#but no now it’s just another ‘Peter is in high school’ story. sigh.

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 2

Summary: Your rivalry with Remus continues as you spend a night out with his friends at Sirius’ concert.

CW: Alcohol Consumption, mentions of vomit (briefly), references to sex.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x reader

Chapter 1

—

A few days later and you were finally settling into your new home. And as far as roommates go, the boys were pretty good ones.

James was usually out early in the morning at the gym or Rugby training and he’d often return with coffees for everyone. Sirius was a natural born entertainer and always had a joke or a silly anecdote to amuse you with when you returned home from work.

It was just Remus that hadn’t warmed up to you yet. However, you had no idea why. You’d done everything you could think of to win him over. You cleaned up the kitchen for him before he got home from his lectures, you left extra for him when cooking dinner, you even offered to do his laundry when he was too busy studying for upcoming exams. But still, nothing. No matter what you did, you were greeted with a cold disinterest and one word answers.

By the time the weekend rolled around, you were exhausted, both from him and your long week at work. You were hugely looking forward to Sirius’ show. You figured it’d be the perfect way to unwind.

—

You were squashed into a booth next to James and a girl named Dorcas, twirling your straw in your hand.

The bar was full, thick with energy and cigarette smoke. It was dimly lit, some dive down a back alley. Apparently Sirius and his band played here every Saturday night.

“So y/n! Mary tells me you want to be a writer!” Lily called across the table, barely audible over the clattering of glasses and loud talking that filled the room

“Yeah, it’s something I’m working towards,” you replied. “Although I’ve been working on my novel for a couple of years now but it’s still not quite there yet.”

“Oh cool!” Peter chimed in. He was sitting beside his girlfriend Sybil, a hand around hers under the table. They looked positively smitten with each other. It reminded you of how glaringly single you were.

“What’s your book about?” Dorcas asked.

You sighed. “I guess you could call it a fantasy.”

“Oh is it one of those ones about wizards and magic and stuff?” James pondered enthusiastically.

“I mean, kind of? Not really.” You replied.

“Oh good,” Dorcas mused. “I don’t really like those kinds of stories. I’ve always found them to be a bit childish. I mean, the idea of wizards living amongst us? it’s a bit absurd if you ask me.”

You giggled. “Yes well, I’d say mine is more of a high fantasy. Anyway, enough about me. What do you all do for work?”

You took a sip of your drink.

“Well, I’m a primary school teacher.” Lily offered.

“Oh wow. And how do enjoy that?”

She giggled, her dimples appearing as she did. You had to admit, she was stunningly beautiful, with long auburn hair and astonishing sea-foam eyes. You understood why James had been pining after her for so long.

“I love it,” she responded. “It’s wonderful knowing you’re able to shape a young person’s life.”

“That sounds really rewarding,” you responded.

“It is,” she smiled. “But it’s far from impressive compared to what some of the others do. I mean, Dorcas here is a lawyer and Remus is studying to be a doctor!”

Eyes fell on Remus and you watched as he recoiled slightly under the attention.

As the conversation drew on, you learned that Peter was a Banker, Sybil read tarot cards for a living and Dorcas’ girlfriend Marlene played lead guitar in Sirius’ band.

“Just wait until you see her,” Mary exclaimed. “She’s incredible.”

“I’m looking forward to it!” You replied. You took another sip of your drink and realised you’d finished your glass. Upon looking around the table you saw that the others were in a similar position.

“Looks like I’m in need of a refill. Next round is on me guys!”

There was a slew of cheers from the group as you slid out of the booth and made your way towards the bar. You placed your order and then took a seat on a stool as you waited for the drinks to be made.

You were scrolling through instagram when you felt a presence beside you. Looking up, your heart sank slightly when you noticed it was Remus.

“I thought you could use some help carrying everything,” he muttered, taking a seat beside you.

“Thanks but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah well, I could use some space. The table was getting a little crowded.”

Your eyes raked over his figure, you saw the was he was nervously fiddling with his hands. It dawned on you that maybe the bar scene wasn’t really his thing so much as it was his friends’. He seemed to be a little overwhelmed.

“Okay,” you relented.

A few drinks were placed on a tray in front of you, and Remus reached out to grab his, taking a long sip. Your eyebrows raised.

“You’re drinking straight whisky? That’s pretty hardcore.”

“It’s referred to as a whisky neat,” he responded matter-of-factly (as if you hadn’t been the one to order it for him). “And it really isn’t that bad. I have a pretty high alcohol tolerance. Why? What did you order.”

“A gin and tonic.”

“Exactly my point.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him. You could help but scoff.

“Are you implying that I can’t hold my alcohol?”

Remus shrugged, taking another sip. “I’m just saying that some people have a higher tolerance is all.”

A mix of irritation and downright anger began to build in your gut. You’d had enough of him. His coldness towards you, his constant condescending remarks. Fuck it, you thought, I’m done being nice. If he wanted to start something, then so be it.

“Fine,” you challenged. “If you’re so sure about that, £20 says that I can out-drink you tonight.”

He turned to face you, a brow quirked questioningly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just shake on it, Remus.”

“Fine. It’s your funeral.”

You shook hands. Then you turned to the bartender.

“Excuse me, I’d like to change my order. Could I get a whisky, neat?”

—

The band came on around 10pm and the crowd cheered wildly.

Sirius was the first to enter, clad in black and leather, looking like a true rockstar.

His eyes twinkled beneath the stage lights. Even on the narrow bar stage, he managed to look ethereal.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?”

The crowd roared once more, you among them.

“That’s good! We’re Snakes and Lions and we have a few songs to play for you. Is that alright?”

The crowed cheered again.

As the first notes of the song trickled through the room, you couldn’t help but stare up at Sirius. His long flowing hair, the tattoos that peaked out from under his black tank top, the way his eyeliner brought out the grey of his eyes.

A glance to Remus beside you, told you he was feeling the same way. He was staring up at Sirius like he was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. And you couldn’t blame him.

Still, you felt and odd pang of jealously shoot through your gut.

You decided to push it down, instead venturing to the bar for another drink.

As the set drew on, you could feel yourself beginning to sway, not only from the music but also the alcohol in your blood.

The room began to blur in a dizzying haze and you found yourself leaning into James who stood beside you, for support.

You continued to watch Sirius perform, entranced by the way he moved around the stage, his voice baring into your very soul.

At one point, when he he introduced the band (Barty on drums, Marlene on lead guitar, Evan on rhythm guitar and his little brother Regulus on bass), he sent you a wink and you felt your heart leap in your chest. You felt like you were watching a celebrity.

Still, amidst the music, your mind continued to wander to Remus. Your bet had carried on and you continued to down drink after drink out of sheer spite.

You were determined to beat him. Determined to prove that you could hold your own, that there was a spot for you in his home, whether he liked it or not.

By the time the band finished playing, you were far past the point of no return.

—

There was a light on somewhere. It was too bright, shining directly into your eyes. You groaned and rolled over, sinking in to your mattress. You tried to go back to sleep but you couldn’t. You needed to get up and turn the light off.

As you blinked your eyes open, you realised the light wasn’t in fact coming from the ceiling but from a window.

That’s odd, you thought, I don’t remember there being a window there.

The room was blurry as you looked around. It was clearly morning, that much you could tell, and there was a throbbing pain in your head. Last night was definitely a mistake.

It was then that your gaze fell on the football paraphernalia that sat on the dresser and the framed jersey that hung above it.

You shot upwards like a bullet, your eyes widening as you glanced around the space.

This wasn’t your room. It was James.

You gasped loudly as you looked down at yourself. Fuck! You were in your underwear.

You frantically looked around the space, searching for anything you could use to cover up. There was a black t-shirt thrown over a chair in the corner.

A sniff told you it was clean and you hastily threw it on, not caring right then that it wasn’t yours.

It didn’t cover much but it’d have to do for now.

It was at that moment the door swung open. You froze, wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.

James just looked you up and down for a moment, balancing a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Oh good. You’re up.”

“W-what happened last night?” You blurted out in a panic.

“You don’t remember?” The boy queried, moving to place the coffees down on the bedside table.

You shook your head.

“We didn’t… ah? You know?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that! We didn’t sleep together if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair in relief.

“Oh. Okay. Good.”

James just smirked. “Oh no, it’s much more embarrassing than that.”

You looked up at him nervously, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “Shit. What did I do?”

James moved to stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, muscles in his biceps flexing as he did.

“Well, you stumbled into my room at 2:30 in the morning complaining you were bored.”

You grimaced.

“Then you collapsed in my bed and refused to leave. Which I didn’t mind, by the way. But then you complained that it was too hot and insisted on taking your clothes off. I barely stopped you from getting completely naked. You were on a mission.”

You groaned as he chuckled at the story.

“James, I’m so sorry.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there.”

“What? Mostly naked in our roommates bed?”

He snorted. “Yeah sure. Something like that.”

He gestured towards the coffee that sat on the bedside table and you took a sip, letting the warm drink sooth your aching throat.

“I’m sure you have a hell of a hangover,” he sympathised. “Why don’t you finish your coffee and then go and have a shower while I whip up some breakfast.”

You smiled up at him gently. “James, you don’t have to-“

“Stop apologising,” he cut you off. “I’m happy to. Besides, what are roommates for if not to make you meals?”

—

It was a while before you re-emerged, having showered and now wearing clothes that were your own. You weren’t bothered to dry your hair though. You resigned to let it drip down your back.

You trudged into the living area to see that the rest of the boys had beaten you there.

James was standing in the kitchen cooking what smelt suspiciously (and deliciously) like bacon.

Sirius was lounging on the sofa, half watching a random action movie that was playing on the TV, set to low volume.

You assumed that choice was made for the benefit of Remus who looked a wreck. He was sitting at the dining table, face down with his head resting on his arms.

An evil sense of satisfaction washed over you when you realised that he was nursing a hangover just as bad as your own.

“Well!” You made sure to exclaim loudly, smacking your hands down hard on the table as you took a seat across from Remus.

He flinched and groaned as he sat up, sending you an irritable look.

“Last night was fun.”

Sirius chuckled from his across the room. “For some of us more so than others.”

“Y/n definitely had fun,” James teased as he approached the table, placing a plate of bacon and eggs before you. You slapped him playfully on the arm as he walked away.

You glanced around the room as you began to eat, your brows furrowing when you noticed something odd out of the window.

“Guys, why’s the pot plant out on the balcony?”

“I’m airing it out,” Sirius said absent-mindedly. “Remus threw up in it last night.”

A delighted smirk overtook your features. “Did he now?”

The boy just groaned, thumping his head back down onto the table.

“Here mate,” James stated, placing a plate of food down beside his head. “Eat something, it’ll make you feel better.”

You had to admit, you did feel better after some food. And James was a bloody good cook.

Then, suddenly an idea flitted through your mind.

“Did anyone keep a copy of the tab from last night?”

“Yeah I’ve got it in my wallet, why?” James confirmed.

“Could I see it please?”

He placed the receipt in front of you on the table and you began to add up the drinks that you remembered yourself and Remus ordering.

“Aha!” You shouted after a moment, jumping up and walking around the table. Remus looked up at you, displeased.

“I beat you! Pay up!”

“What’s this?” Sirius questioned curiously.

“Remus bet me £20 that he could out drink me and I proved him wrong!” You exclaimed.

“Hey, don’t put this on me,” Remus muttered. “It was her idea.”

“It looks like you’ve been a bad influence on our poor Remus,” James teased.

“Yeah, he never usually drinks that much,” Sirius added.

You looked at him suspiciously. “Huh? Really? That was big game you talked last night.”

“Remus is all talk,” Sirius joked. “Deep down he’s really just a little softy.”

“Fuck off, all of you,” the boy groaned.

“Not until I get my £20!”

James barked out a laugh.

“Come on buddy,” he stated in Remus’ direction. “You heard the girl, pay up!”

—

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy

@navs-bhat

@shushbruv

[labwebs]

🕸️catching up on the infinity sm comic and… lol

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 4

Dropping Esme off at home turns into more than just a simple kiss and ride. She parks and walks Esme to the front door. The tears had petered out halfway home, but it had left Esme shaky and exhausted. And when Alex opens the door to welcome them home, she can barely get out a "how was it?" before Esme bursts into fresh tears and darts up the stairs to her bedroom.

Alex watches her daughter go, then turns back to Kara with an accusatory look. Kara sighs. "It's a long story."

"I'll put the kettle on."

Over tea, Kara gives her sister the rundown of the evening-- omitting certain bits of her own exhanges with Lena. By the end, Alex is stunned, but heartbroken for her daughter.

"The highest of highs, and lowest of lows," Alex moans. "I was already going to call her out of school tomorrow, but now I really need to."

Kara nods. "I hope she'll remember the night more for what actually happened than the fact she lost the pictures of it. She really did have a good time, til she realized."

"What a night," Alex sighs. "Well, thank you for stepping in. I know she appreciated the time with you, in any case."

"Yeah," Kara nods. "Me too."

"You should come over more. She's not the only one who misses you."

"Alex..."

"You're not the only busy, I get that, but it sucks being the only one to reach out."

Kara closes her eyes. They've had variations of this conversation before, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. It's been busy lately, the last few years. And she knows she's missing out on key times with Esme, but... she's never been very good at juggling.

"I know." Then, "I should go. I'll call the venue in the morning, see if maybe one of the cleaning crew finds the phone and turns it in to lost and found or something."

All Alex can do is nod. "Thanks."

All thoughts of the ticket in her pocket disappears until the next day. Her calls to the arena have been fruitless-- no one had found anything, and no amount of cajoling or bribery could make them devote manpower to look for it. So when she's emptying her pockets to run a load of laundry, she's so frustrated she's willing to chuck it into the sun.

Until she sees a loop of a swoopy letter written on it, half hidden by a folded crease. Puzzled, Kara smooths it out and flips it over-- and finds a phone number written across its face in silver sharpie.

Stunned, Kara stares at the offending digits.

"What the fuck?"

---

It's probably her manager, Kara reasons. Or her assistant, at the very least. But when she punches the number into her phone, driven by the echo of her promise to Esme in her ears, she instantly recognizes the voice that answers.

"Hello?"

Kara's mouth goes dry. "Uhhhhhh.... hi? Shit. I mean--"

"I'm glad you called," Lena interrupts smoothly. "I have a phone here that's sorely missing its owner."

"Oh thank god," Kara releases with a heavy sigh. "Thank you."

"Sorry we weren't able to catch you before you left. I didn't see it until late."

"Esme was heartbroken," Kara tells her, unnecessarily. "You've saved a life."

"Her life? Or yours?" There's a tease in Lena's voice.

Kara grins. "Both. Definitely both."

A chuckle rumbles across the line. "Well, how can we get this to you?"

"Oh, if you could ship it..."

"No need," Lena says simply. "We're in town for another day or so. Is there a place we can deliver it?"

Kara blinks, surprised. "Um, sure. I'll be at my office in an hour."

"Perfect."

Kara rattles off the address to her, then books it to the office, determined not to miss the delivery. She stays on edge for the first hour, but soon finds herself distracted by her work-- until her assistant knocks tentatively on her door before poking her head in.

One look at Eve's baffled and somewhat dazed expression sends a bolt of electricity down Kara's spine.

"Miss Danvers? Um... there's someone here to see you. She-- she says its a personal delivery?"

Kara is already on her feet. "I'll take care of it. Thank you, Eve."

"It's--"

"I know," Kara assures her.

"You... know her?"

