#and ned is the kind of asshole that gets multiple of what he's eating and pretends to be full

[erinwantstowrite]

i love peter but he is the kind of asshole to eat a bite of ur food when you aren't looking

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {1}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, sex, language, eating disorders. 

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Yay to new, angsty fanfics full of hot mess scenarios, sexy men, and foul language. 

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that's really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.” ― Ned Vizzini, It's Kind of a Funny Story

It had been two weeks of Feyre living with Rhysand, and although he had been her best friend since high school, she learned more about him than she had ever cared to know since she moved in. 

For one, the man was a complete mess. She blessed every woman that had ever had to step foot into a man’s bathroom, starting from the first night she walked in there to pee. After taking one look at the toilet seat up, the toothpaste all over the sink, the trash can full of Mother knew what,  and the shower curtain hanging halfway off the hooks, Feyre felt the need to put on a hazmat suit and go buy five bottles of bleach.

Secondly, he didn’t have enough food to make a complete meal. Not even close. She knew he wasn’t a fan of cooking, but they couldn’t live off of ten boxes of cereal and half a gallon of milk. 

And, lastly, he snored. Loudly. So loudly that, on multiple occasions, she was hurrying across the hall in the middle of the night and throwing him onto the floor with a string of curses. 

It was early on a Saturday morning when he awoke and rounded the corner to find her standing over the stove top, scrambling eggs.

He smiled, brightly, his hair a mess. “Good morning, Feyre, darling.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “It would be if I got enough sleep last night. An obnoxious caveman inhabits the room across from mine.”

Rhysand’s smile widened. “Sounds like an asshole. You should get rid of him.”

Feyre laughed, taking a package of bacon out of the fridge. “Yes, but then I’d be lonely.”

Rhysand shook his head as he hopped onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Can’t have that.”

With a murmur of agreement, Feyre dropped slices of bacon onto the burning skillet. She always loved the sizzle food made when it hit a hot pan. It always reminded her of the little, family owned diner her mom used to take her and her sisters to when they were little, every Saturday morning. 

“Good thing you moved in,” Rhysand went on, opening a carton of orange juice and putting it to his lips. “I don’t know how I didn’t starve before.” 

Feyre turned to face him, scowling as she caught him drinking from the carton. “It’s scrambled eggs and bacon, Rhys, not a gourmet meal. You could easily-”

“No!”

“- cook them yourself!” Feyre finished with a laugh. “Lazy ass.” 

“I am not lazy,” he said, hopping off the counter and flicking her nose. “I worked fifty hours this week at a restaurant. The last thing I want to do is go home and cook for myself. I prefer endless take out and best friends that do it for me.”

It was true. Rhysand worked at a popular local bar, one that had to fire two employees the week before for getting high in the kitchen. Until they found someone else, Rhysand was taking up extra shifts. 

When Feyre didn’t say anything more, Rhysand stopped what he was doing and asked, with a quiet voice, “Bad morning?”

Feyre’s head swung his direction. “What? No. Well...I don’t know. Yet.”

He raised his brows.

“Tamlin texted me, wanted me to come get some stuff I left behind,” she mumbled.

Rhysand’s lips tightened. “I’ll come with you, then.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“No, I should come with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Feyre snapped. “I dealt with him for years, I think I can go pick up some shit.”

Rhysand’s shoulders tensed, and Feyre instantly felt guilty.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, turning off the stove top burners. “I’m obviously not looking forward to it, but really, I’ll be fine. And if he sees that you’re with me, he’ll start a fight, and I really just want to go get my stuff and get it done with.” 

Rhysand nodded, although it was obvious by the way his eyes darkened that he didn’t like the idea, at all. “Just...call me if you need me.”

Feyre promised she would as he picked up a slice of bacon out of the skillet and took a massive bite.

Her eyebrows rose. “Is that not hot?”

“Fucking burning,” he mumbled, chewing. “I can’t feel my tongue.”

Feyre laughed, shaking her head. “Dumbass.”

He flicked her nose again, and she punched him in the arm. 

They ate together at the little, rickety table, just as the front door opened and Azriel appeared. He was wearing black sweatpants and a t-shirt that said Velaris High Basketball on it. Given that it was nearly ten years old, Feyre was impressed it was still keeping itself together. The tattoos on his arms stood out, especially the new one on his left forearm, still ringed in red and covered in ointment. 

“Good morning,” he mumbled.

Rhysand lifted an eyebrow as he chuckled, and Feyre was certain they were sharing the same thought.

“You look like shit,” Rhysand observed, as Azriel pulled a chair up to the table and laid his head against the tabletop. “Too much to drink last night?”

Azriel mumbled something unintelligible. 

“There was a girl, wasn’t there,” Feyre crooned. 

“Let’s just say that it took me a few minutes to remember her name when I woke up next to her this morning,” Azriel muttered.

Feyre gasped as Rhysand howled. “You’re better than that, Az. I am so, so disappointed.”

He looked up, glaring at his old friend. “Don’t worry, I feel shitty enough without punishment from you.”

Feyre stood, chuckling as she ruffled Azriel’s hair, and took her plate to the sink. “Good.”

“Ready for a run, then?” Rhysand asked, cheerily.

Azriel cursed before pushing himself up from the table. “Yeah. May as well. I have to get my shit together before one. I’m supposed to go into town for a job.”

“Ah, and what will you be building this time?” Feyre asked, intrigued, as she loaded their dishes into the dishwasher. 

“Turning a garage into a bonus room,” he said. “So, I’ll be there a few weeks, it seems. But, the garage is small so….”

He let his words trail off and Feyre nodded, impressed. “Well, aren’t you handy.”

Azriel snorted. “It pays the bills.”

He was being modest, as he always was. Azriel was a brilliant craftsman and made the most beautiful, wooden furniture. However, he couldn’t seem to make a living that way, so he did small renovations and handyman work when he could get it. 

Rhysand had finished tugging on his shoes just as Azriel took the Advil and Gatorade Feyre had handed him. 

“I’ll see you this afternoon, then? After I get back from helping Cassian?” Rhysand asked, eyeing Feyre. “And you’ll call me if you need me?”

Feyre nodded.

“Alright,” he said, hesitantly, before following Azriel out the door.

