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wordsinwinters · 4 years

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Then Again, Part 26 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 50,293

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

A/N: This isn’t my favorite chapter, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year and I figured if I don’t post it now, I’ll never move on to the next. Additionally, as always, I live for feedback. 😉

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 26:

(Words: 2,825)

The bus ride will probably get boring soon, or at least as long as the girls stay asleep, but even as quiet as it is, it’s almost a perfect morning. Being early (around 6:00, I think?), there’s barely any light except street lamps and car lights, but some of the clouds on the right have caught a pretty bluish purple tinge. It reminds me of that Rainbow Fish book Aunt May used to read to me as a kid. To make it better, the morning air is chilly enough that the driver turned the heaters on low so it’s wrapped-in-a-blanket-while-it-snows warm in here. Although that also might be why, apart from general dirt and old gum, the strongest smell on the bus is salty grease— since the nearest heater is under the seat Flash spilled french fries and chicken nuggets in yesterday. It could be worse, though. I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad smell and the traffic isn’t horrible. It’s not the best, but it could definitely be louder and a lot slower. The field of flowing red tail lights ahead of us is oddly comforting, like a snail-slow pasture of mechanical color.

All in all, it’s a pretty cozy start for a dreaded five hour bus ride. It’s giving me quiet time to think. So that’s where I’m at. Or should be. I got some stuff organized in my head last night even if I keep getting distracted now. Well, it was more like a couple hours ago, since I wasn’t able to get to sleep for so long after we said goodnight. But anyway, I’m trying to focus. It’s just hard, even with both of them sleeping.

From my and Ned’s spot behind them, watching the girls’ heads gently shake and bump against each other as the bus shudders through potholes is kind of calming. They seem so peaceful from this angle, like two people who’ve never pranked me and Ned to the point we were nearly suspended, or kept us awake and annoyed by asking paradoxical hypothetical questions because they know how Ned and I will argue for days if we don’t agree on an answer, or anything else like that. It’s like finding two mischievous cats sleeping, curled up on a chair. It’s easier to appreciate them when they aren’t causing chaos. But it’s not that hard to appreciate them when they are anyway.

Though Ned and I won’t admit it when they’re fully awake, seeing their heads smack into the seat in front of them each time the bus lurched to a halt at stoplights (during the first ten minutes after they’d fallen asleep) was funnier than it should’ve been. Even knowing then that we wouldn’t mention it later didn’t stop us from exchanging silent laughs when they leaned back up, muttering unintelligible complaints before settling their heads back onto one another. For the last couple stoplights before the highway, at least, we decided to be better friends. We both stood up with one leg on the floor and one knee on our own seat so we could easily hold their foreheads back each time it happened. Again, I wouldn’t admit this out loud, even to Ned, but it’s a little bit funny that Ned was a split second slower than me, so while I kept catching MJ’s head before the stop, he half-smacked Y/N’s forehead, like a really-close-to-the-floor basketball dribble, and made a wincing face each time. A lot of times. But it did stop her from colliding with the seat, and she didn’t wake up or complain.

As nice as it is with them and almost everyone else sleeping through the dark, quiet first hour of the bus trek back to New York, I am excited for her and MJ to wake up. Whenever that is. I’ve missed them.

But anyway, I really need to focus. God. I’m not doing a great job of that this morning. Apparently. So I’m focusing now. It’s like Ned said. I need to be honest with myself.

Okay.

Alright.

No distractions.

I’m going to set myself straight now, before we get back, so I can make a game plan and be more decisive and make less mistakes. Fewer? Yeah, fewer mistakes. She’s told me that half a dozen times this since she read that grammar book last summer. But that’s not important.