Kara sighs. "It's complicated."

She makes her way to the lobby, finding Lena Luthor leaning casually against the front desk, completely unbothered by the gazes peeking at her from between frosted sections of the glass walls.

"If you'd have told me you planned to bring it yourself, I would've given you a different address," Kara says drolly. Lena looks up at her with a puckish grin. "You're about to give the entire office an aneurysm."

"Sorry, not sorry." Entirely unapologetic, Lena straightens, pushing softly away from the desk to face Kara directly.

Kara folds her arms across her chest, unable to help the smile spreading across her own features. Lena lifts an eyebrow, retrieving Esme's phone from her back pocket to waggle it teasingly.

"Thank you...." Kara reaches for it, only for Lena to tilt it out of reach. Kara rolls her eyes. "What?"

"I'm... gonna be honest," Lena drags out, smirking. "I didn't come here with truly altruistic purposes."

Kara resettles her weight, cocking one hip. "This is becoming a pattern with you, Miss Luthor."

"I'm only human, you know." She taps Esme's phone on her chin. "And I'm not above taking a teenager's phone hostage, if it gets me a coffee with a gorgeous woman."

Bold. Entirely *too* bold. But Kara can't quite bring herself to mind.

"You have me at a disadvantage," she returns. "I really need that phone."

"Then a coffee with a charming lady seems to be in your very near future."

Kara rolls her eyes. "Let me grab my purse."

Lena waits patiently, and Kara doesn't bother pausing to explain a damn thing to anyone. It's none of their business, and right now she's a woman on a mission.

To get her goddaughter's phone.

And absolutely nothing else.

[delicatebarness]

but daddy i love him | chapter one

Summary: Your father begins to worry about your connection to Bucky, again under your twin's influence.

Warnings: This story contains themes of secrecy, forbidden romance, and familiar conflict. High School/Mob AU. - Also, a lot of what happens in this series will be done while the characters are underage, for example, alcohol and drug consumption.

Word Count: 1508

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A/N: I thought it was fitting that he still called her Sunshine. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

I Think He Knows/Safe and Sound: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @cjand10 | @armystay89 | @itvy5601 | @spider-mans-hoe | @buckys0whore | @wintrsoldrluvr | @mostlymarvelgirl | @abaker74 | @scott-loki-barnes | @buckys0whore | @all-will-be-well-love | @cjand10 | @barnesxstan | @danzer8705

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment

The marble floors of your family’s estate were cold against your feet as you made your way to your father’s office. The grandeur of the house, with the high ceilings and opulent decor, made it feel more like a fortress than a home, a constant heavy air of unease. 

As you stood before the massive oak door, you knocked softly before stepping inside. Sat behind his large mahogany desk, the weight of your father’s presence filled the room. His sharp eyes met yours, and he motioned for you to sit. 

“Morning, Daddy,” you greeted, forcing a sweet smile as you settled into the chair opposite him.

“Morning, Princess,” he replied, his voice gruff but affectionate. “I need to talk to you about some… concerns, Peter has come to me about.” 

Tilting your head, you feigned innocence. “Concerns? About what, Daddy?” 

“About you and James Barnes.” He leaned forward, his gaze penetrating. “He is convinced something is going on between you two.” 

Letting out a light laugh, you shook your head. “Petey is always so suspicious. Bucky is like another brother to me, you know that.” 

Your father’s eyes narrowed slightly. “He said he has been watching you two closely, says he’s seen things that make him think otherwise.” 

Leaning in, you played the sweet and innocent ‘daddy’s girl’ card. Battling your lashes slightly. “Daddy, you said no boys, so there are no boys. And, I’ve always done what you asked. Bucky’s just Steve’s friend, and someone who looks out for me because Steve asked him to. That’s all.” 

He wasn’t entirely convinced, however, his gaze softened nonetheless. “I need to be sure, Princess. Peter’s convinced there’s more to it.” 

Reaching across the desk, you placed your hand over him. “You’ve always trusted me, haven’t you? I’d never do anything to break that trust. You know how Peter is, Daddy, he just likes to stir up trouble.” 

The tension eased from his shoulder as he sighed. “I know. It’s just… I worry about you. This world isn’t kind, men aren’t kind, and I want to keep you safe.” 

“I know, Daddy,” you softly sighed, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “And I promise you, there’s nothing to worry about with Bucky.” 

Finally relenting, he nodded. “Alright. But, be careful. If I find out otherwise…” 

“You won’t,” you assured him with a bright smile. “I love you, Daddy.” 

“I love you too, Princess,” he said, his tone tender. “Now, go on. I don’t pay for that school just for you to be late.” 

Relieved, you left his office. Your heart raced as you made your way toward the front door. The encounter had been too close for comfort.

~

Back at school, the usual hum of student chatter filled the air as you navigated the hallways. Classes came and went by in a blur, your mind replayed the tense conversation with your father. The warning was clear: you needed to be more careful than ever.

You and Bucky managed to find a moment alone as lunch approached. The abandoned art room was your sanctuary during school hours, a place where Peter and his suspicions couldn’t find you. The door creaked slightly as you pushed it open, and Bucky slipped in behind you, locking it with a soft click.

Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, lifting you as his lips met yours in a desperate kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pressed against him, the intensity of the moment erasing all thoughts of caution. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer as if the space between you was unbearable.

The kiss grew more heated as he lay you down against one of the desks, his lips trailing down your neck, making your heart race. You tugged at his shirt, needing to feel him closer, the urgency between you both palpable. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk, and you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in.

Your breaths mingled, the room filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the soft rustle of clothes. You could feel his heart pounding as hard as yours, the need and desire between you both electric. His hand slid under your blouse, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Just as you were about to lose yourself completely in the moment, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. You both froze, reality crashing back in. With a reluctant sigh, Bucky pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours.

“It’s so hard to stay away from you,” Bucky whispered, his breath warm against your skin. His grip tightened around you for a moment before he let go, helping you off the desk. “Tonight is going to be difficult.” 

You both straightened your clothes. The air thickened with unspoken longing and the weight of the evening’s challenges. The charity gala, organized by your father, was an annual event attended by New York’s elite. Every year since you and Bucky started, it felt like a daunting obstacle course.

Your gaze never left his as he adjusted his tie with a sigh. “I know,” you murmured, your voice laced with frustration. “But we can’t avoid it. My father’s gala is not something we can skip.” 

He nodded, and you tried to steady your racing heart. “We’ll have to be extra careful,” he replied, his voice barely a whisper. He reached out, brushing his thumb just under your lip, fixing your messy lipstick. “I’ll keep my distance, no slipping up tonight.” 

You watched his jaw tense, his gaze flickering toward the door as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment. “At least… until we can find a moment alone.” 

~

As you descended the sweeping staircase, the soft glow of chandeliers reflected off your gown. The delicate fabric trailed behind you like a waterfall of midnight blue silk, it whispered against the marble flooring. Voices and laughter filled the ballroom as you entered. The air was thick with the scent of roses and the symphony of polite greetings, the tinkling of glasses, and the soft music from the orchestra. 

Your gaze swept around the room, searching for Bucky amidst the sea of familiar faces. Standing near the bar, you found him, flanked by a few of your father’s associates. His posture was relaxed, a composed expression and drink in hand.

“Looking stunning tonight, Sunshine,” Bucky remarked quietly as you approached, his eyes flashed with admiration before he sipped his drink, masking his emotions with practiced ease. 

“Thank you,” you replied with a smirk, a rush of warmth coursing through you as he averted his gaze. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.” 

Bucky chuckled, glancing over at Steve and Peter who were engrossed in conversation with another guest. “Trying to blend in,” he murmured, shifting on his feet as you called over the bartender. “It’s tricky when your father’s watching.” 

You nodded knowingly, familial expectations loomed over moments like these. “Peter’s in his head, again,” you sighed, scanning the room discreetly as the bartender placed your drink down. “We’ll find a moment, though.” As you took a sip of your drink, you sent Bucky a wink as you began walking away, mingling with the other guests. 

~

Later in the evening, the music from the orchestra swelled and the dance floor filled with couples, you stood alone near the edge of the room, nursing a drink. Bucky approached, his steps purposeful yet discreet. 

“I spoke to your father,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I asked if I could have the honor of a dance with you.”

Your heart skipping a beat at his words. “And… what did he say?”

A small, almost mischievous smile tugged at his lips. “He agreed, but… only for one song, and he’s keeping an eye on us.” 

Glancing across the room, a smile spread across your lips as you spotted your father watching from a distance. His gaze was stern and protective. “Of course he is,” you murmured, amusement and exasperation in your tone. 

Bucky extended his hand towards you. “May I have our annual, one song, Sunshine?” he asked, genuine warmth filling his voice.

You nodded, placing your hand in his, a spark of electricity coursing through you from the contact. He led you onto the dance floor.

As you swayed to the music, Bucky’s hand lay firmly on your waist. Despite the watchful eyes of your father, brothers, and the guests, the connect between you two was undeniable. 

“You’re breathtaking,” You whispered, your grip tightening on his shoulders. “It’s touture having to pretend we’re just friends.” 

“I know,” he whispered back, his lips close to your ear. “One day we won’t need to.” he promised softly. 

The dance ended too soon, and as you pulled away, your father’s gaze burned into you. Bucky gave your hand a final, lingering squeeze before letting go. With that, you returned to the swirl of social interactions. Your heart raced knowing that despite the obstacles, your bond was unbreakable.

---

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[mushyblushyredhead]

Cure For a Bad Day—MCU

No thots. Just a silly fluffy Irondad thought I had to turn into a story. :3 If you don’t like, don’t read. But if you’re here for Irondad fluff or just fluffy Marvel tickles, then come on in! OvO

Word Count: 5,000

Summary: After a rough week of school mishaps, Peter starts to doubt his future at being a good student and even being Spider-Man. It’s up to Tony Stark to remind Peter he’s still worth it, and bring back his mentor’s favorite smile. (This is a tickle fic duh, purely platonic)

Lee! Peter

Ler! Tony

If there was one thing Peter Parker was good at, was multitasking. How many other teens could juggle the responsibilities of high school while fighting crime almost every night in the not-so-friendly-neighborhood, and still manage to finish their homework on time for the next day?

Somehow he was able to do both.

But like any other student, he had his challenges. Like today, for example. Peter was in the middle of trying to finish a lab report essay for chemistry class. He was pretty stressed out, as he hadn’t had so much time to work on it for the past three weeks stopping midnight crimes and shenanigans almost four nights a week.

Now, here he was, hunched over at his desk, typing away at his laptop attempting to finish his lab report that was due tomorrow. He was mid-paragraph, stuck on page three out of the required five.

Normally, Peter would rack his science loving brain and throw something together quick, but tonight was different. He was having trouble figuring out more words and what to say in the report.

His eyes were starting to hurt from staring at his computer screen so long. His spine ached from being hunched over like a shrimp in his chair for hours. And his stomach growled; he had skipped dinner and was insistent with himself that he could have time to eat after he got his report done.

He looked at his bedside clock. 10:37pm. Oh come on! I’ll have to go to bed soon and I’m not even close to being done.

Peter sighed. Sometimes, his full time job being Spider-Man could really put a dent into his student life.

There was a knock at his door. “Peter? You alright?” the soft voice of his Aunt asked.

“I’m okay, Aunt May,” Peter stifled a yawn. “Just finishing up homework.”

“You said you were finishing up two hours ago.”

“Well this time, I mean it. I am almost done.”

“Alright if I come in?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

The sight of her tired, stressed, hunched over nephew saddened May. “Oh, Peter, you’ve been at that science report of yours all afternoon. Why not call it a night and get some rest?”

“I can’t,” Peter’s eyes stayed glued to his screen. The blinking curser that sat there unmoving for hours seemed to mock him. “I have to finish this tonight. This thing is worth a lot of my grade this semester.”

“Hmm, okay how about this?” May offered. “I’ll let you knock off school tomorrow, and send a note to your teachers that you’re out sick. It’ll give you an extra day to finish your report.” Her lips ruled into a soft grin. “Maybe after that, you and I can head off to the mall and buy you some more of those Squishables things you secretly like.”

Normally, Peter would laugh and jokingly say what a bad influence she was letting him cut school like that. But tonight, he didn’t even crack a smile. “No thanks. I’ll get this done before I go to sleep. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Aunt May saw that tonight would be one of those nights where Peter wouldn’t budge out of his zombie induced state. So she decided to let him be. “Alright then,” she sighed. “Just please don’t stay up past midnight. I don’t want to get another phone call saying you slept through class and other kids decided to draw on your face.”

“Yeah, will do.”

And with that, she shut the door.

Peter rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “C’mon…c’mon…gotta finish. Ugh! Why can’t I finish?” The teen was just about to give up and call it quits when the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood out on end. His Spidey tingle was going off!

Despite feeling achy and sluggish, he quickly stood up and tore off his clothes, slipping into his Spider-Man costume. He pulled his mask over his face and was about to jump out the window when he stopped himself.

Aunt May might come back to check if I really did go to sleep. Dang it! Ok uhh…oh wait! That’ll work!

Peter grabbed some day old clothes off the floor and shoved them under his blanket, pushing them into a sort of Peter-shaped lump. Hopefully, if his aunt came to check on him she wouldn’t look too closely.

Grabbing his phone, he hopped off the windowsill and swung out into the night.

By the time Peter managed to sneak back into his room through the window, he was exhausted. He felt like he was about to pass out as soon as he stepped into his bedroom.

He flopped onto his bed, lifting his Spidey mask off his sweaty face. He didn’t have the energy to take off his costume just yet. He was so tired.

He had stopped a home break-in coordinated by three criminals. Normally, a crime like a break-in was child’s play to Peter. But after spending the whole week fighting off crime and running on four hours of sleep, and topped with the stress of his recent assignment, Spider-Man suddenly didn’t have the energy to do a lot of fighting tonight.

His web-shooting was uncoordinated, one punch nearly knocked him out, and he appeared to be wobbly when he landed.

Even the criminals seemed to noticed how he wasn’t putting much of a fight, and taunted him while having their weapons pointed at the sleepy hero.

Peter barely managed to stop those three criminals, and earned himself a bruise on his jaw and knee. So by the time the boy made it home, the clock read 1:55am.

Peter wanted to scream in frustration. Well there goes another sleepless night, he thought as he quietly stripped himself out of his Spidey suit and grabbed a T-shirt from his floor pile.

He cringed as his brain calculated the few hours of sleep he would be getting again.

The next day at school turned out to be so much worse. First, Peter was late to his first class due to him sleeping through his many alarms he set for that morning. Next, he ended up forgetting his lunch—and even emergency lunch money—from rushing to get ready earlier. And then, as if that wasn’t enough to put him in a bad mood, he completely forgot about his lab report.

His stomach churned as he heard the teacher announce for everyone to hand in their reports to the front.

“Peter?” The voice of his best friend made him whip around.

“What is it, Ned?”

“What’s up with you?” Ned asked in a hushed whisper. “You look like you haven’t slept in a month, and you’re acting way jittery than normal.” Ned’s eyes widened. “Is it the spider sense?! Is there danger somewhere right now? Do you need me to come up with an excuse so you can get out of here?”

Peter could barely register his friend’s overlapping questions. “No, Ned, I don’t need anything. And it’s not that. I just…” he sighed, burying his face into his sweater covered arms. “Trouble in the neighborhood late at night, and I completely forgot to finish my lab report.”