Once she was alone, Feyre let out a long, deep breath. She should go now, get it over with. The thought had her hands shaking as she reached to turn off the kitchen sink.

~~~~~

“She didn’t want you going with?” Azriel asked, as they slowed to a jog along the Sidra.

Rhysand shook his head. “Thinks he’ll start a fight.”

It was common knowledge - Rhysand and Tamlin did not get along. They never had, even in high school. He also knew that Tamlin thought Rhysand was the reason Feyre left him, which was complete bullshit. She left him because he was a controlling, manipulative dick.

“She’ll be alright,” Azriel said.

Rhysand didn’t reply. He knew she could stand up for herself, but he saw way too much in the years that Feyre was with Tamlin. He knew the things Tamlin used to say to her, knew the things he used to threaten her with. 

“It seems to be going good,” Azriel continued, after catching the gleam in Rhysand’s eyes. “Roommates.”

“Yeah,” Rhysand agreed, as they stopped to stretch. “It is.”

Azriel was watching him in the quiet, articulate way he typically watched people when he was thinking something he didn’t want to say out loud. 

Rhysand looked up at the early morning sky. “Yes?”

“Nothing,” Azriel mumbled, but when Rhysand looked back down, he was smiling. 

“Fuck off,” Rhysand muttered, lying back against the grass. “I wouldn’t try anything.”

“Not yet,” Azriel added, jumping to his feet, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt. “Don’t say never.”

Rhysand didn’t comment. Yes, he loved her, but he would be an asshole to try anything. She just got out of a long, shitty relationship. Besides, she was his best friend, and trying anything more would be a betrayal of her trust. 

“Alright, get up,” Azriel grumbled. “If I beat you back to your apartment, drinks are on you tonight.” 

Rhysand looked up at Azriel from where he was in the grass. Azriel stared back. Before Rhysand jumped up, he kicked Azriel in the back of the knee, causing him to go down as Rhysand took off. 

~~~~~

Elain looked in the mirror.

The dark circles beneath her eyes grew heavier, she would definitely need to layer her concealer. She had pulled on a pair of jeans she had bought the month before, but they had grown baggy, so she settled on leggings and a tank top. 

Since she had to move back in with her father, after her breakup with Graysen, things were...interesting. Neither she nor her sisters had spoken too much to their dad in recent years, so having to call Isaac and ask if she could occupy her childhood bedroom was uncomfortable, to say the least. Asking him to take her to her appointments had been even stranger, but they say that she cannot take herself, in case she had a meltdown when she was there, she would always need a ride home.

However, she felt better the past few days than she had in some time. She thought it may have been the new medication Dr.Jones put her on, or the fact that spring had turned into summer. Everything was better in the summer, right?

Isaac was gone that morning, but Elain had to stay put. A contractor was coming, apparently, to give a quote on transforming their garage, which Isaac had been talking about doing for years but never went through with it.

Elain wondered why he had chosen now, perhaps as a way to bring a little change into Elain’s life. Either way, Elain was stuck until the contractor arrived, not that she had much else to do.

It was just after one when the doorbell rang, and Elain hurried from her spot on the couch, where she had been watching a ridiculous reality love competition, to the front door.

She opened it, and blinked. “Hello. Can I help you?”

He was tall, his lashes long and dark over his hazel eyes. He wore a hat, backwards, over his black hair. Elain could see the tattoos peeking out above the neckline of his t-shirt, as well as those that covered his arms.

“Is Isaac home?” he asked, voice low. “He called about your garage?”

“Ah, yeah,” Elain said, stepping aside, unable to break her eyes from his. She knew him from somewhere, although she couldn’t quite place it. “Come in, please.”

He nodded his thanks and entered.

They stood in the doorway, an awkward silence growing overwhelming. 

Elain, at last, cleared her throat. “Um, my dad’s not here, but, I’ll pass along the message.” She turned on her heels and, a second later, his heavy footsteps trailed after her. They went through the kitchen and out the door, down into the garage. 

It was a small garage, but an absolute mess. When Isaac had lived alone, this is where he seemed to have stored anything and everything. 

Elain couldn’t tell what the man was thinking as he looked around. She knew her father had talked to him on the phone about what he wanted done, so she didn’t bother with providing the contractor with any details. 

“I know you from somewhere,” Elain said, quietly, as he walked through the garage, avoiding the clutter. 

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing her way, shortly. “From where?”

Elain bit her bottom lip. “Where did you go to high school?”

“Here,” he said, walking back to the bottom of the stairs and looking up at her. “Velaris, in the city.”

His brows suddenly shot up and Elain suddenly realized she was alone with a man twice her size. “You’re an Archeron. Feyre’s sister, yeah?”

Elain froze. “Yes.”

He nodded, jaw clenched. “I’m friends with your sister, saw her just this morning actually. We graduated the same year, you and I. Elain, right?”

Elain nodded, slowly. His name was on the tip of her tongue, but she could not remember it for the life of her.

“Azriel,” he said, looking away, and Elain blushed, feeling guilty. “You were valedictorian, if I remember correctly. Cheerleader.”

Elain suddenly remembered. “Oh, you played basketball.”

Azriel nodded. “I did, yeah.”

And you smoked a lot of stuff and drank under the bleachers, Elain thought, but figured it best to keep that to herself. 

“Well, I suppose I’ll give you the estimate to give to your dad,” he said, scribbling a few things down on the notepad in his hand. “When he gets home, have him call me. I can come in Monday.”

Elain nodded, taking the sheet of paper from his hand before leading him back through the house. He didn’t say goodbye before he left. Elain watched him drive away.

She had to admit that he had aged nicely in the last decade.

The dark, dangerous boy that had a hazardous reputation at Velaris High.

Elain resumed her position on the couch, playing the next episode of her stupidly entertaining television show.

She pulled out her phone and opened instagram. The first image that popped up had her gasping for air.

Graysen was smiling, his arms around her. 

She didn’t read the caption. She couldn’t. Before she could go any further, Elain dropped her phone, covered herself with a blanket, and laid on the couch.

