#Peter Stone Fic

[altsvu]

long lost

pairing: peter stone x black!fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

summary: peter left you. but when he comes back it’s like he never left, if not better than that.

tw: smut smut smut (p in v sex, oral sex, teasing), fluff, a little angst

a/n: i love me some peter stone 🤭 yet once again this has been sitting in my notes for a long time, since 2020 actually… but we’re not gonna talk abt it. i think of this fic as a twist to the season 20 finale since it’s based on stone leaving. i got a little carried away with this one, i think this is my longest fic yet!

law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

“Peter, why do you have to leave?”

“I just have to. I lost perspective, so I need to move on for a little while.”

“But what do you mean? Peter, you’re not talking to me.”

“I can’t tell you right now. I will tell you, but I can’t now.”

You were going through a lot of different emotions at the same time. Frustration, sadness, anger even. Tears were forming in your eyes, and when the first one rolled down your cheek, it became instant waterworks.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I really am. I will talk to you soon,” Peter said, his eyes getting red and tearing up as well.

Before you could even answer, Peter gave you a quick hug and you watched him walk out the door with his packed duffel bag as if he was in a hurry.

That broke you.

✯✯✯✯

8 months later:

“We should call Liv.” You said.

“She has a thing, told us not to call her unless it’s urgent.” Kat said.

You stared at the text containing the lab results.

“We may have let one of the guilty men get away with a double rape and murder. This is pretty urgent to me.”

“Y/L/N...”

“If she gets upset then she gets upset.” You replied, pulling up Liv’s number and calling it.

“Y/N! What’s going on?” Liv asked.

“Lab results. We need to talk about them. And get new arrest warrants fast.”

“Are they that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll send you the address of where I am right now, you and Kat can meet me.”

“Thanks, Liv.” You said, hanging up.

“Call Carisi?”

You then looked to Kat, gunning the engine. “Yes. We’re going on a little trip.”

When you and Kat got to Liv’s location, you got a call from Melinda. You had asked her a favor that would help with the case.

“Melinda.” You said on the phone. Kat was ahead of you and you heard her greeting Liv. “Oh. Okay, okay... third person?... but they didn’t rape her... so he’s still guilty... okay, okay... thank you Melinda, I owe you.”

You sighed and looked back at the lab results once over then looked up to address Liv and Fin when you saw who was in front of you.

“Peter?” You asked. It had been 8 months since you saw him last. Probably even more than that.

To your knowledge, he left after the case against Rob Miller. You didn’t even want to think about that case the way it had you and the rest of your squad stressed out. You didn’t find out what really happened that made him leave until two months ago from Liv and you were still distraught that he didn’t have the balls to tell you about it.

You took a good look at him. He looked a little different but he was still his beautiful, sexy self and you loved that, despite everything.

“Y/N.” He smiled. He pulled you into his arms for a tight hug. You inhaled the scent of his cologne on his coat. He kissed the top of your head before letting you go. “How are you?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Amazing.” He smiled.

“Hey, I hate to interrupt but what are the results?” Fin asked.

You opened your phone and Peter saw the lock screen of you and him at the annual gala a year and a half ago. He had his arm around you and was kissing you on the forehead. “There’s a third person. Melinda just told me. And we need to get the other man we let go the other day.”

“Good. Kat, where are we with arrest warrants?” Liv asked.

“I’ll call Carisi again.” she said, walking away from the group.

“So, the third guy, do we know who he is?”

“Yes. His only brother.” You replied.

“Carisi’s on board with the arrest warrants.” Kat said.

“And while you’re at it, ask him for the warrant for the brother too. Fin, go with them, they’ll need another person to arrest the men.”

“On it.” Fin said and got up from his seat.

You started towards the door when Peter took your hand.

“Hey. Maybe we can talk over a light meal or a drink later? Here’s my new number.” He whispered, sliding a card in your hand with his other hand.

You looked down at it for a bit, then looked back up at him. All your intimate memories with him started to rush back in and you prayed that you wouldn’t fold for him right on the spot, in front of all these people.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You whispered back. He pulled you in his arms again. "Good luck out there."

"Thank you Peter," you smiled, slightly getting on your tippy-toes and planting a light kiss on his jaw, a place that you loved kissing him on.

✯✯✯✯

You finally got home after a long evening processing the three suspects and taking their statements.

When you took off your jacket, the little card Peter gave you fell out of the pocket. You picked it up and stared at it long and hard. You missed him a lot and it would be nice to catch up with him.

“Hello?”

“Hey Peter, it’s me Y/N.”

“Y/N, oh, it’s so good to see and hear from you. I’m guessing you called to partake in my offer.”

“If it’s not too late?”

“It’s never too late, especially when it’s you.”

“You’re sweet. Today was super stressful, I’m lucky I have tomorrow off. I wouldn’t mind spending my night with you.” You said in a flirty tone. Accidentally.

“That’s great. You can tell me all about your day, you know I would love to hear it all. I’ll pick you up in 30, I figure you just got home?”

“Yes I did, sounds amazing. Thank you for this Peter. I really needed it.”

It was super cold considering that it was only fall, but you still decided to wear one of your more sexier matching bra and panty sets, which you only wore those for special occasions.

This was a special occasion.

You put on a thick ivory colored turtleneck sweater dress, sheer tights and black above the knee boots. To top it off, you put on your oversized trench coat along with your dainty earrings and a black fur hat.

You looked at your makeup in the mirror. You didn’t do anything dramatic, just a simple brown liner/lip gloss combo, and you redid your concealer and mascara. Peter definitely loved that lip combo on you.

You continued applying finishing touches to your look when you heard your doorbell ring. You went to the door to see Peter with a bouquet of roses in his hand and a big smile on his face.

“Hi, thank you.” You smiled, taking the roses from his hand and placing them on your counter, making a mental note to put them in sugar water when you got back.

“Of course,” he said, pulling you into another hug. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just get my coat.”

✯✯✯✯

“Hey, get comfortable. It’s warm in here.” Peter said.

You slipped off your jacket and fur hat, then sat down to slip off your boots.

“Room service should be coming soon, but I have some wine here for us in the meantime.” Peter said, sitting next to you pouring two glasses.

He was wearing the same clothes he was wearing earlier, just without the coat and suit jacket.

“You look beautiful.” He whispered after handing you your glass. “Did I forget to tell you that?”

You pushed some of your curls behind your ear. “You’re so sweet.”

He smiled at you as he was pouring his glass. There was a bit of silence as you two were enjoying the first few sips of wine.

“So, how have things been working out at SVU?”

“Things have been going pretty good. Finally we’re not as short staffed as before.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah very. What about you? What’s been going on in your life?”

“Besides being here with you after six months, nothing much. In all honesty, I’m just glad to back. I went back to Chicago, spent some time by myself, worked in a small law firm for a bit. It was nice, but not all that amazing.”