“What?!” Ned whisper-shouted. “Y’know normally I’d scold you like your aunt does, but you look like you’ve been through enough already.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Need me to make up some excuse? Save your skin at least a little?”

Peter shook his head miserably. “No point. I’m screwed enough as is here. Total failure.”

“Are you su—“

Their conversation was interrupted by the teacher snapping at them. “Parker? Your report, please.”

Uneasiness filled Peter’s stomach again. It felt borderline nauseous. He slowly walked up to the front desk. “I uh…don’t really have it physically with me right now.” He pointed towards his lab table. “I-It’s on my laptop.”

“Trouble printing it out?” The teacher asked.

“Something like that.” Peter could feel his cheeks growing warm.

The teacher sighed with a head shake. “Well then if you email it to me in the next three minutes, I’ll still give you credit. But next time, Peter, make sure you are able to find a reliable printing source ahead of time when you’re printing your reports. Don’t just try to print them last minute, that’s when these incidents happen.”

“Yes, of course.” Peter swallowed dryly as he shuffled back to his table. His fingers trembled as he opened his laptop, the unfinished pages of his lab report staring back at him. It felt like a punch to the gut. Well…something is better than nothing, right?

After school, the poor exhausted teen wanted nothing more than to go home, face plant onto his bed, and hope his mattress would swallow him up.

He was surprised to see a text message from Happy on his phone screen. Meet at the Avenger’s facility right after school. Your ride is waiting for you out front. New missions are heading your way. :) -Happy

New mission? That perked Peter up a little. At least he could forget about school for the weekend. Sulking in his room would have to wait. Right now, he was curious as to what sort of new mission awaited him at the Avengers’ headquarters!

The car trip didn’t take so much time. It did, however, leave the boy to replay the events that had just happened prior. He slumped in his seat. Suddenly, a new mission with the Avengers didn’t seem to excite him anymore.

Why can’t I just be more responsible? Peter bitterly asked himself. The other Avengers are able to juggle their normal lives and jobs and still manage to fight bad guys all without breaking a sweat. Heck, even Mr. Stark can do it. So why can’t I? *sigh* Am I really that bad of a student? What’s my future going to look like if I can’t even make it through high school?

Ugh! Why is your entire self worth and future determined by one stupid grade?!

Upon arrival, Peter didn’t seem as starry-eyed or ecstatic anymore. At least, that was the noticeable vibe Tony Stark noticed with his young mentee. He, in fact, looked in bad shape. Dark rings circled under his eyes, he looked disheveled like he had been sleeping under a bridge the whole week, and he seemed very anxious. Not the typical anxious-excitement Peter normally projected whenever he heard any mention of a potential new mission.

Tony wrapped an arm around the silently depressed teen. “So how goes it, kid? Survived another week of school?”

Peter scoffed. “Just barely.”

“I hear ya. But hey, cheer up. It looks like a certain web-slinging hero will be tagging along on more serious world-saving missions with the rest of us. Now how’s that upgrade for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

The boy merely shrugged. “I guess it could be good for my rep. So long as I don’t screw anything up again.”

“Hey, look. You just made a couple mistakes, underoos. It happens to all of us when we’re starting out as heroes. But this a fresh start; a chance to really show the others and the world that your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man protects more than just the neighborhood and supermarkets. He protects the world, too.” He gave Peter’s shoulder a shake.

“Okay,” Peter said with a small sigh. Oh how he wished he could get back to sulking in his room right about now.

Tony started to grow more worried about his mentee that afternoon. He assumed the kid had a bad day at school or was simply tired after a long week, but this seemed much worse.

Peter didn’t go on mini gush-rants about random things. He didn’t spit out any science jokes or puns. He didn’t even quote any old movies. Peter Parker always quoted his vintage iconic quips and lines. It was like his second vocabulary—first vocabulary being talking in only Star Wars lines.

Something was really wrong. And Stark was not going to wait around any longer to find out.

When Tony finally found Peter, he was sitting upside down from the corner of the ceiling, the hood of his sweater almost covering his face, earbuds in and mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Peter?”

Said teen took his earbuds out. His gaze softened when he met eyes with his mentor. “Oh, hey Mr. Stark. What brings you here?”

“That’s just what I want to ask you, kid. What are you doing up there by yourself?”

Peter shrugged. “Bored.”

“Bored?! In the freakin’ Avengers’ facility?”

“Well, sorry. Guess I’m just a little too tired today.”

He’s trying to avoid my question, Tony thought. “A better question would be, why have you been moping around since you got here? Happy even said that you were so quiet in the car ride here. No offense, kid, but you’re never the quiet type. Especially around Happy. So what gives?”

The boy averted his game. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just tired like I said. Y’know, keeping the neighborhood safe almost every night really drains your energy.”

“Cut the charades, kid,” Tony said firmly. “I wanna know what’s up with you. I’ve known you long enough to know that even with your nighttime gig as Spider-Man, you somehow always have enough energy to set Happy’s blood pressure spiraling, and annoy the rest of the Avengers with your weird vine refreshes and those picture things you call memes.”

Peter averted his gaze. How could he tell his mentor and biggest idol all the crappy events that took place that week? It wasn’t like it was a serious topic. It was just his own failure to be responsible.

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly.”

“Hmm…let me guess. Trouble at school?”

Peter looked up.” Maybe?��

“Alright, give me names here. A description of the punk. Who’s organs do I have to obliterate?”

“What? No, no, no, it’s not like that, Mr. Stark,” Peter quickly objected. “It’s just…rough days at school is all. And my student life.”

“I see. Want to come down from there and talk about it? I’ll have Happy make us some hot chocolate.”

“Alright.”

The warm hot chocolate was very comforting. After the long harsh week of events, a hot comforting drink was just what Peter needed. And it helped ease the hesitance he had earlier so he was able to come clean about what had happened.

“Wow,” Tony said, finally breaking the silence. “It sounds like the week really treated you terribly.”

“Tell me about it.” Peter fixed his gaze on his cup.

“Hey, listen, kid. You just had a bad week. Things will get better. You gotta believe that.”

The teen hero frowned. “How do you know I won’t keep failing? I’ve been screwing up nonstop this entire week. And even when I try to do better, everything always turns out worse. It’s like the universe hates me because I’m Spider-Man.”

Before Tony could respond, Peter kept talking. “And its so dumb, too. This whole situation. I’m sitting here whining about something that could’ve been avoidable if I had been a more responsible student. There’s no one to blame but me. And look at you, Mr. Stark. If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t be a failing student just because you’re Ironman. I just want to do better, but I don’t feel like I can. And I know the school system doesn’t believe I can either.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Tony protested. “You’re a brilliant kid, Peter. Yes, you’re going to hit roadblocks along the way with your full time gig as Spider-Man and as a full time student, but you’re going to be fine. You just need a little encouragement. When you’re out there saving the neighborhood and face-to-face with an enemy that makes you feel like it’s hopeless, I’ve noticed that you never back down. No matter how difficult it is. This right here isn’t any different.

And if the crappy school system that’s been putting too much pressure on their students and treating them like garbage doesn’t believe in you, I do. I believe you can do it, Peter. You’re so much stronger than you think you are.”

Peter almost wanted to tear up at the words his mentor was telling him. Damn, he really was good at this inspirational uplifting speech thing. Maybe even better than Captain America.

He couldn’t stop the tears, though. He had been feeling so emotional this entire week and after hearing Tony freakin’ Stark rant about how he was worth it despite everything he was feeling, Peter really needed to let some tears out.

Seeing the boy’s eyes fill with tears made Tony panic. Had he made the kid feel worse with his words? “Oh god, are you alright? Did i go too far with that?”

Peter let out a breathy laugh. “No, no, you’re good.” He sniffed, and wiped his tears with his sweater sleeve. “Sorry I got emotional back there. Your uplifting speech just got me teary-eyed. Thanks, Mr. Stark. I guess I really needed to hear that.”

Tony gave the teen’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Anytime, kiddo. Glad I could help. Now, I do want to help out with your school problem a little so you’re not feeling traumatized Monday morning.”

The boy tilted his head like a curious puppy. “Huh? What do you mean help out?”

“Well I sort of did a little research on what your next assignments for the week are going to be on for your classes. And I took the liberty to have FRIDAY complete next week’s assignments so you’ll have the entire week off to not worry about your homework.”

“You…wait, are you saying that you had FRIDAY hack into my teachers’ lesson plans and did all my homework for me?!”

Tony nodded, stirring his half drunk mug with a spoon. “Yup. Your homework’s done with all the right answers so it’ll guarantee to bring your grades back up to an A+.” He paused. “Well, an A- to make it seem like you did it.”

Peter didn’t know if he should feel grateful or disbelief. “I-I…thank you? I guess?”

Tony smirked. “What, that’s it? I do you a favor here so you can have the week off. You can have more time to focus on your web-slinging career, or use the extra time to take a nap in home room, or stare at girls more between classes.”

Peter blushed at that last comment. “Okay, fine. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I really appreciate it.” For the first time that week, Peter smiled. A genuine warm smile. Then his face melted to concern. “Wait…do you think that it’s cheating?”

“Uhh….nah,” Tony assured him with a wave of his hand. “Hey, as long as it gets you the grades you deserve. Besides, you aren’t even going to use 90% of the crap they teach you in school. You’re gonna forget it immediately anyways.”

Peter giggled, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Oh my god, Mr. Stark. You’re just as a bad influence as May.”

“Good! Maybe you can learn something here about all the shortcuts and loopholes to high school.”

“There are noho loopholes or shortcuhuhuts to high school!”

“Hell yeah there are! How do you think I got to where I am today?” Tony gestured to himself. “You think all of this happened by being a full time student? No way. High school did nothing to help me be who I am today. All it did was give me anxiety, student debt, and unrealistic expectations on what I needed to thrive in the real world. Oh yeah, high school teaches you nothing on how to adult or pay your bills. But hey, at least they teach you that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, right?”

Peter could not stop his giggles anymore. His giggles turned to laughter, and even while trying to muffle them through his sleeves, Tony could see the corner of his smile and the blush that dusted his cheeks.

It was always so easy to make the kid laugh, and Tony always liked to take advantage of it every time.

“Y-You’re terrihihible, Mr. Stark!” Peter said through his bright laughter. “A bahahad influence! Y-You’re even worse thahahn Loki!”

“Excuuuuse me?!” Tony pretended to be offended. He sat up, scraping the chair back, which made Peter’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Wait, no!” Peter surprised Tony by flipping onto the ceiling. “Don’t—Don’t tickle me, Mr. Stark!” Peter had had enough recent experience knowing what that look meant every time Tony got up from his seat. Having his own mentor know of his one dreaded weakness—the fact that he was insanely ticklish—and using that to mess with him anytime he got depressed or a little too snarky always flustered him to bits.

Tony grinned up at the spider teen on the ceiling. “Huh? Tickle you? Now why on earth would I do that? Oh right, because your ticklishness got dialed up to eleven from the spider bite. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Peter’s blush darkened. “S-Stop saying that so casually! I now what you’re up to!”

“Hey, I’m not up to anything. And honestly, I wasn’t going to tickle you.” A sinister smirk spread across his mentor’s face. “But since that was the first thought that crossed your mind…”

Peter’s tummy did fluttery flip flops. “Oh c’mon!! Mr. Stark nohoho! Dohohon’t you dare!”

“Too late. FRIDAY, a little help?”

“Yep. On it.”

The poor flustered teen squealed in alarm as one of Tony’s Ironman suits came flying over to him, trying to pry him off the ceiling. It was surprisingly easy, as Peter was already too giggly and flustered to concentrate on his sticking to the ceiling.

With Peter off the ceiling, he was dumped ungracefully onto the floor in front of Tony where the Iron suit immediately grabbed and pinned the kid’s wrists above his head.

“What the—FRIDAY you traitohohor!” Peter squawked. He pulled on his wrists, internally pouting that his spider strength wasn’t working in that moment.

“Hey now, don’t you insult FRIDAY,” Tony playfully scolded with a poke to the boy’s stomach. Peter squeaked at the touch. “We’re just here to help you out. I know how rough it’s been with school lately, and I don’t want to lose my underoos just because of that. You’ve been real upset ever since you got here and I know you’ve been upset all week. So no more of that now. You should know the Avengers’ facility is a no-sadness zone!”

And with that said, Tony right away scribbled both hands into his kid’s belly, making Peter screech.

“EeeAAAHAAaahahaaa! HeHEHE—Heyyyy! No faHAHAhahair!” Peter thrashed and kicked, instinctively trying to pull his arms down to no avail. “Mr. Stahahark! Nohoho pleasHEEAheeheehease!”

“Sorry, no can do, kiddo,” Tony casually answered over his mentee’s squeaky laughter. “I haven’t seen my underoos’ favorite smile in forever so I’m making up for lost time!”

“B-But nohohot like tha—HAAAHA! Heheheyyy!” Peter arched his back as Tony’s fingers crept up to his ribs. His blush now spread to the tips of his ears. He was cursing internally at how his Spidey strength was suddenly no longer there as he was laughing like a maniac.

Any other intense situation, Spider-Man would be able to easily get himself out of, but this was different. The ticklish sensations buzzing throughout his nervous system plus all his laughing was sapping any strength he had left, including his spider strength.

As Tony let his fingers inch closer to the teen’s underarms, he was playfully shocked when Peter tried to bite him. He pulled his hands back with a gasp.

“Whoa! What the heck was that?! What are you, a biting tarantula now?”

“You were getting too close to my armpits!” Peter shot back.

“Ohhhh I see.” Tony flashed him an evil grin that reminded Peter of that creepy, murderous knife-hiding doll from that 80s movie that always came back from the dead. “That’s your death spot, isn’t it?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his blush darkening. “N-No..?”

“Wrong answer.”

“AAAAAAHHERRHWHRHFEAAHAAAAAHAAAHA!! No Mr. Stahahahark!! NAAAHAHAHAO!!” Peter squirmed like a fish out of water, his body instinctively trying to twist away from Tony’s evil scribbling fingers. But no matter which way he turned, it didn’t help much. Tony’s fingers seemed glued to his hollows.

“EEEEAAAAHEHEEHHAAAA!! M-MR STAHAHARK!! IT��IHIHIT REALLY TIHIHAHAHA TIHIHICKLES BAAAAHAHAHD!!”

“That’s the point, kiddo! It’s more—whoa! You are just extra kicky today, aren’t you? FRIDAY, a little help here?”

“NOOOHOHOHO!”

Tony and FRIDAY had switched places; FRIDAY grabbing ahold of Peter’s flailing legs while Tony grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand. Even as the two switched places, Tony couldn’t help but notice how Peter wasn’t putting up a fight to get away. He could’ve easily gotten up and bolted the second they let go of his limbs, or curl up with his arms wrapped around his torso so they couldn’t bring his arms up anymore, but he just laid there with a silly smile and blushy cheeks. Almost as if he secretly wanted this to keep going.

Tony had to ask the billion dollar question. “Y’know Pete, despite all your complaints, you’re not even putting up a fight to stop me or FRIDAY. Could it be because…you actually like this? You like getting tickled?”

Peter fell silent. He looked anywhere but his mentor’s eyes. He opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was stutters and keyboard smashes.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Really? Look, I’m barely holding down your arms here and you’re not even trying to get away!” Peter’s face felt like was on fire now. “You know you can easily break out of my grip—even FRIDAY’s—and hightail it outta here, buuuut…I’m starting to think you don’t want to. Am I right or what?”