The show faded into background noise as Elain stared at the coffee table. 

~~~~~

Nesta was trying to sleep, but the noise going on outside of her apartment was unbearable. 

With a miserable groan, Nesta rose from her bed and stomped through the halls before reaching the front door and throwing it open. 

Two men stood there, carrying a kitchen table, one of whom Nesta recognized all too well.

She leaned against her door frame. “Rhysand, didn’t expect to see you standing out here...or, be anywhere on this side of town. How’s my sister?”

Rhysand, and his companion, set the table down on the concrete. “Nesta...Is this your apartment or the guy’s you fucked last night?”

“I’m assuming you two know each other,” Rhysand’s companion muttered.

Nesta shot him a glare. His dark, brown hair hung around his shoulders, tangled and a mess. He wore torn jeans, laced up leather boots with the laces undone, and a black t-shirt. His hazel eyes were taking Nesta in, from the top of her bedhead to her bare legs, hanging out beneath Tomas’ old, white t-shirt. 

“Feyre’s sister,” Rhysand said, eyes still on Nesta.

His friend lifted an eyebrow. “No shit? The oldest, I assume.”

Nesta tensed, wondering what all her youngest sister said about her to her friends, then deciding she did not care.

“This is Cassian,” Rhysand went on, gripping his side of the table, once more. “Your new neighbor, it seems.”

“I would say it’s a pleasure, but you kinda look like you want to shove a knife into my chest, so,” Cassian began, then trailed off.

They lifted the table once more, bringing it inside the apartment. Nesta hadn’t even turned around before they came back out to grab something else.

“Well, keep it down,” Nesta snapped. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Rhysand ignored her, but Cassian seemed to not catch the hint. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Yes, and I was up until five this morning,” she scowled.

She heard the bedroom door open up behind her and looked over her shoulder, to find a disheveled Tomas walking toward her, cigarette between his lips. 

“There a problem?” he asked, coming up behind her.

“Just meeting my new neighbor,” Nesta said. “I was just coming back inside.”

“Hmm,” he mumbled, then went back to the kitchen and out the sliding door to the balcony. 

Cassian didn’t take his eyes from hers as she took a few steps back and slammed her door.

They didn’t bother to keep it down, at all. 

~~~~~

Feyre was sitting on the couch, in silence, when Rhysand got home.

Careful not to startle her, he shut the door quietly behind him. 

She looked over her shoulder, tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

She had been crying.

Rhysand didn’t say anything until he was sitting beside her, his feet kicked up. “You didn’t call me. I assume it went well?”

Her lip quivered, and his arm went around her shoulder as her face fell into his chest. “I hate him. I hate him, Rhys.”

“I know,” he whispered. He hated Tamlin, too. Hated the years he stole from her, hated the lies he fed her. “I know.”

She wiped her eyes across his shirt. “I’m making you wet.”

Rhysand opened his mouth, then it snapped shut, before laughter sputtered out of his mouth. 

Feyre couldn’t help but laugh herself as she hit him in the chest, not moving from her position. 

Rhysand’s arm tightened around her as she said, “Take your dirty mind somewhere else, I’m upset.”

“You’re right,” he said, smile fading. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

She shook her head.

She didn’t want to talk about it, not yet.

“Well, we all have the night off, so we’re going out,” he said, lifting her chin by his fingers to meet his eyes. “Come with.”

It was moments like this that made Rhysand have to focus on his breathing. In and out, don’t overthink, don’t think about how her face is only inches from yours, don’t think about how easy it would be to close the space, don’t think about the feeling of her lips on yours.

“Okay,” Feyre whispered.

Rhysand nodded, quietly clearing his throat. “Well, we should get ready, then.”

Feyre chuckled. “You may want to take a shower if you plan on impressing anyone tonight.”

Rhysand knew he wouldn’t be bringing anyone home, the only one he wanted to bring home was coming home with him, anyway.

But he nodded. He didn’t smell great. It was true. “Probably should.”

With a smile, Feyre pushed off his chest and started down the hall. She shut herself inside of her bedroom as Rhysand looked down, at the betrayal going on beneath his sweatpants.

He had to take a shower.

And it would be a cold one.

~~~~~

Nesta’s phone vibrated in her back pocket as she lit her cigarette. 

She fished it out to find Elain’s name, and once she opened it, she read, Meet for lunch tomorrow?

Elain had a lot of time on her hands since she broke up with Graysen, and Nesta was trying her best to meet her from time to time and help her pass the time, but it was difficult. Then again, she should be spending time with at least one of her sisters.

Sure, tell me when and where, I’ll be there, Nesta replied, taking a long drag.

She was waiting for Tomas outside, waiting to go out on a Saturday night, but he was taking forever. She hated waiting. She hated waiting for Tomas, in particular. She swore he made her wait just because he could, just because he knew that it bothered her. 

The door across from hers opened and Cassian stepped out.

He looked as if he’d just gotten out of the shower. His long hair was still wet, but tied at the back of his head. He still wore his boots, but his jeans were cleaner than the torn ones he had been wearing earlier, and his button down shirt was rolled up to his elbows, showing off the ink that decorated his tanned skin. He locked his front door behind him as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and noticed Nesta leaning up against the wall. 

He didn’t have a chance to say a word before her own door opened and Tomas stepped out.

He saw Cassian looking at his girl, his eyes turning feral. Tomas met Cassian in height, but it was clear that Cassian was much broader, much stronger. 

“Ready, Nesta?” Tomas asked, eyes still on Cassian.

Nesta didn’t answer. She took her cigarette between her lips as she watched Cassian’s gaze sweep over her, just as he had done earlier that afternoon. He did it slowly, no doubt to piss off Tomas more. 

“May I help you?” Nesta asked, voice low. 

Cassian chuckled, lips parted. The gesture defined his jawline, defined his cheekbones, and Nesta couldn’t help but notice. He had a handsome face, sculpted from stone. It was difficult not to imagine the body that lied beneath his clothes. 

“Have a good night,” he said, at last, and shoved his hands into his pockets before walking away.

It took everything inside of Nesta not to watch him go.

“I don't like that guy,” Tomas muttered, closing the apartment door and resting his hand along Nesta’s lower back. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Cut the alpha male bullshit. I can take care of myself.”

With that, she walked away, Tomas close on her heels.

She needed to start drinking immediately if she was going to make it through another night, another morning, with him.

~~~~~

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 Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous 

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

[raviposting]

All right after like 2 freaking years and like 5 unanswered headcanon requests in my inbox I’m going right ahead and giving you what literally no one asked for: shitposts of The Afterlife Squad(TM): 

Robert, Ned, and Rhaegar are like, almost always together. Or, more like, Robert and Rhaegar are constantly arguing and following Ned around asking him what he thinks. 

Rhaegar suddenly looooooves Ned because he knows Ned kept Jon safe and Ned is just like *side eyes* “I didn’t do it for you you dildo” but he also can’t say anything so whenever Robert asks why Rhaegar cares about Ned’s opinion Ned just kind of sighs and shrugs and says maybe it’s his punishment and Rhaegar gets this evil grin on his face and goes “You’ll see”. 

This inevitably gets Robert pissed. “See what, you asshole?” and out breaks a new bit of arguing. Ned is tired(TM) and no one else in the afterlife will talk to them. 