“Well, I’m glad you were doing good when you were in Chicago.”

“I had to do something, right?” He smiled, laying down on the bed.

You laughed a bit, taking another sip of wine.

“How are you, though?”

You took a few more sips and turned to look in Peter’s eyes.

“I... don’t know.” You whispered. “These past few months were hard for me, but I just pushed my emotions aside. Besides that... I’ve had my good days.”

Peter was silent for a bit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come here.” He whispered, opening his arm out for you. You crawled in his arms.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind. I shouldn’t have left you period. For the first two months I was there, I couldn’t get that memory of you crying out of my head. I couldn’t even bear to call you because of how terrible I made you feel. I couldn’t even tell you what really happened that forced my hand to leave.”

You sighed. “What happened after?”

“I don’t know, after that I honestly thought you hated me and you didn’t want to hear from me. You looked so happy when you were posting on social media and- I don’t know, Y/N, it was hard.”

He told you what happened 8 months ago following the Rob Miller case in full detail, and although you already knew what happened, it felt reassuring hearing it in his words, his point of view.

“I understand. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while.”

He turned and looked at you. “Anything.”

“Despite everything that we’ve been through, our ups and down, just everything... I love you Peter. I still do.”

“I love you too.” He responded. Peter moved closer to you and gave you a kiss on your lips. It enabled you to kiss him back, and give him even more kisses. You and him then rolled around in bed, kissing each other more when one of Peter’s hands went up your dress, touching your bare body.

“You’re wearing one of your special occasion lingerie.”

“I knew you’d figure it out.”

“After months of being intimate with you, I think I’ve figured out your tricks. Like this.”

He pulled down your tights a bit and traced his finger around the rose tattoo that was along your bikini line.

“There’s one more that you don’t know about.” You whispered, pulling off your tights. You then got off the bed and went to the mirror that was in the room.

You slowly removed your dress, revealing your body that Peter longed for. You saw him coming up to you from behind.

“You know how I feel about the lingerie you’re wearing.”

“I know. That’s why I wore it.” You whispered. You felt the outline of his length slightly press against your lower back.

“I’m glad. I think you missed me a lot.” He whispered. He ran his fingers along your back tattoo, the Chinese symbols for pleasure and love. He then kissed it lightly. “Pleasure and love.”

“I got it a month after you left. I guess it was kind of a way for me to relieve some of the pain. It didn’t really work the way I wanted to, as you probably know.”

“Hey,” Peter whispered, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I’m here now, and I don’t ever want to leave you again.”

You twisted around and you kissed him passionately. You turned back to face the mirror.

“And I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Well, while we’re here...” Peter started. You felt his hands move to your bra hooks. “The lingerie is beautiful, but there’s something else I find more beautiful.” He slowly removed the hooks one at a time until they were all off. Going to the straps, he slid them off one by one, giving you chills because of how slow he was doing so.

Your bra was completely off and you let Peter cup one of your breasts in his hand. His free hand slid down to your underwear, massaging your opening.

“You’re already wet for me, huh?” He whispered against your skin. His lips brushed your skin ever so slightly and it gave you chills.

“Mmm, yeah.” You smiled, getting pleasure from Peter’s massages.

You turned around after he pulled his fingers out of you underwear. He kissed you starting from your lips to your waist, pulling down your underwear. He kissed your bikini line, licking the rose tattoo. When he got back up, he had his hands on you bare hips.

“I missed this in Chicago.” He said.

“Well this time’s worth the wait.” You smiled. You took the liberty of helping Peter out of his clothes, then you pushed Peter to the bed and as he moved to the middle of the bed, you got on top of him.

“Please, I want to come inside you.” He pleaded, starting to adjust himself to your opening.

You let him go inside you, and it was the best feeling ever. He had his hands on your butt, squeezing it as you thrusted faster and faster.

“Fuck Peter, I don’t think you understand how much I missed this.” You breathed hard, tossing your head back.

Peter kissed your chest and your boobs, one by one, giving you goosebumps.

“Me too. You’re so beautiful, I could fuck you all night.”

You sat back up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I can make that arrangement.”

“Good.” He whispered. You continued thrusting faster, which made Peter reach his climax much faster. You could see the tears forming in his eyes. “Y/N,” He pleaded as you were thrusting. “Please, let me come inside you. I’m almost there.”

You felt a wave of relief rushing through your body as you and Peter had reached your climaxes.

He pulled out and took a deep breath. He looked at you calming down from your climax. You took his hand and pulled him closer to you.

“How’s that for being in Chicago?”

“Much better than any sex we’ve had since we met.” Peter whispered, slowly pushing his two fingers inside you. Your lips parted and you leaned back as he pushed inside you and teased your pulsing pearl, feeling another rush flow through your body. He watched you and caressed your cheek as moans and whimpers escaped your mouth. He admired every single thing about your body, from you baby soft face, your smile, the legs that he always longed to open after a long Friday after work, and so much more.

He then went to the end of your body and held your legs up. You felt his tongue on your folds licking up all of the juices you produced. His tongue was encircling your clit and you were getting even more aroused.

“Do you want me inside you again?”

You breathed out yes and teased you first before he pushed inside you. He ordered you to look at him, he wanted to watch you fall apart under him. He praised you excessively, telling you that you looked beautiful, that he wanted you all to himself, and even that you were his baby girl and you were doing so good for him. That sent you over the edge.

“Peter…” you moaned. You felt yourself reaching another high under him.

“Are you gonna come all over me? It’s okay.” Peter smiled. “I love it when you do that.”

You smiled back at him and felt the last wave of relief move through your body as your hips rolled.

“Ugh now I feel embarrassed.” You laughed.

“Why? It’s a natural part of arousal.” Peter smiled, pulling out.

“I know, it’s just... I haven’t done it in a while. Not with anyone else, at least.” You admitted, getting up going towards the bathroom.

“Wait.” Peter whispered, going after you.

“Yes, Peter, I have a dildo, okay?” You whispered back. “And no, it’s not the same experience compared to when I’m with you. Even though I think about- you know what, we’re not gonna talk about it anymore.” You walked into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“You thought of me, didn’t you?” Peter asked, coming up behind you.

“Yes.”

Peter’s hands tickled your waist. “You missed me so much, Y/N. It’s okay.”

“Jesus, Peter.” You laughed. “Of course I did. Now let me pee.”

“Okay okay.” He sneaked a kiss on your neck before you slipped out of his arms and went to use the bathroom. He then went to turn on the shower. “You should join me after.” He said to you before hopping in.

When you finished, you slipped in the shower.

“I know the hotel doesn’t have the exquisite shower products that you have back at your place, but a simple rag and bar soap can suffice for now.”

You were standing under the water for a bit, using the soap he gave you. “You remembered.”

“I mean, yeah. Going to your place on a Friday night was my favorite part of the week. And God, that shower.” Peter smiled, cleaning you off first.