“I-I…” was all that came out of Peter’s mouth. Finally, he sighed and locked eyes with his mentor. His flustered, trembling lip suddenly curled into a crap-eating grin. With a defiant smirk, Peter stuck his tongue out. “Bite me, old man!”

Tony’s mouth formed a perfect O. Oh the kid was so asking for it! Recovering in a millisecond, Tony cracked his knuckled for dramatic effect. “That’s it! You’re finished, kid! You know I’m sensitive about my age!”

Peter actually had the nerve to stick his tongue out at him again.

Okay, so maybe truthfully he didn’t want this playful attack to cease. It was a great stress reliever after the rough week he endured. And if Peter wanted to dig a little deeper into it, while he was being tickled to pieces and screeching at frequencies only dogs should hear, he couldn’t think of all the bad things that had happened—his lab report incident, academic pressure, or even any general insecurities he had as Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

All he could think about in the heat of the moment was the playful ticklish feeling, the waves of dopamine, and the pure fun bonding vibe. So despite all the squealing and squirming, Peter was genuinely having fun. He’d be bummed if Tony stopped so soon. So he had to provoke his mentor some more to keep the fun going.

And that’s just what he did.

Oh, but if only FRIDAY hadn’t been traitorous enough to actually look up other sorts of tickling methods and suggest them to Tony to use against Peter.

“W-Wait! Wahahahit!! NonononoAAAAAAHAHAHEEHEHAHAAAA!! EEEEEHHAAAHAEHE!! THAT FEEHEEHEEHEELS AHAHA—AWFUFUFUL!! *snort* NAAAAAAHEHEAAHAAAAHAHAAA!!”

“Did you just snort, kid?!”

“N-Nohoho!! Shuhuhut uhuhup!! AAAAH! Waitwaitwait!! I tahahahake it baHAAAAAAHAHAAAAA!!”

Better hope that none of the Avengers nor his enemies finds out about Spider-Man’s adorable little weakness.

[bravetimetravellingaussie]

And it feels like home

Chapter 4

Summary: Wade and Peter have a chat

Warnings: not even any bad language in this one, possible spoilers for no way home though

By the time they reached the roof, Peter's chest was heaving. It felt like he was trying to catch his breath while a waterfall was plummeting down on him.

Deadpool was saying something. Everything was drowned out by the thundering noise inside Peter's head.

"Petey!" Deadpool held Peter by the shoulders and shook him slightly.

Peter looked up at him and saw concern in the creases of his face.

"Petey, you need to try breathe, okay? It's safe to take your mask off up here if you want."

Peter walked over to the edge of the roof and stood there. His breathing calmed a little. Everything was a mess, but if there's one thing that remained, it's that Peter was good at his job.

Deadpool barely had a chance to react before he was dangling off the edge of the roof by a thread.

"I. Want. Answers." Peter let the thread drop a little and deadpool let out a small scream.

"Petey, you've got this all wrong kid, I'm on your side! Well, okay, maybe you wouldn't really agree with my methods, what with me being an r-rated hero slash antihero, but I'm one of the good guys! I'm not planning on telling anyone who you are. I mean the whole, me knowing who you are thing, I see now that that's a bit of an invasion of your privacy, although no invasion of privacy was needed for me to know, you know I just know things sometimes that others don't. You know in the comics we're a lot alike, you also speak to the guys on the other side of the screen, but the MCU decided to make you a bit less comic-booky, I don't know why really, but hey if you want I can tell you who I am, I'll answer any questions you have you don't need to dangle me off a building. I will say if you drop me you should probably get out of here though, my boyfriend wouldn't hurt a kid but he gets scary when he's angry. I'm Wade Winston Wilson by the way, quick story of my life: I was military, then mercenary, then very sketchy science experiment, and now I'm trying my best to be a hero."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

Wade hesitated. Even as he dangled so many stories above the ground, somehow he still looked more concerned for Peter than he did for himself.

"The answer is you can't trust me. You can't trust anyone right now. But everyone needs people. Door's always open."

Peter felt that awful tearing inside, the need to keep everyone at arms length battling it out with the desire to let someone, anyone, get close.

Peter sighed and started pulling Wade up onto the roof.

"You won't regret this, Petey."

"No, I won't." Peter shot webs at Wade till he was certain he wouldn't be able to get away.

"The offer still stands! Indefinitely!"

Jumping from one roof to the next, Peter slowly made his way to his old high school. He could manage without his webs but it was slow going. Everything was buzzing before but now he couldn't find the energy within to care. There was a rather dark and morbid part of Peter that wondered whether he was glad or not that the man couldn't be killed. Glad. He was glad. Peter focused on that thought.

As the world darkened for him, he found his thoughts sometimes darkened too. But maybe that was a part of growing up. Maybe it was a part of what it meant to be a hero, to keep going and keep helping and keep trying even when everything around you and inside you was dark.

Lost in thought, Peter managed to find his way without even noticing he had reached his destination.

Every time he came here was the same, pain and joy and sorrow and wonder all mushed together in a messy package. Part of him wanted to close this door forever. But another part relished these moments. Memories are fallible, and especially hard to trust when there is no one alive to share them with. Coming back here made him feel a little more sane. It was comforting, to know without a doubt that it was all here, that it was all real, just as it had been. The place he lived now was a hollow box, but this was home. Eerily empty but warmed by the phantoms of memory.

Peter made his way to the science lab and got to work.

[tayas-words]

Just like you

Remus Lupin x OC

So I don’t wanna leave my marauders/harry Potter fans waiting too long so I’m gonna be posting some stories I wrote years ago and published on Wattpad, they aren’t proof read or anything and I was like 12 when I wrote them and I’m 18 now so it’s been awhile

    *Emilie's point of view*

"Alright Students, don't forget to do you're homework" Professor McGonagall reminded everyone just as the bell rang.

Since it was Friday afternoon everyone had the rest of the day off, So I headed down to the hospital wing to help Madam Pomfrey like I do every Friday afternoon ( and whenever I'm free of course ).

I open the door to the Hospital wing while putting my long midnight blue hair into a high ponytail.

"Morning, Madam Pomfrey." I said cheerfully as I entered the room.

"Good morning, Miss Emilie." Madam Pomfrey replied with a smile as she looked up from the patient she was currently tending too.

I started my rounds, such as changing Isabelle's bandages, getting Jackson's painkillers, bringing them food, ect .Everything was calm, until four familiar boys burst into the Hospital wing looking rather injured, Madam Pomfrey and I rushed over to them.

As I was tending to Sirius Black the schools play-boy, who pretty funny and nice once you get to know him along with James Potter and Peter Pettigrew who were both very nice, Peter was very shy but pretty sweet once you got to know him, James was very nice but can also be very arrangent, he also has a very big and obvious crush on my best friend Lily Evans.

James and Peter were waiting for Sirius. Once I was done treating to Sirius to Sirius who was jokingly flirting with me whilst in the pain of me cleaning his wounds, when I was done I rushed over to Madam Pomfrey to see if I can help her with Remus who I just so happen to have a not so little crush on. Madam Pomfrey left me to tend to Remus's deep cuts,gashes and bruises without telling me what had happened to him and how to treat him.

'How in the name of Godrick Gryffindor am I suppose to treat him when I don't even know what happened!!' I thought to myself mentally.

I walk over to the three marauders who were missing the smart one of the group aka Remus John Lupin.

I ask them what happened to him and they just gave me extremely dumb answers.

"We told you Emilie, he fell out of window and we all got cut from the glass!!!" Sirius yelled at me.

"He's not that stupid Sirius!!" I yelled back.

"I need to know what happened so I can treat him properly!! Madam Pomfrey told me to look after Remus, so tell me what happened or those nasty cuts on Remus's body will get badly infected!!" I yelled before any of them could reply.

                 *after 10 minutes of yelling*

"What is going on here, there's a Patient who needs to be looked at Miss Emilie." Madam Pomfrey said as Sirius and I stopped yelling.

"It's nothing Madam, I’m sorry, I can handle it, I just need to know what happened to Remus so I can treat him properly." I said calmly.

Madam Pomfrey sighs, she looks behind me at the three boys, I turn to look at them and they were looking at her silently begging her not to say, but she ignored it and pulled me into another room to tell me.

"...Mr.Lupin...is a werewolf,he was bitten when he was a young boy, and the only ones who know are his parents, his professor, and Mr.Black, Mr.Potter,and Mr,Pettigrew." Madam Pomfrey said.

I nodded and walked out of the room, to get the things I would need to treat Remus,Madam Pomfrey went to tell the boys I now knew what he was and not to worry saying that I wouldn't tell anyone.

"Hi Remus,sorry for the long wait I didn't know how to treat you , but Madam Pomfrey told m-" I was cut off by Remus's Horrified stare

"P-please don'-" I cut him off saying I wouldn't tell anyone.

"W-Why, normally if anyone finds out how much of a monster I am they would run away yelling, screaming and/or telling everyone" Remus said stuttering.

"Because I'm like you Remus." I whispered, smiling at him.

[bilightningwhumper]

@ailesswhumptober 2024- Day 17

Trauma Thursday: Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

<<Previous . My AI-less Whumptober 2024 Masterlist . Next>>

Shadow of a Shield (Jamie's story) Masterlist --- SoaS Series Masterlist

Summary:

Excerpt for "Shadow of a Shield" (Jamie's story) The Halloween Dance has Jamie making new discoveries...

Notes:

Characters: Jamie- Steve and Peggy's daughter Ana- Jamie's best friend Simon- Jaime, Ana, and Will's mutual friend Steve Rogers Will (mentioned)- Bucky and Nat's son Peter Parker (mentioned) Harley Keener (mentioned) Mare (mentioned)- Bucky and Natasha's daughter, Will's twin Becca (mentioned)- Steve and Bucky's daughter Theo (mentioned)- Becca's partner

Ao3 link

Word count: 626

Jamie PoV

Squirming in her chair, Jamie just wanted to go home. If it wasn't for Ana and Simon persuading her to come to this dance, she'd be curled up in her blankets in her nice quiet and dark room right now.

But she also didn't want to miss out on high school experiences anymore. After all, it was their senior year now, as everyone kept pointing out. She didn't have a lot of chances left to join in with. So she stuck through it. The noises. The lights. And the people.

Other kids kept glancing her way, whispering behind hands, though they didn't know she could hear them no matter how quiet they spoke. Yet another reason she wished she didn't have enhanced senses. Why couldn't everyone just let the stupid picture and the punch go already?

Sighing, she fiddled with her drink. The other two still weren't back from the snack table yet. What was taking them so long?

She glanced around, trying to find them without getting up to search. It took a minute, but she finally saw them across the room. Not far from the snack table, but they didn't seem concerned about that.

They were laughing with each other. Even from far away, Jamie could see Ana was blushing as she pushed Simon for something he said. He responded by laughing and kissing the top of her head before leaning close and saying something else. Neither looked like they were in a hurry to get back.

Jamie's heart sank. Of course. They'd been friends forever, long before Jamie had joined the picture. Each of them had asked her to be there as support so they could each ask their respective crushes out tonight. Neither had told her a name. But... it was clear now. How had she been so oblivious?

Getting up, she turned on her heel, leaving the gym, leaving the gossip, leaving the sight of her two best friends falling in love. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled out her phone and called her dad as she got to the front of the school.

Steve picked up immediately. "Hey, is everything okay?"

"I want to go home," she said, voice thick. "I don't feel good."

Her mind was too far away to concentrate on whatever he said to whoever was with him. As she was wiping away tears that had started to build up, he spoke to her again. "We'll be there soon. Just hang in there, hun."

"Thanks." she mumbled before hanging up the phone.

Ending up on the front stairs, she sat down, huddled near the railing in the shadows. The night breeze pierced through her costume and she realized she'd left her coat behind. But she didn't want to go back. If she went back, things became real and she couldn't show them her hurt yet. Not now, especially not to Ana. Halfheartedly heating herself, she stared into the road, waiting for Steve to get there.

First Becca with Theo. And now Will was falling for Peter and Harley. Maybe she and Mare could be spinsters together.

Tucking her legs to her chest, she rested her head on her knees, trying to keep the tears and sniffling at bay. It was so stupid of her to think she and Ana could be something more. She probably didn't even like girls like Jamie had started to think maybe she had a chance. Clearly she'd been misreading everything recently and Ana had just been trying to get courage to admit her feelings for Simon.

She just needed to bury her heart, bury her feelings. As long as they could still be friends, that would be enough. A broken heart would not change anything, not if she could help it...

SoaS Taglist:

No one so far

[asexxxualerotica]

The Spectacular Void-Spider: Origins

[Earth-765] [Year: 2010]

???: [[Alright, let's do this one more time.]]

[A series of comic books drop onto the screen, showing different versions of Spider-Man and other Spider-Persons throughout the Spider-verse, before finally landing on one with a Spider in an all-black, almost wispy-looking suit]

???: [[I'm sure, by now, you've heard this all before—or, at least, most of it all before. A simple dorky nerd named Peter Parker gets bit by a radioactive spider that gifts him the physical attributes and preternatural perception skills of a spider, turning him into the new friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.]]

[Comic flips open to show an unassuming boy labeled Peter Parker going to school, hanging with friends, going to an internship—and getting bitten by a spider. The image then sharp cuts to the shadowy Spider-Man from the cover, dodging bullets, stopping a runaway tram, and helping a kid get their cat out of a tree.]

???: [[And, yeah, that's pretty much the same story here...except—]]

[Suddenly, the scenes of this Spider-Man play back in reverse, back to the moment before the spider bite, and it freezes.]

???: [[That isn't me.]]

[Time restarts, and the spider bites Peter Parker's hand.]

Peter: "Yowch!! Ow, dammit!" [swats his hand, killing the spider]

Dr. Connors: [looks up from his paperwork and quickly rushes over, concerned] "Peter! What was that?"

Peter: "Oh, Dr. Connors—I think I got bit?"

Dr. Connors: "You got—oh no." [quickly looks to the spider and turns it over with a pen, before breathing a sigh of relief] "Oh, thank god—it's not one of the test ones."

Peter: [still hurting, but now curious] "Test ones? What are you talking about?"

Dr. Connors: [turns and fetches a first aid box, rummaging around for a bit] "I've been studying the effects of radiation on various animals and spiders are the next on the docket, but they have some harrowing side-effects—thankfully, you won't have to worry about it."

[Dr. Connors turns back to Peter with a syringe in hand, which he lightly flicks to get rid of any air bubbles before stabbing it into his arm.]

Dr. Connors: "There you go, that should take care of the bite—but, if you have any further complications, I'll send you home with some antibiotics."

Peter: [sighs with relief] "Thanks Doc—my aunt and uncle have enough to worry about with me, I can't imagine the kind of talk they'd give me if I got bit by something actually dangerous here."

???: [[Oh, I'm sure we can, Pete—but that's for another time, and another Peter, and sadly, this isn't your story...]]

[Scene hard-cuts to Peter's high school, the cafeteria at lunch the next day]

???: "—wait, you seriously got bit?!"

???: [[It's mine.]]

[Scene shifts to show Peter sitting across from another young man with darker brown hair and lightly tanned skin, dressed in an oversized hoodie. He holds a club sandwich in one hand, a single bite taken out of it. A text block pops up with the name "Nathaniel Black."]

Nate: "Peter, that's crazy!"

Peter: [waves him off with a hand wrapped in a bandage] "It's fine—Doctor Connors got me set up alright, and it barely even stings now."