If I’m being honest... I think I’ve avoided the real possibility that things could work out between us because it felt too risky. And I make some dumb, impulsive choices. So that’s saying a lot. If she said no, what’s the worst that could happen? May and Ned have been asking me that for months, and it’s been so frustrating. The answer should be obvious. The worst thing wouldn’t be the rejection, it’d be if it made her uncomfortable and she broke off our friendship. Or, even if she stuck around, if our friendship changed and I had to watch her get more and more distant, knowing it was my fault and nothing would ever go back to normal.

Those were the worst — and, I thought, most probable — possibilities. For months I’ve been certain that if anything changed, everything would, and it’d all go to shit. So I kept dodging it. And dodging her before the trip. But, then, things did change this weekend. Things are changing. We fought, and it was super shitty and awful and a total nightmare fiasco, but we made up. And she seemed almost as relieved as me when we did. Now we even have this pact about spending more time together. I know it’s officially only in the name of friendship, but something’s… different. I feel it, and I think she does too. And it doesn’t seem bad. That’s the craziest part. I mean, she even kissed me last night. On the cheek, but still. “Keep it.” Maybe May’s not ridiculous: she really might feel the same way.

I’ve been texting her this morning, actually. Aunt May. I had to admit that I’m happy she forced me to do the forehead kiss thing last night. As annoyed as I was that she and Ned ganged up on me like that, I can’t dispute the results. She kissed me! Kind of. (To be fair, she did hit my mouth a little bit even if it was an accident.) At first it made me wonder if she heard any of Ned’s shout-comments before I could turn the t.v. up to cover what he was saying. But I doubt it. Even if she felt the same way, I know her too well to think she wouldn’t freak out more and enough that it’d be noticable. Yeah, no, I’d definitely have been able to tell if she’d heard him saying things like, “Nobody’s saying you have to tell her that you googled the probability of high school sweethearts getting married that time she saved your ass on that Bronte essay, but yeah, Aunt May’s right! Just ask her to come over and either talk to her or do the hair/forehead thing!” Anyway, May’s on board with her coming over a lot this week and next week and giving us some space. So are Ned and MJ. Ned said they agreed on giving us two weeks (starting tomorrow) without them hanging out after school. And who knows, if the dance goes really well, maybe it’ll be normal for us to hang out, just us, without the whole group. Because… well, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself.

I’ll admit, they’re the best friends I could ever have. All three of them.

And it’s nice to have them all here now, Ned to my left and the girls in front of us. It’s even nicer to be outside of class or the city or crazy study sessions and have had a short breather from all that (despite the shitshow before we smoothed things over and could enjoy it). To be somewhere chill together. Yesterday and today probably feel even better because the last few days, or even weeks… no— months, if I’m being honest— have had me in a kind of less than happy place. But that’s over now. We’re all here and things are finally good. I just wish the girls would wake up, especially since Ned’s back on his phone. Again.

Yesterday, everybody hung out for most of the afternoon, but being in the whole decathlon group isn’t the same as just being the four of us. Or two.

Speaking of two— Ned being away during this next week or two is going to make everything so… unfiltered. New. Without his interference and being able to talk to him as often as normal, it’ll mostly just be her and me. Nobody to distract attention or blame stuff on or help me out when I’m doing something dumb (which is often). Like, for example, last night when I maybe let my excitement get the better of me and I might’ve jumped on the bed and thrown a pillow that accidentally broke the lamp on the nightstand. While I don’t really think writing that “Bill Mr. Harrington” note with the school’s address was Ned’s best idea, it helped me not care too much, enough that I didn’t do something dumber like actually tell Mr. Harrington. It might come back to bite us, though. Still, he was genuinely helpful this morning when Flash showed up too.

While we were hanging out in the girls’ room waiting for them to finish packing, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was Mr. Harrington about to yell at me and Ned for the broken lamp, so I motioned to Ned to shut up and move closer to the head of the bed we were already sitting on where, courtesy of the wall between the bedroom and bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to see us as long as he stayed by the doorway. MJ gave us an odd glance before she got up to answer it. Her annoyed, “What are you doing here?” didn’t immediately disqualify Mr. Harrington, but the sound of Flash’s voice saying, “I, uh, brought you guys some muffins,” made me tense at the first syllable.