“It sounds like you want to recreate that night.” You said, stepping closer to him.

“Maybe I do.” He said, placing the soap and washcloth in the caddy after you finished cleaning him off. “Come here.” he then whispered. You stepped closer to him and he picked you up.

“Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You leaned in to kiss him and it turned into a make-out session. Your legs curled around his body.

“You wanna get outta here?” Peter whispered.

“Mhm.”

“Okay.”

Peter turned off the water and stepped out, draping a towel around both of your bodies. He grabbed two robes and carried you back into the room. You got off of him and dried yourself off.

“Do you wanna wear one of my shirts? Or one of my boxers?

“I’ll wear both.” You said.

After the two of you finished getting dressed, you decided to cuddle with Peter in bed.

“Peter?”

“Hmm?” He asked, running a finger down your arm.

“You never did order room service, did ya?”

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu, @averyhotchner, @ssaic-jareau, @blackbeautifulqueen, @deiondraaa, @wandas-wife

[lulublack90]

Prompt 12 - Gate

@jegulus-microfic July 11, Word count 993

He stared up at the main gate into Hogwarts, seeing it up close for the first time. It was his first Hogsmeade trip as a third year, and he’d decided to walk back to the castle alone. He’d seen the gate as the thestrals pulled the carriages through them, travelling to and from the Hogwarts Express. But he’d never had the time to leisurely admire the ironwork and the stone winged boars that adorned either side. They were some of the ugliest things he’d ever seen, but he could admire the craftsmanship that had gone into carving the stone. 

He found a comfortable place to sit and pulled out a sketchbook to draw them. He didn’t have much in the way of drawing materials. His mother would throw a fit if she found him devoting his time to such frivolous things. So he was stuck with an unlined notebook and a quill that he quickly transfigured back into the muggle pencil he’d snuck out and bought. He’d use them until they were nothing but nubs and sneak out again to get another one. It wasn’t worth buying more than one. If he suddenly had an abundance of quills, someone might end up borrowing one and they’d start asking questions. 

This one was about half used. It would last him until Christmas, he hoped. He put his pencil to paper and began.

He was lost in his work and didn’t hear the approach of a group of students. 

“Hey, Sirius, isn’t that your brother?” Peter called after the bounding boy in front of him. 

“Huh?” Sirius spun around, bringing James Potter with him, who was in a headlock under Sirius’s arm. “Oh, yeah, it is. Oi, Reggie!” He bellowed. Regulus startled and drew a thick pencil line straight through his drawing. He growled at the mess and used his wand to erase the offending line. 

“Go away,” He sneered at his brother as he tried to hide what he was doing, but Sirius was too fast. He snatched the notebook out of Regulus's hands and flipped it open. 

Sirius stared down at the first drawing in the book. It was of the window in the Slytherin Common room when the giant squid had a tentacle creeping across the glass. He flipped through the pages, his brow furrowing more and more. He finally looked up.

“Does Mother know about these?” Regulus thought he heard a touch of concern, but with Sirius, you never knew if it was genuine. 

“No, and nor will she, especially from you,” He snapped, getting into Sirius’s face, and jabbing him with his pencil in the chest. Sirius set his jaw and glared into his brother’s eyes. 

“Wow, these are really good,” Regulus’s head snapped to the person who’d spoken, forgetting all about Sirius. “No, really, they’re beautiful,” James smiled at him, his head at an odd angle as he peered at the upside-down picture in Sirius’s hand. 

“Where do you get the pencils from?” Sirius asked, holding up Regulus’s hand. Regulus snatched it back.

“I sneak out and go to the post office down the road,” Regulus confessed, daring his brother to say anything about it. 

“Wow, Reggie, I’m impressed. How has she not found them yet?” Sirius asked, eyes still on the pencil in Regulus’s hand. 

“I only get one at a time. Now can I have my book back? I want to finish before dinner,” Regulus held out his hand for the notebook. Sirius looked down as though he’d forgotten he still had it. James grabbed it and handed it over. 

“Here,” He said, a big stupid grin on his face. Regulus grimaced. 

“Thanks,” And opened his book back to the page he was working on and continued from where he’d left off. 

“Come on, I’m hungry, let’s go see if we can charm the house elves before dinner,” Remus said quietly, putting an arm around Sirius and leading him away. 

“Remus, I just watched you eat a week’s worth of chocolate. How can you still be hungry?!” Sirius barked out a laugh, but let Remus lead him through the gates and back towards the castle. Peter followed them, chuckling at Remus’s look of shock at Sirius’s statement. 

“They really are beautiful,” James said, leaning over to see the final touches Regulus was adding to the boar’s wings. “Do you really only have one pencil?”

“Yes,” Regulus answered curtly. Why was his brother’s replacement for him still hanging about?

“Alright then, see you around,” James said awkwardly. Regulus nodded at him and he left.

The following morning, an oddly familiar owl landed beside him with a messily wrapped parcel. He took it from the owl, who flew off hooting happily and opened it. Inside was a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. 

He already had a copy, and he hadn’t ordered a new one. He examined it. Something was off. He took his wand out and waved it over the book. The book shuddered and fell open. Inside was a brand-new pencil set. They were all different degrees of hardness. From the thickest dark graphite to the lightest tips that would barely leave a mark. He ran his fingers over them, marvelling at them as they knocked together, making a clicking sound. 

A note was tucked underneath the pencils. He plucked it from the box and read the words written there in a messy, heavy hand. 

‘From your not-so-secret admirer. I hope I’ll get a peek at whatever you create from these. Enjoy, James.’ 

He couldn’t believe that the boy he’d never shown anything but contempt for would send him such a thoughtful gift. But right now he didn’t care. He took out his notebook and started sketching the black lake and mountains surrounding it with his brand-new pencil set. It was already looking better than anything he’d ever drawn before. Maybe he’d send it to Potter as a thank you. Maybe not. He’d decide later.  

[vivitalks]

young and not too wise

relationships: kate bishop & peter parker rating: T total word count: 13.3k important tags: post-hawkeye, post-spider-man: no way home, canon compliant, 3+1 things, angst, humor, hurt/comfort, kate bishop whump, peter parker whump, friendship, identity reveal warnings: dognapping (HE'S FINE), kidnapping, non-consensual drug use (sedation), panic attacks, canon-typical violence & injury summary:

Spider-Man does a double-take. “Kate?” he says, and then, stumblingly, “Uh, Bishop? From, uh, I— I recognize you from the— the…news.” “The news?” Kate’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about?” “Yeah, you’re the new Hawkeye,” Spider-Man says. “Right?” (Or: Three times Kate Bishop met Spider-Man, and the one time she learned his name.)

titular installment in the Kate & Peter New York Shenanigans series!! with a moodboard and everything, wow, production value has really gone up on fanfiction these days

[veyveyx]

MASTER LIST

MCU―

steve rogers―

lovesick, laufey.

second best, laufey.

pretty when you cry, lana del rey.

if only, dove cameron.

bucky barnes―

fluorescent adolescent.

peter parker―

that girl, emei.