Nate: "Still, that could've been so bad—I mean, what kind of guy just lets a spider wander about like that? Especially one that could've been experimented on?"

???: "The kind my father hires, obviously."

[Scene shifts again to show the third person sitting at the table—a black-haired girl with bright green eyes, quite a bit shorter than either of the boys and with a heavy punk aesthetic. A text block pops up with the name "Harleen Osborn."]

Harleen: [taking a sip from her cup of noodles] "Hell, that's why I think you should sue—it'd be good for you and your aunt and uncle, and might give the old man the wake-up call he needs."

[Nate and Peter both shoot Harleen withering stares]

Nate: "Harls, no one's going to sue your dad—especially not over an accident he wasn't responsible for."

Peter: "And especially not when I'm still fine!"

Harleen: [shrugs] "Fine. Suit yourself. It's not like my good ideas have ever steered you wrong before..."

[Image shifts to show two arrows stabbing Nate and Peter in the backs—both reading 'got internships thanks to her recommendation'. They both wince in unison.]

Nate: "N-now hang on! That's different!"

Peter: "Actually, speaking of—Nate, how's your after school internship going so far?"

Nate: "Huh? Oh, it's...alright. Honestly, I wish I had half as involved a mentor as you do with Dr. Connors—Dr. Octavius basically just keeps himself all day, and I'm just stuck doing coffee runs for him."

Peter: "Oh, ouch."

Harleen: "Wow. I mean, I knew he was bad according to my father, but that...woof."

Nate: "Yeah, well..." [crushes up his sandwich bag and stands up from the table, slinging his backpack back over his shoulder] "Hopefully today will be different—apparently he's got something big planned for tonight."

Peter: "What sort of thing? Connors is all about genetics and radiation—what's Doc Ock's thing?"

Nate: "Well...it's a bit complicated."

Harleen: [leans close to Peter] "That means it's boring."

Nate: "Hey! No it's not!"

[The three friends laugh as they begin to walk off together to their next class]

Nate: [[Such a simpler time that was. If only it could remain simple, like that, forever...]]

[cinnamonnnbear]

The Creation of Assassin Spider - The reunion

I had to write a short story for my english class but I ended up writing an entire story on my character so I decided to post it here

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

The rain poured down onto the city, People rushed to get their umbrellas out and to get under cover, The splash of people’s shoes in newly made puddles and cars turning on their windshield wipers. The neon colors of the building shot through the rain, reflecting in the puddles on the floor.  A record store door opened, “I’m just going out for lunch!” the person yelled inside. The person pulled a hood over his head and grumbled out something. 

Keith Killjoy, not many people knew who he was, they only knew one thing, he was the husband of Doctor Nathan Octavious Killjoy. He didn’t like to remember that time of his life. Did Nathan mean everything to him? Yes. Did Nathan hurt him? Yes. What most people don’t know is that Keith’s real name is Keith Yuri Soloman Parker, He was the son of Peter Parker. His father died during the fight with Thanos. Keith moved from New York to California to live with his mom and his grandparents. From what people could see Keith looked like a young adult, around the age of 19, he had short brown hair with the front bleached blonde and dyed a light pink. Normally he’d wear a cropped black tank top with baggy jeans but today he was wearing a hoodie with ripped jeans.  

Keith grumbled again. He hates the rain, it gives him bad memories. He pulled his hood higher on his head. Of course, the one day he didn’t bring his umbrella it was pouring rain. His phone in his pocket buzzed. He knew what it was, either A- Jeremy sending everyone’s lunch request or B- Another attack in the city. He wanted it to be option A, but he had a feeling that it was option B. 

He checked the message out; Jeremy: Hey! So, there is a group of vigilantes that are fighting in the downtown area. Mr.Stark was wondering if you could go check it out before getting our lunch. Of course. He had to go do Stark’s dirty work. 

Devin Stark; Son of Tony Stark. Just like Keith, Devin lost his father in the fight against Thanos. Devin ended up moving with his mom and twin sister to California to ‘get a fresh start’ but they actually came to restart Stark Enterprises. His sister ended up being the heir of the company and Devin went on to open Match Box Twenty Records; which is where he works. Devin also ended up restarting the Avengers, Which Keith was a part of, as well.

Jeremy Quill; Son of Peter Quill. Unlike Keith and Devin, his dad survived the fight against Thanos, but his mother did not. His father sent him out to live with his aunt in California. Keith had met Jeremy before in high school, they had dated for a while until they split up after graduation. They didn’t have bad blood, it was an easy break-up. 

Keith sighed and walked in the direction of the downtown area. He took a shortcut through the fire escapes to climb the roofs. Downtown wasn’t far from the record shop, so it was just a couple of blocks to hop from. On the way to the fight, Keith put on his Spider suit. This is how people knew him, Assassin-Spider. People gave him that nickname due to him killing his own kind, like the Assassin spider, and having the agility of a spider. Keith never inherited Peter’s spider powers, He was genetically modified to have them. Keith stopped at the end of the roof he was on and looked over, He watched the umbrellas walk down the street and the people getting to lunch or their jobs. Then he saw it, the fight, he couldn’t tell who it was but he was praying that it wouldn’t take too long.  Keith slipped his headphones on and jumped off the roof, “Hey Siri, play crime-fighting playlist,” his phone clicked on his playlist. Keith hummed in satisfaction, No One Lives Forever by Oingo Boingo.  

Keith swung into the fight and kicked one of the people in the jaw. Now that he got a good look at the guy he knew who it was. The Winter Soldier, Logan Barnes. He’d met Bucky Barnes a couple of times growing up, His mother would bring him over to Bucky’s house to play with his son. Logan made a yelping sound, and Keith swung back around to try and get another hit in. Logan grabbed Keith’s leg and slammed him into the ground. Keith groaned, and Logan went in to kick Keith. Keith rolled away but felt a great surge of magic next to him, He looked up to see the Scarlet Witch. Keria Maximof, Daughter of Vision, and Wanda Maximof. Keith had only heard of Wanda, He was kind of scared of her, to be honest. Keith pushed himself off the ground, he looked around the area to see what he could use around him. 

“What are you doing here Spidey?” Logan scoffed, “This isn’t even your fight,” Logan grabbed a bag that was dropped on the floor. 

“I see you’re still a little hurt that Stark didn’t invite you to the Avengers, huh?” Keith snapped back. Keith tossed a knife at Logan, nicking Logan’s cheek. Logan hissed at the pain and glared at Keith. 

“You brat!” Logan picked up the knife Keith had just thrown and ran over to Keith. Keith dogged out of the way and into an alleyway. He heard Logan and Keira talking about something, probably where he disappeared off to. Keith looked around, what could he use to fight these super soldiers. A sound of robotic tentacles made Keith poke his head out of his hiding spot. 

“You lost him?!” The new person yelled. Keith knew this voice, he knew it well. Doctor Nathan Killjoy, better known in the criminal circle as Doc Ock. Keith had to check his breathing, he hadn’t seen Nathan since he had escaped from the lab. Keith quickly stood up and ran in the opposite direction. He didn’t want to be near that guy.

[vaguekiwi]

Jack of clovers? Imma sucker for horror

♣️ Jack of Clovers/Clubs: “Horror" (more "supernatural" than horror, I think)

Send me a prompt!

Greenever was a peculiar little town.

Ben had chuckled at it when Peter first told them about his assignment.

“Green-ever? Backwards name sounds like a backwards town.”

“It’ll just be a few months,” Peter replied, “I’ll be back by Christmas. I can put up with a little town upstate for that long.”

May teased, “You know their Burger King won’t be open at 2 AM for a midnight snack.”

Peter had rolled his eyes and tried to insist he wasn’t a child anymore, that he had broken those college habits.

But now here he was at 1:58 in the morning staring at a Closed Taco Bell sign — Greenever had a Taco Bell, a McDonald’s, and a Subway, no Burger King — and he missed New York City with a pang.

It was eerily quiet in Greenever. No traffic at all hours, no lights on this late, no place open and no late night crimes to make your skin crawl. Peter was clueless as to why he’d even been assigned out here. There was nothing to report on and nothing to enforce except breaking up a bar fight or busting teenagers for shoplifting candy bars from the gas station.

The gas station. The one, single gas station in the whole town.

Greenever had a population of 982; one gas station; one overpriced general store — most folks made the 20 minute drive to Wal-Mart two towns over — three fast food places; one locally owned restaurant; two churches; and a K-8 school.

High schoolers bussed to another town.

There was a building and overgrown football field where there used to be a Greenever High School. “In the town’s heyday,” the other cops on the force said, “Go Bulldogs”. But the high school was abandoned now, an eerie sprawling one-story building just past the train tracks.

Peter trudged back to his patrol car and climbed into the driver’s seat. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Please tell me where we need to go to get a goddamn burger.” 

In the passenger seat, Reilly raised his eyebrows and didn’t remove his feet from the dash.

“You wanna drive all the way to Montreal?” He drawled. “Though that might be shirking our post.”

Peter groaned and mumbled, “You gotta be pissing with me.” He buckled his seatbelt and started the engine, “Where do we go now?”

Reilly grunted, “Let’s loop around the cemetery, sometimes the teenagers get frisky up there. ‘Specially this time of year.”

Peter pulled the car onto the street and started to drive. It would take them all of four minutes — carry them to 2:05 AM and still hours from the end of their shift. But it was better than just sitting there on Main Street.

Maybe.

In Peter’s periphery, Reilly settled lower in his seat and looked out the window. His shirt was starched and stiffed, too clean and pale blue like in cartoons. The patches and badge were all bright and unscuffed. Peter had reluctantly changed into the Greenever uniform, but since he was technically just on loan he coerced his way into sewing on his own City of New York Police Department patch.

It had been a point of great contention with his Captain in Queens and the Sheriff upstate, but Peter was one of very few officers willing to drop everything and move out to the middle of nowhere to fill in some staffing shortages. So they’d bent before he did.

The autumn Adirondacks were supposed to be beautiful, and maybe it was just Peter’s mood, but to him Greenever’s fall leaves were off. Garish oranges, shit-coloured browns, and reds that reminded him unnervingly of blood-stained alleys back home.

The leaves trembled on the edge of their branches, flinching away from the headlights. Peter’s tongue clicked in distaste as he took a turn, but the car’s weight was off. Most of the city’s patrol cars were Chevy or Dodge and he hadn’t minded them so much. But Greenever was mostly Fords, a company Peter was already partial against due to a terrible series of breakdowns and repairs when he was in high school that prompted Ben to get a third job and May to suffer insomnia.

He was convinced the Ford didn’t drive as well as the squad cars in the city. Maybe it wasn’t true, but until his paperwork got un-mixed-up and he received the bonus he was supposed to have gotten for this gig, Peter was resigned to be as bitter about things as he could be.

“So did you like… grow up in the city?”

“In Queens,” Peter grunted, not looking at Reilly. He didn’t return the question: he already knew that Reilly had been born and raised here — literally born at home because the hospital had been too far twenty-three years ago — and almost had enough money to buy his parent’s house at a discount, and was planning to propose to his girlfriend on Christmas Eve on the high school bleachers where they’d had their first kiss at 13.

He never shut up about it.

Peter didn’t dislike Benjamin Reilly. Reilly just unnerved him. They were the same height. They had the same brown eyes flecked with gold, the same tall cheekbones and flat eyebrows and thick curls cut too short and swept off to the right. They were even born on the same day which meant they started and graduated from their respective police academies the same day (fortunately, their high school graduation weekends had been two Saturdays off from one another.)

Reilly was just a bleak look at what Peter’s life might have been like in another town. And Peter didn’t like it because it sounded boring.

It had nothing to do with Reilly’s parents being alive or Reilly being in a committed relationship with someone who loved him or Reilly having worked ‘for spending money’ all through high school instead of making ends meet.

The cemetery was as ruthlessly boring and unexciting as every other part of Greenever. Their headlights illuminated several neat rows of tombstones. Peter yawned, put the car in park, and slouched in the driver’s seat.

“See those?” Reilly pointed at the woods across the cemetery. 

“The trees?” Peter asked.

“Nuh-uh,” Reilly sat up, as if getting six inches closer would make it clear what he was pointing at outside. “Well, I mean, yes, but not all the trees. See those dead ones?”

Peter squinted. The headlights shone on one spindly dead tree on the horizon. Now that he was focused on it, Peter realised there was a row of them. Each devoid of leaves, bark ghostly white, empty branches jabbing into the sky and cutting unnaturally across what would otherwise be a normal looking treeline.

“Are they sick?” Peter asked, dredging up memories of an undergrad class with pictures of blighted trees.

“Not anymore. They’ve been dead for — I dunno… twenty years, at least.”

Peter sniffed, “What about ‘em, then?”

“They were pine trees,” Reilly said.

Peter grunted to show he understood: pine trees that were not-so-evergreen. So was this copse tied to the little town’s peculiar name?

Peter stifled a yawn by biting down on his knuckles and, when Reilly hadn’t said anything else, he ventured,

“There’s a story to them, yeah? Ten white pine trees, some ten-little-soldier-boys kinda tale to it?”

“You mean that little drummer boy song?”

So Reilly wasn’t familiar with the works of Agatha Christie. Unsurprising, but still disappointing.

Then again, the only reason Peter had ever picked up one of the woman’s books was because Michelle had brought it along on a field trip.

Without correction or clarification, Reilly pivoted the conversation, “Story goes that the trees’ll get their needles back once the spirit’s been appeased.”

“The spirit of the trees?”

Sounded like an edgy take on The Lorax, which Peter could confidently say was something the world didn’t need.

“Spirit of the town.” Reilly shrugged, “Or…” then he waved a hand vaguely toward the window, “Or the cemetery or the road or something.”

Peter reflected that — if he were one to believe in spirits — then he’d probably be a stickler about getting the titles and designations right.

But he didn’t believe in ghosts. The only creatures hiding in the dark were the very-human predators of New York City. Evil spirits existed, but they weren’t floating around spooking folks in abandoned homes. No. Peter had seen enough in the city. The real evil was in the house next door and the unassuming smiles of passerby on the street.

“They say on quiet nights, if you get up next to the trees, you can hear the spirit rattling their branches. Wailing in the wind.”

“Who’s they?”

Reilly furrowed his brow, most likely not wanting to admit that the suburban legend stemmed from high school keggers and voyeuristic stoners.

Oh, there was probably wailing in the cemetery at night. That much Peter was sure of. But there was a difference between a tortured ghost and a frisky adolescent.

Reilly had closed his eyes. Peter dialed his radio volume up by two and then down by two and then up again. Static heightened and subsided with the movement. He shifted to roll another yawn out of his body and tried not to dwell on cheese quesadillas and chalupa supremes.

Greenever.

Peter’s head lolled to look out the driver’s side window. He blinked past a gray haze creeping across the ground. It would suck if it was foggy and damp out tomorrow: after an overnight, Peter usually liked to spend time in the sun. Shrug off the haze of the wee hours and soak up some vitamin D.

He squinted at the tombstones lined up too-neatly in the cemetery. He pictured small-town graveyards as sprawling, unwieldy things; overgrown with weeds and mismatched headstones and siphoning off in too many directions as a village realised it was a town and the flow of time brought bureaucracy and zoning laws and a stoic refusal to desecrate the resting place of the deceased.

Not Greenever.

Neat rows of tombstones in a carefully manicured cemetery overlooked by ghostly white pines shivering in the fog.

The wind picked up outside. The pines shuddered and then leaned.