“The free muffins they give us for breakfast?”

MJ’s dripping sarcasm nearly made me laugh even though I couldn’t see her, but Y/N turning from her suitcase and walking over to join them killed it still in my throat.

“Nope,” he said. “They’re fancy muffins from a bakery a few miles away.”

I wanted to roll my eyes out of my skull.

She may not like him, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong about him being into her. What a dumb way to impress someone. “Fancy muffins.”

“Expensive?” MJ asked. Even without seeing her face, I could tell she was giving him the squint death stare. It’s scary to have to respond to that face if you don’t know what the right answer is.

“Yes, especially with the delivery fee,” he said, sounding prepared for the question, “but they’re from a small local place, not a chain, which I figured you guys would appreciate. Actually, I think you’d like the woman who owns it, she was super grouchy and hard to convince.”

“Convince?”

“They don’t normally deliver at 5 in the morning.”

“Oh, so you thought you could just—”

“What kind did you get?”

That’s one of the things I like about Y/N. She knows how to manage tempers and when to jump in; she has Flash and MJ down to a science. In that moment, though, I wanted MJ to fire her most confrontational questions at him with no mercy.

“Well, they’re all apology muffins—” I heard MJ scoff. Exactly. She gets it. “But I got blueberry, chocolate, obviously, coffee, cranberry orange, maple, I think that one has chicken in it or something, and banana nut.”

Ned and I turned towards each other with silent smirks at the last one. It’s a dumb joke, but under normal circumstances we’d never resist—

“Cool. Since you’ve brought so many, you can come in.”

Sometimes MJ drives me up the wall. This was one of those times.

I mentally took back my agreement with her scoff.

The three of them came into the room, and for a couple seconds, Flash didn’t see us. The girls were closer to the window than they were to the wall and the bed Ned and I were sitting on, and he didn’t look behind him. Until MJ pointed us out directly.

“You can give them some too,” she said, her expression bordering on smug. “Apology muffins, right?”

Flash froze for a second. I straightened my back. Neither Ned or I said anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”

Surprisingly, he shook his shoulders like a bug just buzzed by his head and walked over, opening a giant rectangle of a box up to us.

“Take however many you guys want.”

I stared at him, not moving. Nobody flinched. Then I realized he was tapping the side of the box with his thumb. Not in an asshole come on, hurry up way, but in an anxious way. Just as I started to reach toward the box, Y/N asked:

“Why’d you get so many of the coffee ones?”

Flash looked away at just the right second.

Did I technically cave first by reaching into the box? Yes. But did anyone see? No.

Although, I guess he technically caved by offering us the muffins in the first place. Ha. All the same, I took a blueberry one.

“They’re my dad’s favorite. I wanted to surprise him, you know? But I can’t even get a hold of.... Um, are your guys’ parents going to pick you up when we get there, or are you actually staying for school?”

“Staying.”

“All of you?”

He looked around to ask all of us, even me and Ned. We all nodded. When he looked at me, though, his eyes twitched. It’s a face I’ve gotten a lot before. He realized he said parents.

“You said these are orange cranberry?” Ned asked, pointing.

Flash nodded.

“They’re solid, though the banana nut ones are probably the best.”

As I said, under normal circumstances, like if one of the girls had said it, I would’ve laughed right then, but I’m not used to laughing around Flash. Ned, who usually follows that same rule, shook his head and grinned, if a little bit... nervously?

“Hell no!” he said, pretending to be mildly outraged. “I’m not eating banana-bust-a-nut muffins.”

A second surprise: Flash tilted his head and paused, clearly as stunned to be told a joke by Ned as the rest of us were to witness it— and laughed. So did everyone else. It was only for a few seconds, like literally three quick seconds, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, all of us were laughing with Flash. It stopped almost as soon as it started.