PJO―

percy jackson―

summer nights, lilypichu.

dreamy nights, lilypichu.

pom pom, lilypichu.

die for you, joji.

wildflower, billie eilish.

luke castellan―

picture you, chappell roan.

iris, the goo goo dolls.

HP―

harry potter―

space song, beach house.

TOH―

hunter―

make it wit chu, queens of the stone age.

ATLA―

zuko―

[enbysiriusblack]

currently writing prongstail at the beach and i'm sooo tempted to write them snogging only for james to spot a dog and just up and leave peter to go pet it 💀

[cookies-and-mirrors]

Corrupted Jerahmiel Aesthetic for Prisons of Stone and Flesh

[nftdaisy]

no.1

i can live without you now, but i’m not sure if it’s living.

[a-sunset-outside-my-window]

fic rec friday

The Teacher

by SpaceWall on Ao3

Dumbledore hires Remus Lupin as a teaching assistant for Defence Against the Dark Arts. To everyone’s surprise, he isn’t fired, maimed, murdered, or otherwise removed from the job. Severus Snape does not approve of this development.

--

“Here to pick up your friend?” Aberforth demanded, tapping a glass with his wand and setting it sparkling clean.

“Not my friend,” Severus said, just as Lupin said,

“Haven’t got any friends.”

Hm, yes I am currenly back to being obsessed with the 'older' tropes, so get ready for this amazingly written fix-it taking place around philosophers stone.

favourite tropes included are:

fix-it

enemies to friends

Remus is the DADA Professor

exept not really

adults actually being helpfull? (it's more likely than you think)

Sirius gets out of Azkaban

we care about the kids here

they get taken seriously siriusly

as always, leave lots of love and kudos to the author and have an amazing rest of the week <3

[compacflt]

Do you have any opinions on what kind of music mav and ice like? I’m just curious as someone who has motorcycle riding 80s navy dad whose favorite two artists were Madonna and Bruce Springsteen if you think the answer would surprise us? Or if they’d be as predictable as always

Yeah nothing crazy. kinda predictable i guess. classic rock, country rock, classic blues, nostalgic 60s folk, contemporary stuff when it comes on the radio and isn’t unlistenable by their middle-aged-white-man standards.

+ of course ice’s somewhat gay Fleetwood Mac entanglement

[johnnyutah]

i chose waffle house janitor too LMFAO !!!!! HANDSHAKE

it’s what he DESSEEEERRRVVESSSS!!!! i want him to mop up unidentifiable liquids with a completely straight face. and then step out into the back alley with a tray of plates and then throw every single one against the brick wall. and then go back inside and wipe the same spot on the wall for forty five minutes while listening to the same rolling stones song on repeat to block out the waffle house muzak. i genuinely think this would be enrichment for the dude

[altsvu]

mea culpa

pairing: peter stone x fem!detective!reader

wc: 908

cw: mentions of r*pe, angst, fluff

summary: peter stone, your boyfriend, is accused of that four letter word and finds himself in a scary situation. as emotional as it is for you, you and the rest of the squad have to step in to ensure his safety.

a/n: soooo obviously this was inspired by 20x9 - mea culpa… this episode had me gooped and gagged every time i watched it and i had started a fic based on this episode a few years ago when i first watched it, so it’s kinda similar 😭😭😭 can y’all tell i’m obsessed with peter stone???? that’s my man fr. as always enjoy!!

law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

Liv didn’t call you on time.

Peter was in a bar with the husband of the woman who accused him of rape.

With a gun.

Hearing your boyfriend being accused of rape shattered you. Seeing Fin and Liv taking him in was even worse. You wanted to do everything in your power to clear his name all while still doing your job.

While trying to clear his name, that’s when you got the call. At that point the hostage situation had been going on for almost 20 minutes.

“Liv.” You said.

She turned around and pulled you into a hug.

“I should’ve called you earlier. His wife and daughter were here but he hung up the phone on them.”

“It’s okay. I’m here now, maybe I can get through to him.” You said. “Should I call?”

She nodded. “He would feel better if he heard your voice.” Liv handed you the phone after dialing the numbers.

“Please pick up.” You pleaded.

“Stone.” Peter said after a few rings.

“Peter.” You whispered.

“Y/N. I-“

“Who is that?” The other man screamed.

“Peter, tell him who I am.”

“An NYPD detective, and my girlfriend.”

“Hand me the phone.” He demanded. “Hand me the phone!”

You felt yourself shaking.

“You okay?” Rollins whispered.

“Yeah.” You whispered back.

“How do you feel knowing that your boyfriend raped my wife?”

“Sir, I don’t-“

“You know, maybe I should shoot your precious little boyfriend right now.”

“That’s not necessary. Look, if we could just work this out-“

“There’s nothing to work out.” You heard the gun cock. “HE RAPED MY WIFE!”

You felt a few tears forming. “Please, you don’t have to do this.” Your voice cracked.

“Move to where I can see you.”

“Please, don’t make her do this-“

“YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

You turned to look back at Liv, who gave you a small nod.

“Okay. Look sir, I will be approaching the window where you can see me.”

You slowly moved to the window view and saw the man you were talking to on the phone with.

“Your girlfriend is beautiful.” He sneered.

“Sir, please put the gun down. Think about your wife. Your daughter. Your wife called earlier right? She’s still here, your daughter’s still here and do you know why? They love you. Very much. I’m sure they told you that. Right?”

You and the husband locked eyes with each other through the tinted glass. His eyes locked on you while still pointing the gun at Peter. Peter looked at you too through the glass with sorrow and disdain written all over his face.

The husband turned the gun from Peter towards your direction and your eyes widened.

“Sir-“

He tossed the landline on the table and made Peter hang up. The last thing you heard was the clatter of the phone. You slowly lowered the phone from your ear and maintained your eye contact with the husband.

Everything else after this moment happened so quickly, even standing at that window didn’t help. The husband left and cops apprehended him quickly and then Peter came out moments after with the gun in his hand. Liv quickly grabbed it from him.

Peter locked eyes with you and ran towards you. He pulled you into a tight hug. Tears started streaming down your face as he rubbed your back.

“Peter” was all you could stifle out. He planted continuous kisses on your head as he let your tears flow onto his suit. He wiped your tears off as he held you in his arms all while the commotion around the two of you was going on.

As much as you had so much emotion built up inside you, you were still glad the hostage situation ended the way it did.

A few days later, you were sitting at your desk and staring into space. You couldn’t seem to concentrate, the events of a few days ago kept replaying in your head. The fact that Peter could’ve got killed, that you almost got killed was still mind boggling to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You snapped back to reality to realize that Peter was standing in front of you.