Cat comes through for a hot second and Ned is super excited but then just like that she’s gone and Beric Dondarrion is in her place and they just stare at each other.

Ned: “Well. This sucks.” 

When Robb and Rickon both come through Ned hugs them ofc and they have a nice moment and then he just goes “Okay now go before they get here.” 

“What? Father, I just got here and you want me to go? We have so much to catch up on!” 

Ned, who is having war flashbacks to Robert and Rhaegar arguing about lapels for 5 hours: “Trust me. You Don’t Want This.” 

Someone said that the two days Jon was in the afterlife he and Robb did tequila shots and honestly? Canon. 

They love watching what’s happening down below!! Robert didn’t talk to Ned for a blissful 2 months after finding out about Jon but then Gendry and Arya just had to sleep together and Robert was suddenly buddy-buddy with him again about how they were going to join their houses. 

Arya rejecting Gendry’s proposal: Robert was screaming, yelling about how this made no sense, and dammit why did Ned raise his daughter like this? 

Ned, softly: Oh thank god 

Watching Jon and Dany is #rough and Robert keeps being so righteously smug about everything and Ned and Rhaegar are suffering 

“Ha, the Targaryen queen is mad after all. I should have killed her when I had the chance, shouldn’t I, Ned?” “Hey, that’s my sister, you prick, she’s being a Targaryen it doesn’t make sense for her to be this mad she hasn’t shown the signs!” 

Ned & Robert in unison: “Shut up Rhaegar.” 

Ned: “.......but yes he’s right this doesn’t make sense.” 

Ned multiple times watching his children s5-8: *looks out window in the afterlife* ‘Did I somehow end up watching the badly written play Arya was watching?’ 

Ned in the finale, watching his children come into strong positions: *holds up Westerosi equivalent of a camera and multiple signs* I Love My Children 

Also lmao Robb and Rickon. Robb is Sansa’s biggest cheerleader and he Loves Jon greatly but by god does he get frustrated with him. 

“No, Jon, this is - NO! LISTEN. TO. SANSA. Holy fuck Jon thank the gods I didn’t legitimatize yo-SHE’S YOUR AUNT YOU - JON! JON!” 

When Sansa gets crowned he literally tears up and starts shouting “Queen in the North!” and won’t shut up about Sansa and everyone’s like, Okay, Damn, We Get It(TM) 

Rickon: “Hey Robb! I love Sansa too but oh my god. Shut up!” 

Robb, wearing a “Proud Brother of Sansa Stark” t-shirt and slowly lowering his Queen In The North signs with Sansa’s face on them: “Sorry, have I been mentioning that Sansa became queen in the North? I guess I didn’t notice haha.” 

Rickon’s response to everything in season 8: “Hahahaha this is fucking dumb.” 

Rickon was bitter when Viserion died bc he became a wight but then Rhaegal died and everyone else was shocked and Rickon is jumping up and down because fuck yeah time to ride a dragon in the afterlife. 

I feel like meeting the significant others would be super fun??? Like Margaery is there and she starts talking about Sansa and Robb is like “:D” and then he starts realizing that she definitely liked her and he’s like “huh. She doesn’t seem bad but I only have 13-year-old Sansa’s taste in guys to go with here soOOOOO.....” 

Robb always wondered if Bran liked Meera or Jojen and Rickon lowkey wondered too but then they meet Jojen again and he’s So Fucking Weird that they’re both like. Oh yeah. Why was this ever a question. 

Lyanna and Elia are both in the afterlife but for the most part they hang out with each other and ignore everyone else except for snide commentary. 

Whenever Cat does comes back she’s more than a little peeved at Ned. “Didn’t think I could keep the secret, could you? I hated Jon, and you couldn’t bother to go, ‘Oh, hey, Cat, darling, he’s not my son????’ You couldn’t, Ned????” “I’m sorry, Cat, I was sworn to secrecy -” 

Lyanna, eating popcorn in the corner: “Oh I meant don’t tell Robert or anyone with you know, power. I thought that was pretty obvious don’t blame me for you being too hardcore about it.” Ned: “Yeah you’re right I guess I should have assumed you were fine with it after all you NAMED HIM AEGON!” This causes a “hey” from Rhaegar and Lyanna, and Robert just says that it is dumb and the trio starts arguing. “Oye, Cat, amazing that they can’t even get along in the -” “I’m not talking to you, Eddard.” “Oh, Cat, I’m sorry. You can’t be mad at me forever.” “Actually I can!” “Caaaaaat.”

Rhaegar, watching Arya be Azor Ahai while Ned & Robert cheer in the background: *eye twitching* 

Elia: “Huh. Guess you really did All That for nothing, huh babe?” “Don’t.”

Robert: “Lyanna loved me, tell him my love, we were betrothed!” 

Lyanna: “I’ve told you a million times I never loved you.” 

Rhaegar: “HA!” 

Elia: “You were a boy toy, hun.” 

“Elia! That’s -” “Unfair? Is it?” “Yes!” “Oh, sorry. Does it make you want to annul your marriage to me and directly cause our children’s deaths and put me in immediate harm with no real protection because you want to go after a fantasy story? Honey?” “....sorry.” 

[crimefightingspiderguy]

awkward

Summary: "Can you write an imagine where Peter Parker and the reader get stuck in an elevator right after an argument?" (REQUESTED BY @smilexcaptainx )

Warnings: None that I can think of?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word count: 2,122

A/N: Sorry that this took forever to post, I was going to do it during my winter break but I got an eye infection and I could no longer see what I was doing long enough to write it. But I finally got it done and so here it is! Hope you enjoy :)

     “I don’t understand what your problem is (Y/N),” Peter said, making you scoff at him and roll your eyes. The two of you were currently walking home to your shared apartment complex. You had just found out last night that he was Spider-Man and this was the first time since then that the two of you were alone and you had gotten to ask him about it. “My problem is, you’re out there every night risking your life, and for what? No one asked you to do this Peter!” You throw your hands in the air in frustration. You didn’t want him to get hurt, that’s all. “No one had to ask me! It’s called being kind, maybe you should try it out sometime!” Peter retorts back, and instant regret fills his face once the words settled in the air between you two. “Well, if I’m so unkind and you’re such a saint, why do you keep me around?” You ask, tears of hurt and frustration well up in your eyes and you turn and begin speed walking, getting farther ahead than Peter. “(Y/N)! Wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” Peter yelled after you, but you ignored him and kept on going. Peter sighed, knowing it was best not to run after you, giving you some space and time to cool down. 