One seemed to drift, tangled in the web of fog. Peter squinted as the trunk twisted in and out of sight, one moment solid and the next blurring with silver haze.

He lifted his flashlight and clicked twice, trying to orient himself and the car relative to the trees.

The beam of light made Reilly lift his head. He slurred something, voice and limbs weighed down by the late hour. Some sort of baseline inquiry about what Peter had noticed.

“Nothin,” Peter drawled, letting the city tumble through his accent. Every once in a while it made him feel closer to home, reminded him of Uncle Ben. Gave the impression he was more grown-up, finally as old as he wanted to be.

The trees lulled in the wind. The car door opened with a crackling sound that made Reilly jump in his seat.

“Be right back,” Peter grunted, turning his flashlight on as he climbed out of the car. He shut the door behind him and made eye contact with Reilly through the window.

“Gonna take a quick round,” Peter said and swung toward the cemetery. Reilly lifted his eyebrows and waved a lazy, half-salute as Peter started to trudge along the grass.

He kept his flashlight on, beam pouring from his hip. It sliced through the grass and glanced off the white pines. Silver lines worn in the tree trunks reflected against clinging pearls of dew.

All Peter could hear was the soft pad of his feet in the drenched grass. He stopped walking as the trees came into view. He let his ears open to the whistle of the wind and, distantly, the vibration of the car engine he’d kept running.

“Ben! Ben!”

“Ben!”

Voices. Distant. Shouting. Squeals that fell in the eerie space between laughter and torture — like an infant who might be gasping with mirth or sobbing from frustration. The hairs on Peter’s neck stood on end, and he took two more lurching steps forward.

He held the flashlight up, slick against his palm. From the fog? Or… was he sweating?

Another bleat of joy or agony. Peter finally mustered his voice.

“Who’s out there?” 

He kept a deep rumble in his throat, unsure whether the children would surrender themselves or try to run when caught in the act.

Peter rolled his flashlight first one way, then another. He caught a glimpse of one of them, a silhouette ducking behind one of the trees.

“Kids, that’s enough!” Peter called, trudging forward.

Damn this would be a lot more satisfying with some Taco Bell in his stomach.

“Hey, come on out. I’ll take you home.” He swallowed. His throat was drier than he wanted it to be, he flashed his light across the trees again.

“You’re not in trouble, just let my partner an’ me take you home!”

Thick silence wended in the air.

Gooseflesh prickled along Peter’s arms and wisps of fog curled across both eyes, obscuring his vision. Peter blinked and took another step, lifting his flashlight again only to bump into one of the pine trees.

He stumbled back as quickly as he hit it, certain the tree hadn’t been so close to begin with. He craned his neck up, wondering if it had been that tall, too. 

His knee was cold where he’d struck the tree, like a piece of ice had threaded its way inside to replace his veins. Peter’s hand trembled as he lifted the flashlight again, but he startled when he struck another tree behind him.

Laughter pealed next to his ear and Peter cried out, lurching to the right and away from the copse. 

He was away from the cemetery proper now, yet he tripped and spilled over two graves immediately beside him. Peter gasped and scrambled to his feet, blood running cold when he looked at the headstones below him.

Richard and Mary Reilly

Peter flexed his neck and eased the cold rush out of his veins. They were probably Reilly’s grandparents, but it was unsettling to see the same names as his own parents printed in stone.

Remembering the children he’d heard, Peter lifted his flashlight in the direction of the trees again. It was odd they’d seemed to surround him, because they were arranged in a row.

Peter took a step forward, one foot sinking into the dewy marsh of the ground.

“Boo!”

Peter screamed and toppled backward, flashlight flying out of his grip as he reached for the gun at his side.

He didn’t get a chance to draw it before he made sense of Reilly’s breathless laughter above him.

“Oh you should’ve seen the look on your face, Parker!”

Peter shook his head as he dusted himself off, slowly climbing to his feet.

“Not that funny, man.” He straightened up slowly, taking care to pluck pieces of grass and mud from his uniform. “Come on, let’s just get back to the car.”

Peter turned away. He took a few steps back toward the cemetery, where their headlights washed everything in ivory.

When he didn’t hear anything behind him, Peter turned again, clicking his flashlight twice.

“Reilly?”

Nothing answered. Fed up with pranks, Peter growled, “Seriously, I’m done with this man. Not. Fucking. Funny. Now come back to the car.”

Peter strode away from the cemetery again, wrinkling his nose when Reilly didn’t follow. He slammed the car door when he dumped himself into the driver’s seat and glowered at the trees on the horizon.

Reilly still didn’t return to the car.

Peter couldn't see Reilly anywhere.

“God I am so done with this town and his bullshit.” Peter snatched up his radio and clicked through to Reilly. “Come back to the car, you idiot. Let’s get out of here. I’m done playing.”

Static crackled on the other end and then the headlights winked out. Peter sat up straighter, cursing under his breath as he clicked through again, “I’m serious man, the car battery just died. Stop messing around.”

Finally a voice came back through, “Officer Parker? You trying to reach someone here?”

Peter cursed before lifting the radio again, “Sorry, Captain. I meant to radio through to Reilly. Setting must be messed up.”

“Reilly?”

“Ben.” Peter said, “Benjamin Reilly. He’s fucking around with me playing pranks, now our battery’s dead, I’m just trying to get him to come back.”

After a measured silence, the Captain’s voice filtered back through, hazy and distant:

“Officer Parker, I think you better return to the station.”

“Sir?”

“Benjamin Reilly died years ago, son. By those white pine trees near the cemetery.”

[f10werfae]

Hairy Shenanigans ☁️

Pairing: Husband! Chris Evans x Pregnant! Reader

Word count: 943

Summary: Y/n needs some help with her shaving capabilities and her husband is more than willing to help out

Warnings: Mentions of razors

————-

Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

—————

(Y/n's P.O.V)

“Chris? can you come in please?” I yelled out the bathroom door connected to our bedroom, listening to the gentle thuds of his footfalls as he approached the bathroom.

“Yeah? What’s up baby?” He asked leaning against the door with his arms crossed, his eyes raking over my naked figure standing in the glass shower.

“I need major help right now”

“What with?” Chris quirked up his brow, walking over with his hands coming to rub up and down my arms comfortingly.

“Would you be willing to help me shave? I can already tell it’s getting bushy down there and my legs are pissing me off” I complained stomping my feet a little, my 8 month pregnant stomach rippling.

“Of course baby, you shoulda said sooner”

“Why are you weirdly excited bub?” I questioned warily, his hand reaching to take the razor from my hands while his other hand reaching to pull me in for a kiss by my neck.

“Listen any excuse to touch my wife is a God given opportunity, and if you must know I have a talent in shaving. Do you see how well kept this beard is?”

“Righttt, you do know what to do right?”

“Hell yeah, now sit your pretty ass down on that shower bench and let me work my magic on your legs first” Chris said passively, kneeling down onto the floor and bringing one of my legs up across one of his knees.

(10 minutes later)

“See honey? no cuts or anything, just like I said”

“Okay okay no need to get cocky bub, you haven’t gotten to the worst part yet” I sighed standing up with his help, a smug smirk on his face as he caressed my stomach lovingly.

“Are you sure you’re okay to shave my bush?” I asked again for a final time.

“Okay? I’m really f*cking excited babe, this feels like a major intimate moment” He joked spinning the razor by the handle in his hand.

With one leg propped up on the bench, he bent down onto one leg and reached for the trimming scissors.

“Chris you just have to trim the bush first, not give it a mullet, what the hell is taking you so long” I huffed out, a hand cradling my bump and another holding onto Chris' head softly.

“Do you want a clean shave or not?” He sassed back

“Do you want me to piss on you or not?” I snarked, the baby in my stomach was constantly treating my bladder as a bouncy castle.

“Point taken, my lovely wife. Let’s just shave yeah” He chuckled nervously, his face getting more focused as he worked away.

“Chris I swear if you cut my vagina in some way, i’m gonna be so pissed”

“Can you shush for a second babe, i’m tryna manoeuvre around places here”

“Just be careful alright? i’ve never had anyone shave my pubes before”

“Yeah i’d like to think so honey, we’ve been together since high school”

“Idiot” I whispered smiling to myself, even after all these years we never fail to make each other laugh or tease each other. Our love only getting stronger by the day, proven by the life we both made inside me.

“Alright, I think i’ve gotten most if not all of the hairs. You’re welcome honey bun” He breathed out putting the razor aside, standing up to place a kiss on my lips.

“Will you be alright to shower on your own? Or do you need my help with that too baby?”

“Get outta here you perv, your son doesn’t approve” I laughed out, the kicks against my stomach causing flutters within my heart.

“Okay okay, but i’ll be waiting for you by the bed yeah? I call dibs on lotion duty and you can’t say otherwise” He spat out, stealing another kiss from me before running out the bathroom, leaving me speechless.

“Your dad’s crazy, squirt” Feeling a kick in reply which I took as an agreement, then I finally turned on the shower.

(35 minutes later)

Stepping out of the bathroom in just a towel, Chris did not lie when he said he was wanting to be on lotion duty. He sat there like a puppy at the edge of the bed, my skincare products laid out neatly beside him on the bed.

“Come here mama, take that robe of yours off”

“That desperate Chris? you are one horny ass man”

“Can you blame me? You’re just so sexy” He sighed out, walking over to me with my Argan oil in his hands. Easily he untied my robe and pushed it off my shoulders, letting it pool around my feet on the floor.

Pouring some of the oil onto his hands, he threw the bottle onto the bed before his hands started to wander. Starting at the top of my thighs, moving to my stomach which he took extra care with; then to my now swollen breasts. A comfortable silence between us both.

Next he picked up my mint scented lotion, sitting me onto the bed he got down and lifted a leg onto his shoulder. Massaging up and down both my legs one at a time, taking extra time over the delicate parts of my body and placing kisses wherever he saw fit.

“okay now what do you wanna wear to bed?” He asked wiping his hands onto my towel, using a hairbrush to softly run through my hair which he had just dried with the towel.

“I think i’m just going to go nude baby, is that okay?”

“Don’t need to ask me twice babe, i’m totally on board”

[spidernerdsblog]

When Worlds Collide

A/N : well I’m back in my andrew phase. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

Summary : your best friend mysteriously goes missing and when he returns you’re met with the shocking truth of him being spiderman adding to that you learn that the cause of his disappearance was him being transported to another dimension.

Pairing : Andrew! Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings : NWH spoilers, best friends -> lovers

One day. It has been one whole day and you have no idea where your best friend was. You were supposed to be working on your research project today but then he didn’t show up during the morning class— which wasn’t unusual for him because he had a habit of disappearing now and then but it was only for a short time. And this time it has been way too long which had you visibly worried.

You’ve been trying his cell phone for hours but every time it said it was unreachable. You even considered calling aunt may but then gave up on the idea not wanting to get her stressed more than she was already about her nephew.

You wouldn’t have been this desperate if it wasn’t important. After months of pondering you had finally decided to tell him that knowingly or unknowingly you had fallen in love with him and now he goes missing. How convenient of you Parker?

You met Peter in the first year of your undergrads. He was your assigned lab partner. Lean, tall figure, thick rimmed glasses set on the bridge of his nose and messy brown hair. You haven’t seen a nerd so effortlessly good looking. He was funny and a genius. You loved when he did that cute awkward thing while talking. Not to mention he can skateboard as well as is into photography and with all this how can you expect someone not to fall in love with that dork. 

He did tell you about his girlfriend in high school and her tragic demise, since then he never let himself feel anything for anyone again. Another reason that stopped you from telling him the truth but lately your secret crush on him has grown into something intense and it feels like if you don’t tell him it would drive you to the brink of insanity.

At night you were on the terrace of your apartment building. You and Peter often used to hang out here talking about life and other stuff. The air felt chilly and you decided to go back to your apartment but then froze noticing a golden glow and then saw Peter materialize out of thin air in the spiderman suit.

“What the—” you gasped in shock and Peter looked at you with the same horror on his face.

“Hey it's just me Peter. No need to freak out.” he said, closing the distance between you.

“Oh my god, Peter. You're spiderman?!” your voice came out way higher than intended.

“Umm yeah as you can see but can you keep it down. Don’t want the whole neighborhood to know now.”

“You know I had something to say to you…then you didn’t show up in class and after as well… I was so worried.” you rambled.

“I know, I know.” he pulled you in his embrace.

“And what happened to your face?” you gently brushed your fingers on his bruises and he winced.

“Long story.” he sighed.

“We need to clean those wounds before they get infected.”

“No need for that, trust me I’m fine.”

“No, I'm not listening to anything. You’re coming with me right now.” despite his several protests you brought him back to your apartment and cleaned his wounds.

“Where were you the whole day? And how did you materialize out of thin air?” you asked while applying the antiseptic cream on the scars.

“Well I just returned from another universe.” he said vaguely.

“What?” You looked at him skeptically and sniffed him. “Are you drunk?” 

“It's kind of complicated. I'll tell you tomorrow after class. I promise.” saying so he swung out of your window as you sat on your bed trying to wrap your head around everything that happened in the last one hour.

Next day Peter found you in the breakroom after classes.

“Hey.” he said as soon as he walked in.

“You liar!” you charged at him and started hitting him with the thick biology book you had in your hand on his back. 

“Ow, ow, ow that hurts.” he cried out.

You stopped your little assault remembering the bruises he had last night. “Oh I’m so sorry I completely forgot. Where did it hurt?” you asked with concern.

“It's all healed up, don't worry.” he flashed you a grin. You frowned, inhaling sharply and began to hit him again on his arm. 

“I’m sorry Y/N. Stop it now it hurts.” he said with a pained expression.

“You deserve this and I know you don't feel a thing cause you are—” you cut yourself off noticing more people have gathered inside the breakroom. Wordlessly you grabbed his arm and dragged him across the hallways out to the campus field where the varsity football team were busy practicing. 

“Now why didn’t you tell me that you are spiderman?” you said as both of you sat down at the farthest corner of the empty bleachers. “The reason better be good Parker.” 

“Well kinda beats the whole idea of being the masked vigilante if I go around telling people I'm spiderman.” he shrugged.

“Don't try to act smart. And I'm not just any other person, I'm your best friend!” you retorted.

“I'm sorry but it's for your own safety. I’ve already lost the people i loved and I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me.” 

You figured he was talking about Gwen. “Hmm I understand.” 

“But I’m sorry I hid it from you.” he said apologetically.

“I can’t believe I was thirsting on spiderman in front of you and now I get to know it was you all along. God it’s so embarrassing.” you hid your face behind your palms. It was true you used to openly talk about the huge crush you had on Spiderman to him of how it would feel to run your hands across his lean muscular body even going as far as to talk about how good his ass looks in that tight suit.

“Don’t worry your secret is safe with me.” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes. “So the thing you were talking about last night getting back from another universe.” 

“What if I said string theory, multidimensional reality and matter displacement, these are all real?” he asked.

“NO WAY!” you gasped, eyes going wide in disbelief and shock.

“You gotta believe me Y/N. Two days ago I was just swinging across the neighborhood and suddenly it felt like I was still in New York but on a different reality and then this portal opened—”

You cut him off. “And you just walked right inside it?” 

“Yeah why not?” he said coolly. 

“Peter! It could have been dangerous!” 

“I'm used to danger” he shrugged smugly. You rolled your eyes as he continued with his story.

“So as I walked in there were these two kids, a boy his name was Ned and the girl was MJ. Then there was Ned's lola who made me clean the cobwebs on their ceiling.” you started laughing and he grimaced. “Don't laugh.” 