“Peter. Hey.”

He pulled up a vacant chair and went to sit next to you, placing a bag in front of you.

“I got your favorite.”

You didn’t respond, instead just curled up in your chair.

“Y/N.” Peter reached his hand out to hold yours. “I know you’re still spooked about the bar situation.”

You nodded your head, tears forming in your eyes.

“Our lives were both in danger. I was so scared and vulnerable that day.”

“I know honey,” He whispered into your ear as he pulled you into a hug. “I know.”

“I’m so glad this is over. I’m so sorry Peter.”

“Why are you sorry? You helped serve justice. If anything I should be the one apologizing. A part of me actually thought I did it, so it being my friend doesn’t make much of a difference. And plus, the accusation probably tainted your view of me.”

You laughed a little. “Deep down a part of me had that what if moment too. But you’re my Peter, so my view of you would never change.”

You were going to plant a kiss on Peter’s cheek when he caught it with his lips instead. Suddenly everything felt like everything was falling back into place again.

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu @averyhotchner @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @deiondraaa @wandas-wife @chaerrymuffin @happyt0exist

[adarafaelbarba]

My ambition wouldn’t allow for compromise

I'm sorry that my first Peter fic is a sad one, especially when the actor who plays him is Rosie's ( @appletreesinwinter ) childhood crush 👀😏🤣 but oh well 🤣

«Meaning?!» 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing from Peter. The absolute nerve with that man.

«I just—there’s so much riding on this—I can’t compromise it—my ambition wouldn’t allow for compromise.»

The urge to slap him was oh so tempting, but you bit back, «Compromise? My entire life has been about compromising for the sake of others—I have ambitions to Peter—!»

He tried to speak up but you tuned him out, tears stinging in your eyes.

«You know what? Just forget about it, forget about me.»