Tension crept back in soon so he left pretty quickly after that with an awkward, “See you guys in a few.” Thank god.

The girls finished tidying their room and going over the homework that’s due today (which we did last week since we knew we’d never get it done on the trip), before forcing me and Ned into the hallway so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t need to check our room for us and potentially find the broken lamp.

And then, pretty soon, we ended up on the warm bus, loaded in with everyone else. It seemed like everybody but Ned and I were too quiet and sleepy and squinty to be able to talk much before dozing off or staring blankly out the window or scrolling social media on their phones, the latter two options leading to the first in most cases. At this point, I think Ned, Flash, and I are the only ones still awake.

I’m going to work at tolerating him. As long as he doesn’t cross any lines with anybody from now on, I won’t bait him either. (Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of that, especially recently.) I mean, his comment about his dad was hard to miss. And even when he said it, it wasn’t a shock. Everyone in our grade at some point has had to listen to Flash’s rambling excuses for his parents ignoring or forgetting to show up for school events. Maybe being a dick is just hereditary for him. Or a family tradition.

I don’t remember how I got so off track. Where was I before? Oh yeah. Risk. Possibilities. The almost-worst case scenario that turned out not so bad. It’s been a messy weekend with plenty of re-evaluating, but the point is simple: I think I’ve got to give a few new things a try, and I’m excited to have a chance over the next couple weeks.

Next update: God only knows.

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ambivalent-anarchy · 5 years

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The First 'I Love You'

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x stark!reader

Warning: None

Prompt: “Are you sure you love me?” “Who else could I love?”

Requested by: @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts

Summary- kinda goes without saying. Peter says his first 'I love you'.

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May Parker always kept a watchful eye over her nephew's relationships.

Aside from the fact that it was to be protective, it was like a little game for her. Trying to catch and determine what parts of how Peter loved were like her or Ben or his parents or just himself.

He was always incredibly touchy, like Ben had been.

And he loved to give gifts. That was May's thing.

He was a bit overprotective. Ben.

And he definitely was the jealous type. May.

Pet names were the big one that tuned May in to start watching for more in the first place. The first time she ever heard Peter calling you 'sweetheart' over the phone, May almost spat out her water. 'Sweetheart' was one of Ben's favorites.

And yeah okay Peter definitely had way more of Ben's love traits than May's. But she didn't mind. Quite the opposite.

But there was only one thing that held potential to being a problem.

May had brushed it off before due to her nephew's persistent bashfulness at first. But it really did seem now that one of Ben's most prevalent habits was about to show itself inside Peter at any moment.

Ben was never one to be patient with something or someone that he truly, deeply cared about.

If he wanted something, no matter how hard he tried to give it time, it'd just thread on him until he had to do something about it.

Which was why he was the first to say 'I love you.' And thankfully, May was ready to say it back when he did.

And May desperately wanted it to be the same for Peter.

And she didn't want to be judgmental, but she knew you were a Stark. And everything came easily to Starks, except one thing.

She'd seen how you were on the first date with Peter. How intimidated he'd been. How much your guard was up all the time.

She'd known how long it finally took you to say yes to being his girlfriend. How many times he had to ask and get an 'I need to work on myself first' or an 'I really do like you, but I'm not ready yet.'

She saw how much it broke Peter's heart even though he tried to stay hopeful. And how ecstatic he was when you finally decided that you could say yes.

You'd made lots of progress since then, but even now, with how comfortable you were with him, you were still cautious. It was almost as if you expected to be hurt. That at some moment Peter would pull off a mask and show you a 'true self'.

Normally, she'd try to sneakily butt in and ease your worries, but she knew it wasn't her place. You'd have to find out on your own that Peter would never hurt you.

And she could see that Peter was reaching that point that Ben often would. When there was only one thing on his mind and it would dominate his thoughts and it was like he was a balloon all too ready to pop.