     You ran up to your apartment and into your room, glad your parents weren’t home from work yet to pester you about your day. About why Peter wasn’t over for your usual post-school homework session. You lay on your bed and let out a sob, wondering if Peter actually meant those words. You figured that he probably didn’t really mean it, it was just a heat of the moment thing, but it still stung. Still, you kind of wanted to get back at him. The two of you had been friends since Peter got dropped off by his parents at his Aunt May and Uncle Ben’s. You grew up just a couple apartment doors down from him and when Aunt May quit her job to stay with Peter, your parents offered to pay her to babysit you. Aunt May quickly agreed, welcoming the extra income and someone to distract Peter when she needed to do something like cook. The two of you had spent your entire childhood together and then when it came time for school, Aunt May was more than willing to drop you off and pick you up with Peter, then watch you until your parents got home from work. You’d been through thick-and-thin together and you almost never really argued with each other, unless it was some silly debate about Star Wars. So Peter’s comment really did come as a shock to you, and part of you wanted to shock him back. You knew it might come off as a little petty, but you knew that in the end, you’d go back to being friends and have a good laugh about all this, so why not have a little fun with it on your end. You decided to give Peter the silent treatment for around a week, or however long it took for him to get the point. It was not going to be easy, seeing as you not only lived next to him, but you rode the same bus to and from school, we're in the same extra-curriculars and had study sessions every day after school. But, luckily you were starting a new job this week, so hopefully, you’d be spending most of your free time there, so it would be slightly easier to change your typical routine. 

     The next day was going to be the first day of your evil plan. Peter, of course, had already tried messaging and calling you multiple times the night before, but you just silenced his number so that you got his messages, but they wouldn’t bug you. You decided the best way to begin your avoiding was to catch a different bus to school. There happened to be a bus that took the same route as the one you usually took, but it left 30 minutes early. As you were hugging your parents good-bye, they gave you a confused look, “Honey, you’re 40 minutes early?” your mom questioned. “Yeah, I’m avoiding Peter to get back at him for saying that I wasn’t nice” you shrugged and walked out the door as you parents sighed and lightly chucked at how petty you were being. You managed to walk past Peter’s apartment without him catching you. Walking down to the bus stop, you got on the bus when it arrived and sat down next to a friendly looking mother holding her daughter. You start scrolling through your phone when you notice that you have more messages from Peter. You go through and read them. “Where are you?” “Answer your door” “We’re gonna be late for school!” “I’m leaving, message me when you wake up.”. Luckily your parents had left for work before Peter came over to walk to the bus stop with you, so they didn’t ruin your plan by telling him. When you got to the school, you decided to hide in the library so you didn’t run into Peter until first period. 

     You did have your first class with Peter, but it wouldn’t be hard to avoid him. He knows you don’t like to talk in class, so you’ll just sit farther away from him but he’ll know not to pass you notes because it would only piss you off more. You waited until the bell rang to enter the room, knowing Peter’s never been late to a class. Luckily there were two seats left open, your usual one next to Peter, and one right in the front, next to the door. Peter’s head quickly shot up at the sight of you, and he smiled and waved at you. You simply ignored him and sat in the seat near the door. You heard Ned lean over to Peter and say “Damn, dude, what did you do?”, making you smirk, knowing that your plan was working. When the bell rang, you quickly got up and started talking to the teacher, coming up with many questions about the term paper that you had assigned. You had already finished it, but you needed an excuse to not talk to Peter. He sort of awkwardly waited for you, but then realizing you wouldn’t be done anytime soon, he left for his next class so he wouldn’t be late. You smiled at your teacher and thanked her for the help, leaving for your next class. 

     You were doing good so far at avoiding Peter, at least up until lunch. You didn’t really know what you were going to do for lunch. You weren’t allowed to eat in the library, otherwise, that would be your go-to. You decided to go to lunch like you normally would, and you would simply not sit at your normal table. After all, Peter wasn’t your only friend. You went into the cafeteria and got your lunch, then walked over to the table that Flash was sitting at. You and Flash weren’t best friends because he was an asshole to Peter, but you tolerated him because he was nice to you and he was on your academic-decathlon team. When you sat down, Flash gave you a confused look, but didn’t say anything and continued his conversation with his other friends. You snuck a look over to where Peter, Ned, and MJ were sitting and they all had very confused and almost bewildered looks on their faces. You simply look down and eat in peace. 

     Luckily, Peter had dropped out of band about a week ago, so you didn’t have to try and avoid him there. However, your next challenge was the academic-decathlon meeting. You decided to pretend to be sick. Walking into the meeting room, Peter got excited to see you, but his face fell a little when you instantly walked over to the teacher instead of coming to him to explain your behavior. “I’m really sorry to do this, but I think I going to have to skip practice today. I just got done vomiting, and I feel like it’s going to be an on and off type of thing.” You say rubbing your “upset” stomach. The teacher just nodded and told you to get better, sending you home. You walk out, not looking back at Peter. You quickly got out of school and took the bus home. Since you had some time before you had to leave for work, you sat down and did some homework. You were startled out of your concentration when there was a banging on the front door. You walk over to the door and look through the peephole, it was Peter. You sigh, luckily the door was already locked, so you could leave out the window without worrying about someone breaking in. You quickly grabbed your bag and hopped out the window onto the fire escape, while Peter continued to bang on your door, “(Y/N), I know you’re in there! I know you went home sick, come talk to me please!”. You could hear the hurt in his voice, and you almost caved, but you really did need to get to work. 

     You made your way down the fire escape and to the nearest train station. You recently got a job being none other than Pepper Potts aka, the CEO of Stark Industries, assistant. The building was so far away from the apartments, you knew there was no chance of you running into Peter at least until you got home. Your first day actually went really amazing! Pepper was super nice to you and kept telling you how excited she was to start working with you. When the day was done, Pepper showed you to the elevator to take you downstairs. When the doors open, you were met with none other than Peter Parker. “Thanks again, (Y/N), I’ll see you tomorrow” Pepper smiled, you returned it and got into the elevator with Peter, not saying anything even after the doors closed. It was sort of awkward because neither of you knew what the other was doing in Stark Tower, and neither of you wanted to break the silence. Peter finally sighed and slammed his hand on the stop button, causing the elevator to turn off. “What the hell is going on (Y/N)? Why have you been avoiding me all day and all last night?” Peter asked turning himself to face you, crossing his arms. You sighed, “I was trying to get back at you for hurting my feelings, by giving you the silent treatment.” you admit. Peter looked offended, “And just how long were you planning on ignoring me?”. You shrugged, “As long as it took for the message to sink in”. Peter rolled his eyes at you, knowing how stubborn you could be. “You’re such a child sometimes” Peter teased you. You knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way because of his tone, so you didn’t get offended. “At least I don’t insult my best friend.” You retorted with some sass. “Look, I really am sorry about what I said, I just was getting so frustrated… and I don’t know, I meant for it to come out a lot more sarcastic then it did I guess.” You nodded, knowing that he was being sincere. “Well, I’m not sorry that I ignored you all day. I’m actually pretty good at the silent treatment as I’ve come to discover.” You smirked at him, “But I do accept your apology.” You smile, opening up your arms for a hug, which he gladly accepted.