Leaving him there you went home, not allowing yourself to cry until you were finally alone and safe.

~~~

Tagging: @thatesqcrush @storiesofsvu @plaidbooks @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @appletreesinwinter @misscharlielulu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @bisexual-dreamer02 @xoxabs88xox @beatrice-san @meetmeatyourworst @bullet-prooflove

[aslvt4ag]

Title: echoes of the heart

Pairings Peter Parker, Gwen Stacey

Word Count 280 words.

Warning elements of intimacy and may evoke feelings of warmth or affection

Summary Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy share a flirtatious exchange on a rooftop under the moonlit sky. As they playfully banter, their connection deepens, culminating in a tender kiss that ignites sparks of romance between them. Lost in the magic of the moment, they embrace the enchantment of the night, knowing that they have discovered something truly special in each other's arms.

Anso this is a soft one

Chapter 3: Sparks Ignite

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a soft glow over the city as Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy found themselves on another rooftop, the cool breeze whispering secrets in their ears.

Peter couldn't help but steal glances at Gwen as they stood side by side, the moonlight painting her features in an ethereal glow. He felt a flutter in his chest, a familiar warmth spreading through him as he admired her from afar.

Gwen caught Peter's gaze and flashed him a playful smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What are you staring at, Peter? See something you like?"

Peter's cheeks flushed slightly at her teasing tone, but he couldn't resist returning her grin. "Maybe I do," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of flirtation.

Gwen laughed, the sound like music to Peter's ears. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to like what I see too," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Peter took a step closer to her, the distance between them suddenly feeling too vast. "You know, Gwen, there's something about the night that makes everything feel...magical."

Gwen nodded, her gaze softening as she looked up at the starlit sky. "I know what you mean. It's like anything is possible under the cover of darkness."

Peter reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind Gwen's ear. "Including...this," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.

Gwen's breath caught in her throat as Peter's touch sent shivers down her spine. She leaned into his hand, her heart pounding in her chest as she met his gaze with an intensity that stole her breath away.

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the world around them fading into the background as they lost themselves in each other's eyes. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they moved closer, their lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, the rest of the world falling away as they danced in the moonlight. And in that fleeting instant, Peter and Gwen knew that they had found something truly special: a love that was as boundless as the night sky itself.

[di-daynamic]

Title: those who have never sought it Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: None. Warnings: Canon level violence. Trauma. Flashbacks of a sort Prompt: @badthingshappenbingo - Killing in Self-Defense @whumpcember - The End is Nigh and Desperation

Peter had just—

He’d killed. He’d activated the Instant Kill Mode.

He remembered asking Mr. Stark exactly what that setting was supposed to do. He’d been going through Karen’s coding in the lab, adding what Ned and he’d figured out for a sort of explosive GPS. They’d thought it might help with the Queens Arsonist.

Mr. Stark had looked solemn. He’d put away the fabricator to come talk to him. “Kid,” he’d said. “I dragged you to Germany. It was wrong of me, incredibly so, but I did. That was … the big leagues. Your groundwork is important, but things like that – they could get you killed.”

Peter had swallowed. He was hardly unaware of mortality. If burying empty coffins for his parents at age six hadn’t driven that lesson in, holding Ben as he bled out on the asphalt certainly had.

 But Mr. Stark’s heavy tone spoke to horrors even beyond those. It reminded Peter of trying to figure out a way to dig a bullet out of himself one of his first weeks Spider-Manning, of being helpless as the Vulture’s claws choked the breath out of him and his vision blurred, of the sad, grave look on May’s face when she lost someone from FEAST or at the hospital, of the dark circles under Ned’s eyes after Peter woke up post two days in a medically induced coma, of inhaling dirt and sobbing desperately as he tried to hold up the collapsed warehouse.

Mr. Stark had clapped a hand on his shoulder tightly. “Instant Kill’s a last resort. It’s ridiculously dangerous, and Karen’s programmed to reflect that. But I’d rather you have that if there’s even the slightest chance it might help you someday.”

And now it was.

And Peter loathed it.

He didn’t want to kill.

It wasn’t that Peter didn’t respect people who he knew had killed. He knew Mr. Stark had killed many terrorists and aliens and blah blah blah. He was an Avenger, and that wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. He knew Miss Potts had killed Obadiah Stane and The Mandarin. Daredevil didn’t pull his punches with his villains. Deadpool was a straight up mercenary.

But the whole concept behind Spider-Man was that he showed mercy. He’d sworn before Uncle Ben’s grave that he would never walk past a tragedy he could prevent again.

And killing was always a tragedy. What right did Peter, seventeen-year-old high schooler, have to be judge, jury and executioner? The Vulture was a villain, but he was also Liz’s dad. How many others were like that?

Yet Peter stood now, with the world’s most powerful collection of rocks in his hand, swinging desperately and leaving dead bodies in his wake.

They were aliens, but they were sentient beings. Peter’s animal rights sensibilities brain screamed every time he punched one and one of his pincers killed them.

It’s self-defense, he told himself firmly. I have to do it. Just incapacitating them isn’t enough – they’ll just get back up. I don’t know how quick or well aliens get rejuvenated.

And now that he’d killed once – several times, in fact – he knew the option of killing would never leave his brain. Every time this happened, he would hesitate lesser and lesser to kill.

And the line between hero and villain – especially vigilante and villain, according to certain police officers and newspapers – was very thin.

Overwhelmed by his thoughts and the unending stream of hostiles trying to take the gauntlet, he cried out for help. He had about two seconds to fanboy over Captain America being able to wield Mjolnir and having a nickname for him before chaos reigned once more.

Miss Potts saved his life, and a very nice woman on a Pegasus. Peter rolled over, gasping for breath, trying to hide himself from the enemies who wanted the gauntlet.

This is going to end soon, he told himself. From his perspective, he’d fought at Titan with Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange and the Guardians of the Galaxy just to end up on Earth continuing the fight.

 Dr. Strange had said it’d been five years, but that hadn’t really processed until he saw the older, more ragged version of Mr. Stark staring at him like he was a miracle, cradling his face like he was something precious, holding him like he would never let go, showing emotion in a way he would’ve never allowed himself to just a day – five years ago.

It had to end soon.

Dr. Strange had said that there was only once chance out of 14000605 that they won. This had to be it.

Right?

Anxiety roped through his chest, making it hard to breathe. The stones glinted in the dull lighting and off the blood and dirt. Pretty, he thought absently.

The blue one was obviously the Tesseract – the Space Stone, Dr. Strange had called it. Anybody who had the internet would know that one, after the Battle of New York.

The sandy one – the Mind Stone - he was used to seeing on Vision’s face. He wondered how Thanos had gotten it in the end. It hadn’t been in the Gauntlet on Titan.

The orange one sent chills down his body. He hadn’t known what it was prior to being turned into dust, but he certainly did now. He didn’t know how the others had felt it, but he’d felt his body disintegrating, the Soul Stone pulling him into its void.

The screams around him were intense. As discomposed as he was right now, he could hear everything. Mr. Stark’s repulsors – or were they Miss Potts’ or Colonel Rhodes’ or Princess Shuri’s? The whoosh at Ant-Man expanding or shrinking in size. The whirring in the spaceship above them. The flapping of the Pegasus’ wings. Parts of the Compound still collapsing. Someone asking for the Gauntlet.

Peter gave a strangled laugh. This was what was being fought over. The glove in his hand was one of the most - if not the most powerful - weapons in the universe.

Absurdly, he was reminded of playing Passing-the-Parcel in Abe Brown’s birthday party in third grade. He’d prayed not to get out. He supposed the stakes were just a tad higher in this game.

He heard repulsors whir again, and felt his stomach tighten. What would Miss Potts do if Mr Stark died? What would T’Challa do if Shuri died? What would Mr Stark do if Miss Potts or Colonel Rhodes died?

What would he do if Mr Stark died?

This was going to end soon. It had to.

But how was it going to end? What would happen?

What if Thanos showed up right now and snatched the gauntlet from him? What if the Squidward-lookalike turned up again?

The spaceship above them clanked and tumbled. He heard guns and satellites being loaded in there. What were they aiming at? Was he going to be blown up into the bits of dust and dirt he liked to imagine Ben was still watching him from?