You snorted. “Serves you right.”

“Ok so then I got to know that they were looking for Peter Parker and accidentally opened up a portal to me.” 

“But you're Peter Parker.” you said in confusion.

“That is the thing I met two different variants of me” he said. “One was an older dude and the other one was the kid whose identity got revealed in his world and he wanted to make everyone forget about it but then he messed up the spell of the wizard and caused a rift in the multiverse.” 

“Wait now there are wizards? You're not making this shit up right?” you eyed him down skeptically.

“No, trust me! He was literally a guy with a goatee and a flying cloak.”

“I’m really having a hard time believing all this right now but you’re spiderman so anything is possible. Carry on.” 

“Guess who was there as well? Dr. Connors and Max.” he was dropping surprises after surprises and all you could do was just sit there gaping at him with complete shock.

“But Dr. Connors is in jail and Max is dead right?” 

“Well they got transported just before the time I defeated them along with an octopus guy, a sand man and a green elf who was a complete maniac.”

“You mean Harry Osborn? The green goblin?”

“No, it was his dad Norman from the older Peter’s universe and he killed Aunt May in that world.” he said with remorse.

“Oh god that poor kid. I can't imagine what he had to go through.” you sympathize.

“Yeah he was devastated and I know what it feels like to lose the person you love. You blame yourself for not trying your best to keep them safe.” he said “but it was nice to see friends having his back. Like you had mine all these years.” you smiled as he carried on. “You know Norman tried to throw MJ down a building just like Harry did.” 

“What?” your voice quavered. All these years you’ve seen him live with the pain of losing Gwen and another repetition of the event is not what he requires in life.

“Yeah all of a sudden it was a deja vu for me but Y/N this time I saved her. I couldn't save my Gwen but I did save his gwen.” he said with tears streaming down his eyes.

You fought back your own tears as your hands reached out to his face wiping his tears. “It wasn't your fault Peter. If Gwen would have been here she would have told the same.” he nodded in understanding.

“So what happened to Max and Connors and the other guys? Did they die?” you asked.

“No, we cured them” he said. “The tech is quite advanced in that universe. That kid had a nanotech suit, can you believe it?” 

“Wow, that's cool.” you arched your brows amused.

“Although the other Peter had natural web fluid coming out of his wrists.”

“Ewww.” you scrunched your nose “What is it like snot coming out of your nose? And does it only come out of his wrist or….”

“Well he said it’s only the wrists.” he shrugged.

“I think I have heard enough of your bizarre interdimensional experience.” you shook your head and he chuckled.

“But are you ok Peter?”

“Never been better.” he said with a long sigh. “I mean I have two brothers now whom I won't meet again but hey let's just hope another rift happens. You know they fought aliens. God I want to fight an alien so badly too.”

“No you absolutely don’t. This interdimensional travel is enough for now.” you stated firmly.

“Ok ma’am.” he laughed lightly. “So what did you have to say to me?” 

“What?” 

“You only said last night that you were looking for me.”

Dammit, why does he have such a good memory? 

A day ago you were confident enough to tell him about your feelings but that moment has passed. And now with this added knowledge of him being spiderman you really don’t know if it’s appropriate to tell him.

“Oh it's nothing” you shrugged. 

“No, tell me if it's important.” he encouraged.

“It's just… I don't know, it's silly.. nevermind leave it.” you waved your hand in dismissal.

“Hey it's just me you can tell me anything you know that right.” 

“Yeah I know but I just don't know…” you paused to think for a moment and decided on telling him or else you’ll lose your mind thinking about it later. You took a deep breath. “Okay so here is it. Peter, I really like you.” 

“Y/N I…” Peter hadn’t expected you to say this as he stared at you open mouthed.

“Don’t worry I don’t expect you to say it back.” you added quickly. “I just had to get this off my chest, that's all.” 

When he still didn’t say a word you assumed you had screwed things up between you two. “Oh god I just made things awkward didn’t I? Just- just forget I said anything like that” you stood up hurriedly not wanting to face him anymore. “I-I should go back to the lab.”

“No, no wait, don't go.” he grabbed your hand and pulled you down to sit.    

“It’s ok Peter I know you love Gwen and no one can take her place. You don’t have to worry about me, I know it’s hard to move on.”

“It’s nothing like that Y/N” he said. “I mean it's true I loved Gwen and a part of her will always be there with me. But I don’t think I can deny the feelings I have for you anymore.” 

“You had feelings for me?” your brows drew in confusion.

This whole interdimensional travel proved to be an emotional catharsis for Peter. He no more feels held down by the past and wants to finally move on. And the first step to it is to admit his feelings for you that he has been harboring for a long time. 

“How can I not? After I lost Gwen I was in a dark place.” he took your hand in his “but then I met you. You were like a ray of light that I was desperately searching for. You brought me out of that darker place Y/N, giving me the strength to keep going. And I really don’t wanna lose you too.”

“Peter, I'll always be there for you no matter what.” you said cradling his face.

“Y/N, I think I’m ready to start over and try to become the Peter Parker Gwen wanted me to be. For you.”

“This will be more than enough for me Peter.” you pressed your forehead against his.

“But you’ve to be patient with me.” he smiled.

“I’m ready to wait for you all my life.” you said looping your arm in his and rested your head on his shoulder. You stayed like that for a while reveling upon the fact that the person you secretly loved all this while loves you back. 

Peter noticed the slight crease on your forehead.

“What are you thinking now?” he asked, tapping your head.

“Thinking about what my other variants would be like?” 

“I’m sure they would be less bossy and violent than you.” he chuckled.

“Haha, very funny.” you scowled but Peter couldn’t stop smiling because he did come across your variant in the other dimension and you were so alike in every possible way.

..................................................................................

[erule]

Can i request prompt 6 from the prompt list with Tom holland or peter parker ? Can it be angst or heavy angst (with a happy ending if u want or not ) maybe with Friends to lovers ?? Thank you !!:)

Weak in the knees | p.p.

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You’ve been in love with Peter for years, but he has always been with MJ. Now, he tells you that they broke up but you don’t know that the reason is you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, friends to lovers trope, happy ending

Word count: 1.1K

A/N: hi! I chose number 6 and Peter Parker. Thanks for the request, hope you like it!! Also a big THANK YOU to each and every one of you, because you follow me and you like my stories. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer! Hope y’all like it. Enjoy! X

Prompt: “You’re always gonna be my weakness”.

(you’ll find it in the story marked in bold).

[This story participates to my 2.2K followers celebration party].

His smile has always made you weak in the knees. Always. There hasn’t been a time you recall it hasn’t.

It was fabulous at high school, because you could see him bring light at the end of the hallways with that, even when it was directed to somebody else and not you. To Ned. To MJ. You even learnt when it was only for her eyes, because he was falling for her. You could have said it to Ned, when it was wide and shiny. When he was in love with her. It wasn’t the same, when he liked your jokes. But now, now you can’t even enjoy it, because you go to another college while he’s with them. You bet that he’s still smiling at MJ in that particular way, something you’ll never even see, but even if you miss it, maybe you’re better off alone. Jealousy is not something that belongs to you, but you felt it as something borrowed. Now you’re not in high school anymore and you don’t see Peter often as before, luckily. Things are getting better.

That’s what you thought, at least.

“Peter?” You ask outside of the college, surprised. You almost lost the grip from your books. You weren’t supposed to see him today.

“Hi,” he says, a brief smile on his face and you already know that something is wrong.

“What happened?”

“Why do you always ask me that?”

“Because we barely see each other now, so when you come here there’s always some mess I have to clean up,” you reply, starting to walk away. He follows you.

“Well, not this time! I just wanted to say hello to you,” he says and you furrows your eyebrows.

Something is definitely wrong.

“Another fight with MJ? Send her some flowers, she’s gonna love them”.

“You love flowers, she hates them”.

“I’m sorry if I don’t know your girlfriend’s tastes,” you reply, with resentment.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” he murmurs and you suddenly stop.

They’ve been together for three years. You have waited for them to break up as if it could have been your choice to confess him that you love him for so long, but now, his whispers have taken you by surprise.

“What?”

“You didn’t think about that, did you?” He asks ironically, but you don’t move a muscle, still in shock. “It’s not a mess you have to clean up, don’t worry. She broke up with me two months ago, but I wanted to tell you in person,” he adds. Then, he sighs, his hands in his pockets. “I’ve missed you, Y/N. I realized that the only person I wanted to talk to about this was you. Not even Ned. Just you,” he says.

You swallow hard.

“Why? Why me?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” he replies confused, as if it was obvious.

“Am I?”

“Y/N?”

You sigh, then you sit down on a bench and he does the same. You don’t want to fight and you don’t want to tell him everything, but all of these mixed feelings are killing you from the inside, so you had to stay still. He’s still looking at you, numb, genuinely curious about what you’re thinking right now.

“You’ve been busy in the past few months. I didn’t even get that you broke up with her, because you stopped texting me”.

“She did,” he repeats and you tilt your head, astonished. “She didn’t want to be with me anymore”.

“But she seemed so in love with you!” You exclaim and even your own words take you by surprise.

“Yeah, but she didn’t want to be with somebody that was always on the phone with another person,” he says.

How great, you think, there’s even another one that he preferred over me.

“And who’s this?” You ask, already tired of this stupid and hurtful conversation.

He takes a deep breath and then he gives you a smile that he didn’t show you ever. It was only meant for MJ and MJ only. Now, it gives you butterflies. Your stomach could explode.

“You. It has always been you, Y/N”.

You shake your head vigorously. No, it can’t be. This is a joke or a lost bet. It can’t be possible. It’s painful and sad that he’s playing with your feelings as they were a toy, now.

“You should be ashamed of that, Peter. You don’t have to make fun of me, even if you know that I like you,” you say, trying to walk away, but he stops you by taking your wrist around his fingers. The touch burns your skin.

“I wouldn’t do it, Y/N, you know me”.

“No, I don’t know you anymore! I’ve been in love with you for years, three years of my life spent by being in the darkness of your smile and now you’re telling me that you want to be with me? This is unbelievable,” you say, with tears in your eyes. “Unbelievable,” you whisper again.

“Y/N…”

“I’ve studied you as if you were a test to pass. I’ve learnt how many moles you have, I’ve learnt that you hate strawberries but you love chocolate, that you put your friends over being Spider-Man, that you don’t go away if I don’t come home safe after you’ve driven me all around the city because it’s the only way I calm down when I’m upset. And I know, I knowhow your smile lights up when you see MJ and it’s not the same when you look at me,” you say and it hurts you more that it should.

“Maybe it means that either I’m a great actor or just a terrible liar, because you haven’t looked at me when I was staring at you,” he replies with a smile and now, you see it. It’s warm like the sun on your skin in Summer. It’s full of light. It’s the very dee and blue see that caresses your body when you go to the beach. And it’s directed at you.

“How come have I not see it?” You ask him, but maybe it’s more a question to yourself.

“I developed these feelings in high school, but I accepted them only a year ago. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, Y/N. You’re too important to me,” he says.

You squeeze his hand.

“Please, give me another smile,” you say and he chuckles.

“Why?”

“Because has always made me weak in the knees,” you answer, a little embarrassed.

“Oh. Well, you’re always gonna be my weakness”, he says with a smile that could light up the whole city.

[heliads]

Two Sides (Part Two)

Based on this request: “avenger!reader x andrew garfield’s peter parker??”

part one / masterlist / part three

You are running late for an Avengers meeting, but all you can do is concentrate on your phone. Technically, you’re not late yet, just behind schedule, but with every minute that passes before you make it up to the central floor of the Avengers complex, you can practically sense Steve Rogers’ glare getting darker and darker. He’s like this all the time now, which is why you’ve given up on trying to appease him.

Besides, you’ve got a fairly good reason for your distraction, at least for you. Specifically, it’s the text messages you’re sending to another masked hero. This one who wears a red and blue suit and goes by the name of Spider-Man. The two of you have been texting nonstop since you met, and he’s only served to make you smile more than you ever have before.

It’s the little things that matter most of all, you suppose. He checks in on you during the day, and you text him during late night Spider-Man patrols to make sure that he won’t fall asleep whilst sticking to the side of a building twenty stories up. Sometimes, when you’re certain that you can escape the all-seeing eyes of S.H.I.E.L.D., you sneak away from the Avengers complex to find Peter. You meet up in crowded cafes and around street corners, while walking home from school and in the wee hours of dawn when only heroes and thieves are awake.

Needless to say, Peter has a far stronger hold over your heart than he should. That’s why he always takes precedence, even on days like today when you really should be making haste to the Avengers meeting instead of smiling like a giddy fool over his text messages. 

That being said, you know that the Avengers will always be there. And, when you finally manage to shake your attention from Peter long enough to dash up the stairs and make it into the meeting room just one minute shy of the official starting time, you can’t quite care enough about the fold of Tony Stark’s arms or the smirk on Natasha Romanoff’s face when they turn to watch you enter. Why should you, anyways? You’ll be able to laugh about it with Peter in a little while.

Steve checks his watch one last time, then, sighing, stands up. “Alright, then. Y/N, we’ve all been thinking about your role in the team.” 

You sit up a little straighter in your chair. Ever since that one incident where you got in trouble for breaking the rules to save a few civilians, tensions have been high. You just want to make sure no one gets hurt, but you’re still limited by the rules and regulations of the Avengers. No matter how much you wish it was otherwise, that’s the way it will always be.

So, when Steve exchanges glances with the other, older Avengers before he keeps speaking, you’re certain that this won’t end well. Maybe they’ll send you back to having a S.H.I.E.L.D. escort at all times, or they’ve figured out that you shared your identity with Peter and you’re going to be lectured for that.

Instead, he just smiles. “We realized that we’ve been a little harsh on you recently. You’ve got a good heart, kid, and we don’t want you to think that’s something to avoid. There’s a new mission coming up, and we think you can take this opportunity to show off your skills as a solo agent.”

You stare at him, blinking in surprise. “You’re letting me go off on my own?” 

Tony shrugs. “Kind of. It’s a small job, no need to get a big head. All you have to do is make your way into a suspected HYDRA facility and retrieve some stolen S.H.I.E.L.D. data stored on a flash drive. No hostages, no one gets hurt, and we’ll be on your comms the whole time. If we suspect for a second that you’re in too deep, we get to pull you out immediately. If we think that you’re going to get hurt, we pull you out immediately. Got it?”

Even his firm tone isn’t enough to dampen your spirits. “Absolutely. When do I start?” 

Nat grins. “Tomorrow morning sound early enough for you?” 

You smile back at her. “I’ll be there.” 

The rest of the Avengers end up briefing you for another few hours, but you can’t seem to lose your excitement. They phrased this whole mission to test if you were ready to have less restrictions while on the team, but you just see it as a chance to finally use your powers without anyone breathing down your back.

Once you get out of the Avengers complex, you hurry out of view of the agents no doubt tailing you, then quickly dial Peter’s number. He picks up almost immediately, and sounds just as excited as you are to hear about your latest mission. 

“That’s amazing. Looks like I won’t have to break you out of S.H.I.E.L.D. after all, huh?” 

You laugh. “The invitation is always open.” 

You can hear his smile through the phone. “I’ll be rooting for you. Stay safe, alright?” 

You feel like you’re walking on air. “I always do.”