     After you both left the building you took the train back home together, and that’s when you finally asked him the question that had been bugging you for the past half-hour. “What were you doing at Stark Tower?”. “Oh, Tony’s sort-of took Spider-Man under his wing,” Peter said, blushing a little as you congratulate him. “What were you doing there?” Peter asked you. “I got a job working as Pepper’s assistant!” You say excitedly to him. “How come you didn’t tell me? That’s awesome!” Peter says. “How come you didn’t tell me about Spider-Man?” You retort, “I don’t have to tell you everything Peter.” You smirk at him, knowing that you had made a good point that he couldn’t necessarily argue. “How about, from now on, we are completely honest with each other?” Peter offers, holding out his hand to shake on it. “Deal,” You say, taking his hand. 

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[stevie-steven-stevington]

Febuwhump Day 4: “Where are you?”

Fandom: MCU Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark Category: Gen Rating: T Warnings: big trigger warning for depression and suicidal thoughts Words: 2k

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“Where are you?”

The call patches through, because of course it does. It’s Tony’s suit, after all, and apparently two declined calls at 3 in the morning is enough for his mentor to force Karen to pick up the call regardless of what Peter tells her to do. He should’ve known not to bring the mask, but he’d just wanted to talk to someone for a bit and Karen seemed like the best choice at the time.

“That depends,” Peter says, tone flat. His grip on the railing he’s sitting on tightens, and his gaze settles on the outline of the tallest building in his line of sight. “Do you mean physically or mentally?” He’s being difficult, just because he can. Because he’s just out of it enough that the little voice in his head that constantly snaps at him to be as easy to handle as possible has quieted.

He kicks his feet back and forth like a child on a swing whose feet don’t reach the ground and has to remind himself that he actually is a child. Not even sixteen, not for another two weeks.

Not at all, if he actually goes through with this.

He hasn’t quite decided yet. He’d thought he had, when he was making his way here, but apparently it’s one thing to be certain in the comfort of his own bed and another thing entirely to be certain on the edge of the Queensboro bridge.

Peter will be the first to say that he’s not afraid of dying, and until now he’d thought that to be true.

Maybe he’s not afraid of dying. Maybe he’s just afraid of what will happen in the aftermath.

Part of him knows that May, who never signed up to be a parent anyway, will ultimately be better off without him. As will Tony, who never really needed him. And Ned, who could make better friends if he wasn’t stuck with him.

But there’s a little piece of him that’s saying, They don’t want to lose you. May doesn’t want to lose her only family, Tony doesn’t want to lose his mentee, Ned doesn’t want to lose his best friend.

That little piece of him is what’s kept him perched on the railing this long. He wishes it would shut the hell up.

“Physically, Peter,” Tony snaps, but there’s way more anxiety in his voice than anger. Peter kind of wishes he would shut up too, but difficult or not, he’d never say that out loud. “We’ll talk about ‘mentally’ when I get there.”

This is what you get for putting the tracker in the suit and not the mask, Peter thinks. Rookie mistake.

He hums softly, considers just taking the mask off and letting Tony talk to air. Almost does before it hits him that being an asshole to Tony would be the last thing he does.

Huh.

He hadn’t thought about any of that.

(He doesn’t remember the last thing his parents said to him. He was only four when they died, he barely remembers anything they said to him.

He remembers exactly what Uncle Ben told him before he died in his arms.

He doesn’t know which one hurts less.)

What’s the last thing he said to May? To Ned?

Did he tell them he loves them? Did he tell them that they mean the world to him and he never could’ve asked for a better aunt-turned-mother or a better best friend?

Do they know how important they are to him?

They have to. May, Ned, Tony, they all have to know that they’re the reasons Peter has even held on this long. They have to know that everything, everything Peter did was for them.

They have to.

...But what if they don’t?

He knows what it’s like to blame yourself for someone else’s death, despite not being the one who pulled the trigger or pushed them off the bridge. He knows just how much it hurts to spend your days wondering what you could’ve done different, what you could have done better. Wondering if you could’ve saved them, or at least made their death a little less painful. Wondering if it was all caused by something you did or didn’t do.

Wondering if, directly or indirectly, it’s all your fault.

Can he put that burden on someone else?

Does he even want to do this?

He always hears people say that it gets better. That there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. That things are never as hopeless as they seem.

What if all of that is true and he ends up missing out because he was too weak to hang on?

Maybe he is afraid of dying.

(He’s afraid of living, too. Truly, deeply afraid of living. But isn’t everyone?)

Fuck. Fuck.

He wants to do this. He was ready to do this, ready to find what he’d thought would be the answer to all his problems. He came out here for one reason and one reason only, and that was to jump.

But now that he’s let himself think, now that he’s let himself feel…

He’s terrified. He’s sad and exhausted and hurting and terrified.

A shiver runs down his spine as the cold air bites at his bare skin. He didn’t change before leaving the apartment, didn’t think he’d be out here long enough for the fact that he’s wearing basketball shorts and a thin t-shirt to matter.

(Didn’t think he’d be alive long enough for it to matter.)

And yet, here he is. Freezing his ass off in the middle of the night because he’s a coward.

I’m a coward, he thinks as he looks down one last time, takes in the distance between the top of the bridge and the water below, then sucks in a breath and jerks his head back.

I’m a coward, he thinks as he stares up at the night sky and just breathes for a long moment.

I’m a coward, he thinks as he cuts off whatever Tony is saying to tell him, “I’m on the Queensboro bridge,” and then pulls the mask off with one hand, holding firm on the railing with the other, and lays it neatly across his lap.

I’m doing the right thing, he tells himself as he sits on the edge of a bridge and waits.

He doesn’t believe it, but the words do have a certain ring to them.