He could know, he realized suddenly. He had a foolproof way right in his hands.

He remembered the way Dr. Strange spasmed while invoking the Time Stone, how he’d looked at Mr Stark and said solemnly that it was the only way before dying. He remembered learning about paradoxes and how knowing the future can sometimes be worse than not. He remembered the gauntlet coming into his hands on Titan, victory slipping through his fingers like fine sand. He remembered begging Mr Stark to save him as he fell apart.

He looked back at the Stones. They glowed tantalizingly.

There was a plan, he thought. Something about a van and a time machine. How could he know better than so many experienced heroes?

But then. He remembered reading about Sokovia. He remembered kneeling in front of Ben as he gasped his dying breaths. He remembered sobbing with desperation and cleaning dirt encrusted blood off his arms later.

He remembered the choked cry the first alien he had killed had let out right before they stopped breathing.

Never again.

He dug out the green glowing Time Stone from the gauntlet, thankful for his super strength, and on an afterthought took the red and purple ones too.

He wanted to change reality, after all. And that would take a lot of power.

He wasn’t sure how to use the stones. Dr. Strange was the time keeper and Thanos had just waved his hand around to use them.

He felt the sheer power, the radiation eating away at his body and spirit. His Spider-sense rang like a bell.

Thoughts, memories, emotions swirled around him in a vortex.

I am never walking past another tragedy I can prevent.

I don’t want to ever kill again.

—And another Parker grave added to the set —

May. Ned. Mr Stark. MJ. They have to be okay.

—And Ben was dying again, his blood spilling over his hands and their clothes and the dirt —

What is going to happen?

—And May was saying “It’s just me and you” —

How do we win?

—And Ned and he were high-fiving as they opened their acceptance letters to Midtown —

W H A T D O I H A V E T O D O

— And Mr Stark was scolding him for being reckless while patching him up as he tried to convince him that building a lightsaber would be a great idea —

H  O  W  D  O  I  M  A  K  E  S  U  R  E

—And Ned was screaming in excitement as he swung from the building and saved someone else from the fire —

I   N   E   E   D   T   O   K   N   O   W

—And he was brushing the spider off after the sudden sting, impatient and wanting to re-join the tour group—

D    O    I    N    E    E   D   T    O    C    H    A    N    G    E     A    N    Y    T    H   I    N   G

—And he’d just accidentally broken down a door and was staring at it in bewilderment—

G     O     O     O     D     M     U     S     T     P     R     E     V     A     I     L

—And MJ was smirking at him right after driving Flash away and tossing him a drawing of him ‘in crisis’—

A     H      A      P      P      Y      E      N     D      I     N     G?

He blinked his eyes open.

His eyelids felt unusually heavy.

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” A voice mused, and suddenly Peter knew who he was and what he was doing there.

“Son of Mary and Richard,” Another voice joined.

“Beloved of Maybelle and Benjamin and Anthony and Edward and Michelle and Morgan,” A third added.

“We hear your request,” All three chorused.

Peter stumbled to his feet, wrung out. He wasn’t sure where the hell he was. He wasn’t sure of anything – least of all how he felt after that rollercoaster of memories and sensations.

“So, you’re going to grant it--?” He asked awkwardly.

The view shook like it was an optical illusion. The part that didn’t was the cemetery – where his parents and Ben were laid to rest. One moment the three were humanoid figures. The next they were large rocks. They glowed the colour of the Infinty Stones.

Peter couldn’t feel his body or his Spidey Sense, but he could somehow tell the one which was speaking was faintly amused. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“It’s opposing the previous thing you did,” he pointed out. “Or – well, I don’t know if it counts because you’re from the past—”

“We are infinity, child,” one said indifferently. “What would that matter?”

“We merely perform the functions for which we were created,” the third said. “Which includes following the orders of the worthy. The Timekeeper – Stephen Strange – proved himself by showing perseverance, accepting the death of his mentor, and mastering the Mystic Arts. Thanos did by being powerful, determined and a leader enough to collect all of us despite the sacrifices and struggles he had to go through. Anthony Stark would have proven himself by being willing to give up everything, through his sheer will and love.”

Mr Stark would have what--?

“What would the nature of the command do to us?” The first one said idly, still sounding amused. “Whatever happens, whatever goes on in the universes – Time, Space, Mind, Power, Soul and Reality remain constant.”

“Though not so much in this case,” The third continued, “You do wish to mold reality, child?”

Peter felt his ghosts pressing into him. It was his mom and dad, teaching him to become who he was, Uncle Ben who handed over the most important lesson of his life, Aunt May who endured and loved, Ned who was steadfast, Mr Stark who understood and equipped. “Whatever it takes.”

They considered him. “So young,” they hissed as one. ��To be carrying the burdens of so many.”

And then suddenly Peter wasn’t in that limbo – he was Carol Danvers who felt a smug sense of satisfaction at blowing up the ship and empathy for teenage superhero Peter Parker; he was Steve Rogers who became worthy of Mjolnir and fought to the bitter end and his happy ending; he was Tony Stark who looked over the compound and thought of his family and decided it was worth it; he was May Parker looming helplessly over her nephew as he grieved at the funeral of someone else he loved; he was Morgan Stark as she stared at the stars and grew up; he was Sam Wilson being handed a legacy; he was T’Challa learning to rule a kingdom he’d been absent from five years; he was Yelena Belova and screaming and raging at the unfairness of the world; he was America Chavez traversing one universe after another in search of something she couldn’t name; he was Ned Leeds discovering magic; he was May Parker reinforcing her husband’s lesson; he was Michelle Jones watching helplessly as the boy she loved disappeared from the world and her mind; he was Peter Parker deciding not to involve the people he loved in his mess; he was Johnny Storm agreeing lazily to a trip in space; he was Queen Shuri screaming her grief into the world and meeting T’Challa the second; he was Jane Foster hoping for a cancer treatment; he was Thor looking for life’s meaning again; he was Shang-Chi being sent on the mission that would change life forever; he was Captain Monica Rambeau getting sucked into the Scarlet Witch’s world; he was Jennifer Walters getting powers; he was Wanda Maximoff destroying Mount Wundagore  – he was so many and no one at all at once.

He was Peter Parker crouched in the ditch in the battlefield in the Battle of Earth, Peter Parker at Tony Stark’s funeral, Peter Parker stumbling over his words to confess his feelings to MJ before she pointed out the drone, Peter Parker holding his aunt’s body begging her to wake up, Peter Parker meeting his dimensional counterparts and thinking family, Peter Parker at the Statue of Liberty, Peter Parker kissing Johnny Storm as the world ended, Peter Parker going out in a burst of explosions and glory against Kang. He was all of them and yet someone new.

Peter blinked. His eyelids were surprisingly heavy. His brain tried to reorganize itself from the scrambled mess it had become, hurriedly trying to incorporate the injected memories.

He’d asked what would happen.

He supposed he’d gotten his answer.

“I think you broke the boy,” The perpetually amused one said interestedly.

“I’m fine,” Peter said. He thought his throat would be dry if he could actually feel it. “I. . .”

In the end, it wasn’t all bad. Thanos would die. Kingpin would be defeated as the Vulture was. The Incursion would be prevented. Beyonder, Titania and the others of the alliance would fall. Kang’s reign would be ended. Humanity would push on as it always did, cockroaches in the fabric of reality.

But in the meantime. . . So much suffering. So much pain. So much tragedy that could be prevented.

But what could he do? He was just one person. Sure, he’d been and would be important in fights and confrontations that changed the world, but he couldn’t singlehandedly overturn every single disaster, much less ones of as epic proportions as Thanos and the Alliance and Infinity Ultron and Kang.

“A happy ending,” The apathetic one mulled over the words. “That was your wish. How would you propose that happen?”

“I guess I’ll go back and try to prevent some of the worse things from happening. . .?” Peter volunteered, entirely unenthused about the prospect. How was he supposed to stop Mr Stark from snapping? Or Wanda from going crazy with grief? Or Wilson Fisk from running the mafia?

What even qualified as bad things? Johnny getting his powers had been traumatic, but he’d later helped save the world multiple times and – Peter would’ve blushed if he could’ve. He thought the Human Torch had been happy by the end.  

Peter suddenly felt sick and wished fervently he hadn’t done this. He had no idea what to do or how to resolve any of the numerous moral quandaries he needed to in order to progress. He'd killed. He'd taken life. Surely that should have gotten rid of some of his ethics? 

“Would that give you your happy ending?” The third – the humane - one inquired. “Everyone you care for alive? The world saved?”

Peter was motionless and he felt his Spidey Sense give a long warble before curling down to settle. 

If you expect disappointment, then you can never really get disappointed.

Everyone wants a happy ending, right?