"Give her time, Pete," May said one day out of the blue, causing Peter's head to snap up. "I know what you've been thinking about lately, and I just wanna tell you to give her some time. Trust your instinct."

Her nephew smiled, amazed at how well she could read him. He nodded. "Okay."

And true to his word, he waited until he felt the time was right.

He was walking you home, a lovesick smile on his face as you ranted passionately about some stupid tv show.

Your eyes held so much joy and wonder. He just wanted that to go on forever.

When he was little, he always thought it was corny when his uncle Ben would sit him down and tell him about his first 'I love you' with May. But now, he understood. Because this was a feeling that everyone should want to feel.

"Guess it's time to go, Pete," you said. "Thanks for tonight-"

"-I love you."

He said it confidently the first time. So sure and so certain that he wanted you to hear it.

But when you hadn't caught what he said exactly and wanted him to repeat it, it all went away. What if it wasn't what you wanted to hear? What if you weren't ready to say it back?

He looked down at his shoes. "I-i, um.." Taking a deep breath, he looked back into your eyes and said it again. "I said I love you..."

You didn't say it back immediately, and that really threw him for a loop. Instead, you shifted and looked anywhere but to him.

"I-i mean, you don't have to s-say it back. That's totally fine," he rambled. "I-i just s-sorta wanted you..to-to know..."

"Are you sure you love me?," you said, your eyes becoming a bit glossy.

You'd never heard those words spoken like that before. You never thought that you ever would.

A little confused, Peter scrunched his eyebrows together but smiled. "Who else could I love?," he chuckled a bit. "I mean, I do love Ned, and Aunt May, and Mr. Stark, and MJ... but none of them this way.. not like this," he confirmed for you.

He'd never seen such uncertainty in your eyes before. You held yourself and started to back away a bit, cluing to him that he'd done something wrong.

Maybe you weren't ready to say it back he figured. Maybe you wouldn't be for a long time. But he knew right then and there, that he wanted nothing more than for you to be, and he'd wait forever for it to happen.

"Look, [Y/N]. I'm sorry," he began, tearing up a bit, but there was no way he was gonna be crying in front of you. "You probably don't-"

He was shut up when he felt your arms tightly wrapped around him.

"I love you too," you said back, fully crying tears of joy at this point. "I love you so much Peter!"

At that, he started to cry too. You actually said it back. This was perfect. You were perfect.

"Full warning," he said, pushing back so that he could see your entire tear stained, doey eyed, perfect face. "Now that I've got you, I'm never letting you go."

All you did in response was smile widely and pull him closer. It was a confirmation of what the two of you had done. And neither of you would ever forget it.

"You're so precious, baby," he softly whispered into your ear. "I'll love y-"

"Um, excuse me why is my daughter crying?," a rough voice broke in.

The two of you looked to the side to see your father at the door with his arms crossed. He looked to Peter's face. "Oh and you're crying too," he noted. "And you're both smiling- Oh my God you didn't ask to marry her did you?"

"Their vitals show that they are happy, Mr. Stark," F.R.I.D.A.Y. broke in. "If you would like, I can play back the last five mintues recorded from the door for you; starting with the words 'I love you'. That phrase seems to have started this ordeal."

You and Peter looked to each other before you both burst into laughter. "That little snitch," you said.

Your father rolled his eyes. "Alright continue your little.. thing," he said. Then he pointed to Peter. "But you're not allowed in her bedroom tonight, underoos. Too many emotions going around and I don't trust it. You two stay in the living room."

"Oh-uh," Peter scratched the back of his head. "I actually better be on my way home for dinner. Have a nice night, Mr. Stark." He looked to you and his blush deepened. "Bye sweetheart. Love you."

"Love you too," you responded, to which your dad made vomit sounds as he walked into the building.

That night, Peter literally skipped down the sidewalk all the way home, humming and having spontaneous bouts of laughter.