That night, you can’t sleep. You lay awake thinking about the mission, running through every aspect in your head, just in case. You’re excited, certainly, as is Peter, but you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right. Steve’s stance was a little too stiff, and Natasha’s smile didn’t come as easily as it usually does. They wouldn’t send you into danger if they didn’t have to (and they’ve made that very, very clear) but you still find yourself plagued by doubts.

Just to be sure, you reach over for your phone and text Peter again. He’s still out doing patrols, but he texts back almost immediately. A few words from him, and you find your troubles falling away from you like stones skipped down a lake, slipping beneath the surface of your mind without a second thought. You fall asleep with a relaxed smile, hand resting on your phone as if it were a hand to hold.

The next day, you find yourself in the Avengers facility once again, suited up and ready to go. You know the plan to the most insignificant details, and can’t wait to get going. There’s a high tech facility on the outskirts of the city. You’ll be dropped off about half a mile in the distance, and from there, you’ll make your way on foot to the HYDRA base. There’s a room on one of the higher levels, and in there, you’ll find the hard drive. All you have to do is make it in and out without getting spotted.

You’re going undercover as a HYDRA trainee, so you’re dressed in the dark drabs of their soldiers. Once the Quinjet drops you off, you join the line of HYDRA agents filing into the building. You’ve been supplied with fake IDs and enough background information to pass muster, and you get in without much issue.

From there, you make your way up to the top floor. You’re posing as a technician, and so no one bats an eye when you stride through the twisting corridors to find a room full of blinking servers and whirring monitors. It’s empty, which is nice, so you don’t have to worry about people asking questions when you start rummaging around for the flashdrive. Steve and the others said it had been stolen from a S.H.I.E.L.D. data transfer about a week or so ago, so you need to get it back immediately.

At last, you find it plugged into a server on the far side of the room. All you had been told about retrieving it was to just get it and get out as fast as you could, no intricacies necessary. You stare at it for a heartbeat longer, then shrug and pull the flashdrive out, plunking it into a zipped pocket on your belt for safekeeping.

The second the flashdrive leaves the server, alarms start wailing from every corner of the room. The lights on the server start flashing a bright, warning red, and you swear under your breath. You hadn’t been told about any anti theft mechanisms, so your only option now is to get out before anyone realizes what happened.

You head to the door as fast as you can, sliding out into the hallway and taking off in the closest direction to the exit. No one has found you yet, but you can be sure that they’re converging on your location. Once you find a group of nearby agents, you slow your pace, doing your best to blend in as if you’re just another one of them.

A HYDRA superior agent jogs up, looking furious. “Intrusion in the third floor database center. Which of you came from that direction? We’ve narrowed the escape avenue to this hall.” 

You start to panic, but manage to keep it inside. They must have monitored your flight from the security cameras. Why were they still functional? Usually, whenever the Avengers do extraction missions, they make sure that all security systems are fully under S.H.I.E.L.D. control before sending anyone in.

The group of HYDRA agents look amongst themselves, and then their gazes turn to you. 

One of them steps forward, pointing a stubby finger at you. “She came up a minute or so ago. I don’t know who she is.” 

The superior officer steps towards you, one hand reaching for his gun. “Where were you, agent?” 

You do your best to seem innocent. “I just came from the eastern comms room. What’s going on?”

The officer narrows his eyes. “Show me your ID.” 

You hand it over, and he examines it for a second. “Wait a minute. I head the tech division, and I’ve never heard of anyone with your name.” 

He levels his gun at you, and you know that the ruse is up. However, you’ve still got one advantage, which is that this HYDRA goon has no idea that you’re anything other than a normal human being.

You have superhuman strength and flight as extra tools in your arsenal, and you use the foremost now to strike at the forearm of the HYDRA agent. You can hear the sound of bones snapping, and grab his gun when he drops it to point it at the other HYDRA agents. While they start to back away, you kick the first guy unconscious. A few of the other HYDRA soldiers try to rush you, but you manage to slam them into the wall before taking off down the hall. You can hear them start to radio in your presence, but you’re already skidding around corners and into an empty sector of the building before they can find you.

You’ve got to find somewhere to get away, and you’ve got to do it fast. You might be able to take on half a dozen guards, but you’re still stuck in a HYDRA facility full of soldiers who want you dead. Your gaze alights on the entrance to an elevator a little further down, and sprint into it. You slam your hand on the buttons, and just as the doors close, you see the soldiers round the corner.

You press the button for the highest possible floor, which should buy you a little time. You lean against the wall of the elevator, panicking. What do you do? You weren’t provided with an extraction plan, only the instructions to remain undercover. The more you think about the mission, though, the less it makes sense. Surely the Avengers would have a secondary plan if something went wrong, right? And why were none of the security systems dismantled?

None of it makes sense, and then it hits you. There was a reason the other Avengers were acting strangely when they gave you the assignment- they wanted you to fail. You were trying to go rogue too often, so they gave you this mission, knowing full well that you wouldn’t be able to do it by yourself. Then they’d be able to swoop in and save you, and you’d believe that the mission was a sign that you had to work with the team.

However, you still have to get out, and you don’t think you’ll be able to do it by yourself. You can’t call the Avengers and admit defeat, so you turn off your S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue microphone and comms unit before grabbing your phone, which you’d refused to leave behind. You call Peter, and practically sigh in relief when he answers.

“Peter, thank everything. I need your help.” 

Peter sounds confused. “Sure. I don’t know what your classes teach, but I’m really good at math and science tutoring.” 

You laugh in spite of yourself. “Not that sort of help. I’m kind of in the middle of a HYDRA building with no backup.” 

You tell him about the Avengers’ trap, and he sounds just as furious as you feel.

The doors to the elevator open with a ding, revealing a squad of soldiers. You frantically press the button to close the doors again, and grab your gun to issue cover fire in the spare seconds before you’re safe again. You send the elevator back to the ground floor, and hope that the doors will stay intact. They’re already riddled with bullet holes, and you have no idea how much more they can take.

You can hear a flurry of activity on Peter’s side of the phone. “I’m heading over now. Can you send me your coordinates?” 

You nod, and start to text them over. 

Peter’s voice comes back as a crackle of static. “On the way. Hold tight, and don’t die.” 

You grin. “Doing my best, Peter. See you soon.” 

You hang up, and only then does the gravity of the situation start to abate. He’s coming. You’re no longer alone.

It takes Peter about fifteen minutes to show up, and those fifteen minutes are spent running around the HYDRA facility and trying not to die. The elevator doors get shot through after five minutes, and the remaining ten pass by surprisingly quickly. Time flies when you’re trying not to get killed, you suppose.

Peter comes just in time, too. You managed to back yourself into a corner, and you’re just about to prepare yourself to go out in a shootout when you hear the sounds of screaming approaching from around a corner. The HYDRA agents pause, confused, and then don’t have any more time to deliberate at all, because Peter’s webbed them to the walls with enough strength to send their guns ricocheting from their hands and onto the tiled floor.

You can’t help it, and fling your arms around him. “Thanks for coming. I don’t think I would have made it much longer.” 

Peter doesn’t even hesitate before embracing you back. “Hey, I couldn’t leave you here in good conscience, could I? I’ll always be here to keep you safe.” 

You flash him one last smile, then grab one of the abandoned guns from the floor. “Let’s get out of here.”

This, as it turns out, is far easier to say than do. For maximum security, there are few to no windows, which means that you and Peter can’t fly or swing out, respectively. You’re forced to brute forcing it out, but with hundreds of agents swarming on you, this feat is practically impossible. At last, after skidding around yet another corner to find more and more HYDRA agents converging on your location, Peter taps your arm and says he’s got a plan.

“There are a ton of high caliber engines and computer systems on this floor, right?” 

You nod slowly. “Yeah, this is the HYDRA tech capital for the city.” 

You swear that you can see Peter grin through the mask. “Perfect. What do you think would happen if we blew them up?” 

Your laugh has a touch of mania to it, but that just fits with the absurdity of Peter’s idea. “We would take down the whole building, but we might be able to make it out.”

Peter starts running again, and you follow him. “That’s all the chance we need. Come on, we’re doing this.” 

You lead him to the room of servers again. You can hear the whir of fans and motors, and realize that this room isn’t just storing information- it’s powering the whole complex. Peter doesn’t hesitate, but starts webbing everything up. The machines start to choke once their fans and gears are swamped with spider web, but he just keeps going.

You reach for the belt at your waist. “I’ve got a few standard-issue explosives.” 

Peter nods. “On the count of three, launch them at the main processor.” 

You turn to glance over at him. “That explosion could be big enough to kill us.” 

He tilts his head to the side, considering this. “Only if we’re close enough to let that happen.”

Peter finishes webbing up the machines, then nods at you. “One, two… Three!” 

You click the safety off of the explosives, and attach them to the biggest, most powerful machine there. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Peter doesn’t stick around, but starts sprinting to the door at the same time as you. HYDRA agents have started to congregate in the hall outside, but the two of you run right past them. You can hear the roar of the first explosives going off behind you, and the last sensation you have before the floor underneath your feet ruptures is that of Peter’s arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him just as everything falls apart.

It has been dark for a very long time. Your senses return slowly; first the copper tang of blood on your tongue, then the smell of ash and smoke, then an overall ache in your limbs that doesn’t leave immediately. After a few more moments, you manage to open your eyes, but all you see is endless blue. It takes you a while to realize that the blue you’re seeing is the sky, and you’re flat on your back to stare at it. Peter must have gotten the two of you out just before the building exploded.

Peter. You sit forward abruptly then wince. You’re lying on a patch of charred earth and grass a few paces from the ruins of the building. Large chunks of concrete and metal litter the ground around you. You suppose it’s a miracle that you haven’t been hit, but instead of concentrating on that, you’re doing your best to find Peter. You try to call his name, but the words choke on your ash-streaked tongue and never make it out.

You turn and at last see him on your other side, just within reach. 

You sigh in relief when he opens his eyes. “You alright?” 

Peter nods. “I think so. I’m alive.” 

You smile quietly. “I think that’s the most we can ask for.” 

You want to stand up, but the exhaustion of having survived the explosion catches up to you and you slump back down against the ground, dazed.

Peter frowns, crawling over to you so he can make sure you’re alright. “Everything okay?” 

You shrug. “I think so. I’m alive.” 

He smiles, reaching out a hand to brush some ash from your cheek. His hand pauses there, against the curve of your face, and you’re not sure that either one of you wants him to take it away.

You swallow hard, tasting smoke against your tongue. “You didn’t have to come out here to save me. Thank you.” 

Peter shakes his head. “Of course I did. There was never an option in which I let you go.” 

You smile shakily up at him. “I could say the same thing about you.” 

You’re fairly sure that you could lose sight of the rest of the world in Peter’s eyes, so when he leans down and kisses you, you almost don’t notice it at first.

Then it sinks in that you’re actually here and Peter is actually kissing you, so you kiss him back with everything you have. When he at last breaks away, Peter lies back down beside you, one hand reaching for yours. You think you could stay there forever, just the two of you staring up at the smoke curling up to touch that bright blue sky. The Avengers will come later, of course, to find that their test didn’t work out after all. Let them come, you think. You have everything you need right here beside you.

people who requested a part two, it’s been a while since i posted part one so sorry about that lol: @idrkwhatthisisimsorry, @luvherfairy, @pre-google

peter parker/marvel tag list: i would rescue you from a hydra infested building too @thatfangirl42​, @rogueanschel​, @namoreno​, @mycosmicparadise​, @ellobruv-blog​, @caswinchester2000​, @with-inked-solace​

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Stop calling me Gwen!" - TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

SUMMARY: Peter has been your friend since the first day of high school, always getting in trouble together. Ever since you played in your school's rendition of Michael Gow's "Away", your friends have been calling you Gwen, which leads to an interesting incident when you all enter the multiverse.

WORD COUNT: 826

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Right when you entered the room, arms full of random stuff Peter and Ned asked you to bring, the culprit himself looked up at you from some notes he had scattered on top of the table. To your surprise, he wasn't alone.

"Gwen!" Peter called out from the lab room. Upon hearing him yell your nickname, one of the other men looked at you with a bewildered expression. Something about you must have disappointed him since his expression quickly fell and the initial excitement left to be replaced by utter sadness. "I need your help."

"It's not my name," you sighed and walked towards him. "It was one school play, three years ago. Let me go, I'm begging you."

"He doesn't remember your name," MJ interjected, earning a bridling from Peter. She was just sitting on a spinning high chair, turning from one side to the other, idling and waiting for something to happen.

"I do!" he whined defensively. "It's just...it feels weird to call you that."

"Whatever," you said as you set down the pile of maybe-not-actually-rubbish on an empty table and looked at what Peter was doing. "Whatcha got there?"

"I think I'm overcomplicating it."

You leaned over his arm to see the vague blueprints written in rushed, shabby handwriting. Trying to decipher the enigmatic notes and adding some with a blunt pencil, you looked at the two strangers in the room every now and then. The taller of them sometimes looked at you too but appeared timid in his habit of avoiding your gaze. It seemed as if he had something to say like there was a burning question in his mind that he was still debating whether to ask. You didn't know if that was his intention but you started to feel a little tense. They were unfamiliar to you.

"Who are these guys, Peter?" you whispered.

"You're not gonna believe this, but they're me. Kind of. From different universes."

You stared at him for a moment with furrowed eyebrows. There was a lot to unpack in his statement and you were unsure which can of worms to open first. Each of them seemed equally bottomless.

"Like in Crisis on Two Earths?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Then who's the Evil Justice League?"

"Right, about that...We had them in Dr. Strange's basement and they, kind of, escaped."

The story was only becoming more complex and enigmatic as the metaphorical cans kept piling up and you haven't even heard its entirety yet. What the hell did he get himself into? Even better: what the hell did he do?

"Look, man, I love you and all that but you're, like, the worst superhero ever."

"Thanks," he answered with a visibly irritated expression.

You gave back the pencil to him and headed for the door, counting on the vending machine to still be working amidst another end of the world. Maybe it will even have diet Pepsi but let's not get too carried away - it's only the end of the world, not an inspection from the Department of Education.

Walking past the tall stranger, whom you have caught looking at you quite a few times by then, you noticed he was putting together a still over a burner that has been broken since you could remember. You tapped him on his shoulder and when he turned to look at you, he resembled a deer caught in the headlights.

Was his name Peter too? If they were the same person across different universes, they would have the same name, right? It's still the same guy, after all.

"This burner doesn't work, use the other one," you said as you vaguely pointed to the surface element farther to his right. He mumbled a "thanks" and began moving the half-done still.

You were about to turn around and continue your quest for the can of soda when he spoke to you:

"So...what is your name?"

"It's (Y/N). No one really calls me that, though."

"Why? It's pretty."

His comment sounded genuine and perhaps that's what made your cheeks even redder: he stated it like it was an obvious fact.

"Apparently, Gwen sticks better." You let out a defeated sigh. After three years of being called a different name, you could only shrug and carry on. No amount of correcting people ever worked.

"But (Y/N) fits better. You look like a (Y/N)."

"Do I now?" you asked with a hint of a giggle in your voice. Your amusement brought a smile to his face. "And what does a (Y/N) look like?"

He didn't answer. Peter's gaze remained in your face for a while longer before he silently returned to whatever he was doing.

Maybe that's exactly what you looked like to him - like the bright expression that wouldn't wash off his face. You didn't know it yet but it was a very humorous whim of the cosmos: that Peter, who wasn't the Peter, met a Gwen who wasn't Gwen.

____

@restingbitchsblog