Everything Spider-Man touches comes to ruin.

Okay, so let ‘em do their thing. You can go work on a fallback plan.

Strong enough to have it all, too weak to take it.

If you’re nothing without the suit, you shouldn’t have it.

You have a gift. You have power. And with great power, there must also come great responsibility.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, resigned.

“’Want me to do’,” The amused one said, savouring each word. “Nothing, boy. But it was your wish to have your happy ending.”

“And that isn’t possible in this timeline,” the humane one continued.

Peter had to agree. He hated it, but he agreed. Even if he snapped right now instead of Mr Stark, EDITH existed and Quentin Beck would want it, the Multiverse would still break but instead of him some poor sorcerer apprentice would be caught up in it, without him around Fisk would be a lot more open with his general shadiness, Shuri would still lose everything, MJ and Ned would still get caught up in some nonsense because they were people with large hearts and a deep intelligence and he wouldn’t be there to save them, and without his sacrifice Kang might be able to get the edge on them.

Peter was one insignificant soul – but in the grand scale of things he did matter.

“So what do I do?”

“You picked up Time, Power and me,” The indifferent one – Reality, apparently – said. “What was your intention there?”

“Um,” Peter said dumbly. “Dr. Strange used the – Time to see the future, which is what I wanted to do. And I wanted to change it if I needed to so Reality – you.”

“And you thought I would be necessary to do that,” The amused one, Power, said.

“Which is fair enough,” Time, the humane one, said. “Since that is what allows us to do this.”

“Do what?” Peter asked, alarm stirring. His Sense gave a light buzz but didn’t tingle, which probably meant this wasn’t going to harm him.

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” Power thundered.

“Bearer of the gauntlet,” Time said.

“Holder of Infinity,” Reality announced.

“You will be sent back to your body on the date of May 23rd 2016,” Time glowed oddly at the words.

Peter was still stuck on the point. “Wait – time travel? Like Back to the Future? Or Peggy Sue got married?”

“You did agree that The Battle of the Earth is a point of no return for your happy ending,” Reality pointed out boredly. “The only logical conclusion is to therefore send you to sometime where you can work towards it.”

“Foster better relationships with the other Avengers and diplomacy with alien planets,” Power said, like he – she – they – it? Was ticking items off a list. “Take down Kingpin and Vulture sooner. Stabilize the multiverse.”

“You say that like it’s simple,” Peter said vaguely – but his mind was whirring.

There were so many things he could do better. So much he could make easier for Ned and Mr Stark and Dr. Strange and the Avengers.

The chance to have a do-over was something people would give anything for. Excitement and panic began to build up. Something occurred to him. “Why May 2016? Why – why not before?”

Ben, he thought longingly. Ben had died in January. He could go back. He could - he could save him, apologize to him, see him again—

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Time said gently. “The day you met Anthony Stark is the day you were set on this path. Your being bitten by the spider and Benjamin Parker’s death are universal constants. Them being changed would be too much too quick.”

Peter swallowed his bitterness and the stinging in his eyes. He supposed his parents’ and Ben’s survival would be too much to ask.

The world is unfair, he thought, remembering MJ telling him she loved him on Liberty Island, the blood and dirt and the light fading from the eyes of Ben and Mr Stark and May, Ned’s desolate eyes when he’d learned his dad’s fate, the way Shuri screamed when her mother died, Johnny’s final supernova, dying in pain and alone without knowing Kang had been defeated, but it’s ours. I have power. Power to change everything, to give us a happier ending. The end is close, but so is a new beginning. I have a responsibility to everyone who doesn’t have that power.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. “I’m doing this.”

“Excellent,” Reality said briskly. “Now—”

“You must choose your companions,” Power said, voice light. “Whom will you choose?”

“W-What do you mean?” Peter asked, thrown off.

“You may choose five companions,” Reality said.

“One for each of us,” Power said.

“I can choose?” he asked, bewildered.

“Your happy ending,” Reality reminded him brightly. “Your choice.”

His happy ending. That had been his final, most fervent wish when handling the Stones. No wonder they were harping on that so much.

Peter wished he could feel his corporeal body, because he really wanted to pinch himself. Aliens, space, Infinity Stones. . . It was hard to believe only a day ago to him he’d been on a field trip to MoMA listening to Flash moan about the horrid bus conditions.

But how the hell could he choose?

He needed people whom he trusted, but who would also be ready to give everything up to save the world.

Peter wasn’t unaware of what he was doing. He may be dazed, but he was a smart kid, as Mr Stark often told him. He was giving up his May, his Ned, his MJ, his Johnny, his Shuri, his Matt, his Wade, the life that would have been his – tragic, sure, but also filled with love and laughter and heroism.

He needed to find people who would have been worse off if this timeline continued.

One choice was instant. He ticked all the boxes, and he was one of the people Peter loved and trusted most in the world. “Mr Stark.”

The Stones gave no sign as to what their opinion of his choice was.

Mr Stark covered the Avengers, and earthly heroes. If he needed to build bridges with aliens and maintain the multiverse, he needed people experienced in that – “Dr. Strange.” He remembered the future he saw for Dr. Strange. He liked America Chavez, from what he’d seen of her, and hoped the doctor would be able to find her sooner.

Two safe ones. Now to shake the boat a bit.

Aliens were harder. He supposed one of the Guardians of the Galaxy would do, but he couldn’t think of how they might have any power over the entirety of space. He considered Thor – Thor, the strongest, the god of thunder, Peter’s bi reveal – but what he needed was someone subtler. Someone sneakier. Someone who practiced magic.

Controversial, but he’d died. Peter thought he could cut him some slack. “Loki.”

Avengers. Aliens. Multiverse. For the street level, though. . . . He needed someone with power on the business side of things. Someone who was strong, who had managed Stark Industries and its trade and resources with other planets and countries for years after becoming a widow. Someone without whom Morgan – Morgan, his beloved little sister – couldn’t exist. “Mrs. Potts.”

Peter suddenly realized he’d already filled four spots. He only had one left. He longed to say May or Ned. May and Ned, who had been there with him since his parents had died nearly a decade ago. May and Ned, the two people whom he loved most in the world. May and Ned, who were invaluable to him, but held no significant power when it came to changing the world.

Peter closed his eyes to prevent the rush of tears. It seemed his physicality could change when he felt devastation. With these words, he was losing his emotional support as he knew them. May would go back to being the fun aunt who had no idea he was Spider-Man. Ned would be the happy-go-lucky best friend, not the traumatized sorcerer and programmer who’d grown with him and faced multiversal dangers.

This is my power. This is my responsibility. The Green Goblin was wrong. I am Spider-Man.

“Shuri.” Shuri, his friend, who had lost everything the way Peter had. She deserved a chance for a do-over too. And she could help advance technology to the level it was in space, and help T’Challa and Mr Stark and Mrs Potts influence the UN and the wider world.

“Wise choices,” Reality said, for once sounding solemn.

“And you did not choose selfishly,” Power observed. “Very well, Peter Parker. The best of luck on your mission. We have fulfilled your desire to the best of our abilities.”

“Your happy ending, your future is now up to you,” Reality said, once more sounding entertained.

 “Selflessness must be rewarded.” Time said. “And so as a final gift: knowledge of the Time Variance Authority. And Edward Leeds.”

Peter’s blood rushed through his head as more knowledge filled it, and simultaneously joy and relief sprung through him. Ned.

The world filled with the colours of infinity.

It looked like the Soul Stone’s realm.

The six people he’d chosen stood in front of him.

“Pete?” Mr Stark asked, sounding confused. “What’s going on?”

Peter straightened with glorious purpose.

My power. My responsibility.

My happy ending.

“We have a mission,” he began.

[smolsaltypan]

I almost never see it in fics but the idea of the power stone choosing Peter as its guardian solely for the "with great power comes great responsibility" line greatly amuses me. In the mcu Peter bumbles and fumbles with his powers quite a lot but most other variations I've seen largely show they're successful in taking their self appointed responsibilities seriously, tragedies aside. Seeing as power choosing Peter would already be an au, I think it stands to reason Peter could grow into it yknow? Instead of constantly being an idiot (as he should tbh he's a teenage boy with superpowers, he's gonna be stupid)

[plaidbooks]

5 sentences or more Peter Stone

I wish things were different

"Do you, darling? Because it seems like you've moved on well enough," Peter said, gesturing to your fancy dress with his beer.

You sighed, trying not to let his words nettle you. "Of course, I do. I loved you, Peter...still do."

His eyes widened slightly - the only sign of your words affecting him, before that cool mask was back on his face. "Well, it's a little late for that, isn't it?"