Peter knows exactly where Tony is without looking up for a solid two minutes before his mentor even lands on the bridge. When he finally joins Peter, who still hasn’t bothered to climb down from the railing (it’s like a safety net, somehow, the knowledge that he is still one mere slip of the fingers away from the end), Peter glances over and gives a haphazard wave.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, casual and nonchalant but in that way that someone who’s given up on being aware (or awake. Or alive). “How’s your night going?”

The Iron Man suit opens up to reveal a pajama-clad Tony, whose expression screams what the actual fuck, kid? His eyes flit over Peter, multiple times, until he seems satisfied that he’s unhurt. That, for the time being, he’s at least physically okay.

His mental stability is still a whole other story, but. But. He’s alive. He’s breathing.

That’s got to count for something.

(Or maybe it’s the opposite, maybe the fact that he’s alive and breathing makes everything that much worse.)

“It was pretty alright until Karen told me that a certain teenage spider-kid was outside in his mask at 3 AM,” Tony replies, and his nonchalance is markedly forced. Carefully, but with no measure of reluctance, he swings his legs over the bridge railing and settles next to Peter. “You wanna tell me what you’re doing on the edge of a bridge at this time of night?”

Peter tugs lightly at his earlobe, a nervous tick that he’s had for as long as he can remember. Says, “Maybe. What do I get for it?”

The joke doesn’t go over very well, which…was to be expected, he supposes. Tony just stares at him. “Peter.”

Tony only calls him by his real name when it’s serious. It’s always Pete or kiddo or Underoos. 

“I’m not going to.” He has to offer something. He is, in fact, aware that this is not normal, nor okay, in any sense of the words, and there’s really no point in dragging it out. “Jump, I mean. I’m not - I wanted to, but now I…don’t. I - I can’t.”

A gentle hand covers his. “I’m glad you didn’t. But - but Peter, you’re gonna have to give me more than that.”

Peter almost wishes he could cry. Just to let out all the...stuff that’s burning low in his chest, that’s been trying to eat a hole in his skin for as long as he can remember. But his tone is level, miraculously so, even as he says, “I don’t really…know what to tell you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s quiet. After a moment, Peter turns his head to watch the emotions play out across the profile of his face, watch him try to figure out what the hell to say.

He’s not sure what he wants Tony to say. He’s not sure what he needs to hear right now.

Slowly, Tony says, “You can start by telling me why you’re up here. Or - or you can start from the beginning... if there is one.”

Peter bites down on his bottom lip, hard. Lets go of the railing with his right hand and runs it up and down his thigh. He can practically taste his own anxiety, and he wonders if that’s part of the enhanced senses or if that’s just part of his regular-person issues.

“I...sometimes I feel like everyone would be better off without me.”

He can feel just how badly Tony wants to say, We wouldn’t, but he stays silent. Lets Peter work up to saying what he needs to say.

Because he needs to say it.

Because he realizes now.

He never wanted to die. He wanted someone to save him.

And maybe that someone has to be himself.

“I spend a lot of time hating myself. I - I think I’m too…annoying or stupid or - or worthless, and I feel like I’m a burden, and there’s this…this part of my head that just keeps telling me that I’m a fuck-up and that I’m - that I could fix all of that by just...just…”

He stops. Squeezes his eyes shut, feels Tony squeeze his hand. Takes a deep, shaky breath. Keeps going. “There’s so much stuff, Mr. Stark. In - in my head. It’s never...it’s never quiet anymore, Mr. Stark. I can barely hear myself think anymore because it’s so fucking loud. My head is so fucking loud and I - I just - it’s so much -”

It doesn’t even feel real. Every word sounds like it’s referring to someone else.

But no. This is all him.

The tears still don’t come. Tony’s saying something, but Peter can’t listen because he’s too busy looking down and realizing that he is one mere slip of the fingers away from the end.

Dizzily, he swings a leg over the railing and climbs down. As soon as his feet touch solid ground, he’s dropping to his hands and knees, the steadiness finally leaving him.

He’s shaking.

He’s shaking and he feels like the whole world has finally come crashing down around him, but he’s alive. And he’s breathing.

“We’ll get you some help,” Tony is saying. Peter can’t tell if Tony’s crying or if he is.

He’s pulled into a hug. One hand rubs gentle circles into his back while another threads into the hair as the base of his head.

“You’ll be okay, Peter. We’ll get you some help, and you’ll be alright, I promise.”

And he’s alive.

And he’s breathing.

[bmmurdock]

Third part of my 5+1 fic, some fluff this time! May can’t attend parent-teacher conference so ofc Tony goes instead.

(Part One) (Part Two)

5 Times Tony Helped Peter

+1 Time He Didn’t

3 (1,7k)

Tony’s concentration was disrupted when an annoying noise started to ring out in his lab, and he realized, after a few seconds, that said noise came from his phone. 

“FRIDAY, answer it and tell whoever it is I’m in meeting or something, you pick.” He said, not even lifting his eyes from the careful work he was doing on a particularly intricate part of his suit.

“Sir, it’s May Parker.” 

Ah. Luckily FRIDAY knew better than to always listen to him. 

Suddenly reminded of his last call with dear Aunt May, when she freaked out at him after finding out about Peter, he decided he didn’t want to take any chances in making her angry again and picked up. 

“Hello, Mr. Stark-er, Tony?” She corrected herself. It was weird for her to still call him Mr. Stark after screaming at him over the phone for over half an hour. “It’s May Parker. Is it a bad time?” 

“No, not at all.” He said, eyeing his tools left by the suit. “I’m always free for the Parkers. How can I help you?” 

“Well, you see, today is the day of parent-teacher conferences at Peter’s school, and I can’t really afford to skip another shift, so I thought maybe you could go instead? Please, don’t feel obliged, I know you’re a busy man, if you can’t it is totally okay, but if you can just know Peter would love it. He looks up to you, and I understand the two of you have been getting closer, recently.” May told him, and Tony didn’t need to hear anything after that first sentence to know he would go. 

It would be a little weird, maybe, to attend a parent-teacher conference. He was definitely becoming something akin to a father figure to Peter, but Tony hoped he wouldn’t think he was trying to replace his late uncle. Still, he cared about the kid, he cared a lot, and he was proud of him. Nothing bad in listening to his teachers gushing about him, right? He had seen it in his lab multiple times, the kid was nothing short of gifted, if not a genius for his age. The first proof he had of that were his web-shooters, which he made by himself, and by scavenging components God only knows where, when he was only 14. 

So yeah, his teachers would have nothing but great things to say about him, he was sure about that, and he wanted to hear all of them.

“Of course May, no problem. Send me a text with the time and place and I’ll be there.” He answered, the updates on his suit already forgotten in his mind. 

“Oh, that’s great, thank you! Another thing, I haven’t actually told Peter about this yet as I didn’t want to get his hopes up in case you said no. Do you want to tell him?” 

“You know what? I think I’m going to make it a surprise. Just to embarrass him a little in front of his friends.”

“That’s actually a good idea. These last few nights he came back home way after his curfew, and he thinks I don’t know. So, be as loud and obnoxious as you can be, I’m totally on board with that.” She said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Oh trust me, I will. Thank you, May. Bye!” He said, ending the call. Obnoxious? Yeah, that wouldn’t be difficult for him.

“Peter! Hi, I’m here!” He shouted from the end of the hall, making all the parents and students in it turn to look at him, dressed in an expensive suit and his orange glasses. As people started to recognize him, the looking rapidly turned into openly staring. He was used to it, of course, but the kid was not. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“Mr. Stark? What are you doing here?” Peter said urgently yet almost whispering, rapidly walking towards him with wide eyes and grabbing his arm, probably to lead him somewhere more private, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Ah, yes, I forgot to tell you. Your aunt called me to tell me she wouldn’t be able to make it, so I came.” He answered, keeping the level of his voice way louder than Peter’s. People were starting to take pictures now, as he was able to tell by the raised phones and the occasional flash.

The kid was about to say something but Tony interrupted him before he could start, turning towards the teenagers who had followed Peter.

“Oh, hi, you must be Peter’s friends. Ned, right? And MJ? I heard a lot about you. I’m Tony.” He said, offering his hand to the two teenagers, who shook it one after the other. He barely kept in a chuckle after seeing Peter’s face become completely red.

“Oh, my God, Tony Stark knows who I am,” he heard the kid whisper to himself, staring at Tony. From the looks of it he was about to hyperventilate. The other girl, MJ, was way calmer, and seemed to be eyeing him critically. She didn’t say anything. He could kind of see why Peter both liked and feared her.

“Mr. Stark you didn’t have to come, I mean, I know you have a lot of important meetings to attend and people to meet, this is just a stupid school thing. Really, it’s no big deal!” Peter said, and Tony realized that he meant it. As if Tony didn’t care about any aspect of his life other than his being Spiderman, as if Tony didn’t care enough about him to do something that would make him happy. The kid really needed to work on his self-esteem.

“What? Please, Peter. Of course I came. Besides my wanting to check on you, I also need to check how my interns are doing in school, don’t I?” He told the kid, hoping he would understand the underlying message.

And it seemed like he did, as something flashed in his eyes, something Tony wasn’t able to decipher, yet.

“Yeah, well, I guess so.” He answered, when he seemed to notice the crowd that had gathered around them during their conversation.

“Please Mr. Stark we’re making a scene, can we go somewhere else?” Peter asked, while continuously sneaking glances to the people staring at them. And they were, in fact, causing a bit of a scene in the middle of the hallway. Nothing unmanageable, though.

“No way, kiddo. And please, I told you a million times, call me Tony.” He told Peter, even if he knew it would probably take years before he dropped the ‘Mr. Stark’. The kid was just like that.   “So, where do I have to go? Who do I talk with first?” He said, taking off his glasses and acting normally, as if people weren’t taking photos and videos of him at that very moment. He was used to it, after all. And even if Peter was acting like he was embarrassed, (which, well, maybe he was a little bit) Tony knew that he would be happy about his classmates knowing he was on a first-name basis with the Tony Stark. It was only fair, as he bragged with his friends about Peter every chance he got.

“Oh, uhm, I think Mr. Bennet is free, room 5A. He teaches Spanish,” Peter told him after briefly checking the list in his hand.

“Great. Come on, let’s go then.” He said, putting a hand on Peter’s back and letting himself be guided towards the class.

Well. To say he was proud of the kid would be an understatement. All of his teachers, as he predicted, gushed about him and told Tony how talented he was, especially in science (which was nothing new to Tony, but he still swelled with pride as he heard somebody else tell him).

He was also sure that none of them had exaggerated in telling him these things just to please him (some of them did look a bit star-struck) as Peter’s grades were proof enough of their truthfulness, and he was told that if he kept it up, with all his extracurriculars and the fame of his school, he would easily get in any college he wanted. Of course he would go to MIT but Tony wasn’t going to press the subject for, like, another week, at least. The kid had better be prepared for it.

Even though he didn’t want to let on how proud he actually was, he still decided to tell the kid that, he deserved it.

“Peter, I know I don’t tell you this very often, and I am not good at all that touchy-feely stuff, but you did good, kiddo. I’m proud of you.” Tony told him as they entered his flashy orange Audi, which gathered a lot of stares itself.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. It means a lot to me that you came. And also, people at my school will finally believe that my internship with you is real, that’s a plus!” He said giddily, in his seat.

“What? Why, didn’t they before?” He asked, surprised, turning towards Peter.

“Well, at first they did, but then someone convinced them that it was a lie and no one believed me anymore. Besides Ned and MJ, of course.” Peter explained, and things started to add up in Tony’s brain.

“Is this ‘someone’ the same someone that has made you feel like shit multiple times? You think I don’t notice, kid, but I do, even when you don’t want to talk about it.” Tony said, brows furrowing.

There was a moment of silence before Peter talked again.

“Yes, it is. But I’m sorry, I’m feeling very good right now, maybe we could talk about it some other time? I swear I’ll tell you, I just want to go take a walk or eat an ice-cream or something.” He said, the little smile he had plastered on beginning to falter.

Tony decided to let it go, for now, not wanting to ruin either his or Peter’s mood. But he would definitely not forget about it.

“Alright, Peter. You know what? Hell, we’ll have ice-cream for dinner. Just don’t tell Aunt May, please.” Tony answered, causing Peter’s smile to return in full force to his mouth.

That night Peter ended up sleeping at the compound, after eating a full tub of ice-cream and falling asleep on the couch during the second (or was it the third?) film of their Star Wars marathon.

As he watched Peter drool on a pillow, feet draped on Tony’s lap, he felt happy.

(Part Four)

Thank you for reading this, hope you enjoyed it! So I also need to thank my fantastic beta who I haven’t mentioned in the other two parts (sorry i’m an asshole) @peterisspidermanconfirmed, you’re a lifesaver!

Also, if you’re interested, I have finally uploaded the story on ao3 (link).

Next part Tony will deal with Flash, so expect some protective!Tony coming your way!