Walking into his home, he quickly yelled out.

"May! May c'mere!"

"What's up?," she yelled back. "Did the date go well? What happened? Oh my gosh are you crying?"

Peter shook his head slightly. "No no no no I'm just...so happy right now!"

He ran to hug her, smiling brightly.

"She said it May... I told her and she said it back."

You walked into the game room after having a squealing fit in your room.

You walked in and was immediately met with... applause?

The entire team was sitting there looking at you and there was a cake... what?

You couldn't hear everyone because they were speaking all at once. It wasn't until you were patted on the shoulder and turned to see Rhodey standing there. "Hey kid..make sure you two have a condom when you finally...do it."

Your face scrunched up. "What?!"

"Yeah, Tony showed us the footage," Bruce said, appearing on the other side of you.

"He- what?!"

Bucky laughed, taking a big cut out of the cake. "Peter probably would've snuck into the bedroom with you too, if Tony hadn't cockblocked you. But yeah we threw you a little love party."

You blushed profusely as Sam swung an arm around you. "Hey Steve! That was a language word!"

Steve rolled his eyes and then looked to you. "Congrats [Y/N]."

"Okay, this is officially weird and I'm going to bed."

"Okay but check the room for any spiders first!," Rhodes yelled out, earning a middle finger as you walked away.

When you made it to your room, you threw yourself onto the bed with a sigh.

"He loves me...he actually loves me."

#peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #spiderman x you #spiderman mcu #spiderman fic #spiderman x reader #spiderman #marvel x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel

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ladycatofwinterfell · 4 years

Text

Consequences, part 5

Catelyn and Ned decided to walk different ways after their relationship of three years, for good reasons. Ever since that Catelyn have kept a secret from him. When she one day, ten years later, decides that she should tell him they meet for the first time since the breakup. It takes them no time at all to fall back into old habits. The problem is that Ned is married, and that Catelyn is still keeping that damn secret. The only thing they can be sure of is that actions have consequences.

This feels incredibly messy, but I hope it’s worth the read. Enjoy!

“You look terrible” Barbrey Dustin said as she sat down next to her.

Barbrey disliked her for some reason she had never really been able to figure out. And it was easy to tell. She had sounded quite gleeful when she stated how terrible Catelyn looked.

“I’m aware” Catelyn said, not looking up from her phone.

Why didn’t Cersei reply when she needed her? She was usually so unnaturally quick to answer any texts or calls, but she seemed to be stubbornly set on not answering. Catelyn just needed to vent to someone, talk to someone. Get out her frustration. She had not slept a second that night. It had been very hard with everything that was spinning around in her head. It had not taken long. Only a few minutes. And then she had made sure that child number two would grow up without parents in a relationship as well. In the moment it had felt like he had no right to say what he had said. But afterwards, when she had calmed dow, she had just felt terrible. At least the baby would have a father.

“Well, what happened to you?”

“None of your business, Dustin.”

She really didn’t have patience for Barbrey Dustin in that moment. She had enough on her plate as it was. She needed no more. Sometimes she was ungodly tired of her colleagues.

“There’s no need to be rude, Tully.”

“I’m not rude.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

Catelyn had never even wanted to talk to her, she had forced a conversation upon her. She sighed and looked up at Barbrey.

“Better now?”

“Much.”

What has happened now, darling?

Finally!

Too much. Meet me after work?

Robb wouldn’t be happy with her coming home later than she had said, but she had to talk to Cersei. He had tried to get her to tell him what it was all morning. She had been up early and made him pancakes, mostly to prove to herself that she could, but also to make him happy. In a way it was a sort of apology for not letting him have a father, but he didn’t know that. And as they ate he had tried to guess what it was. He had not guessed that it was a sibling, but she supposed that was because he didn’t think it was possible.

I can’t today, I'm with the kids. Tomorrow?

Of course. Why had she not expected that? With her luck she should have seen it coming. But tomorrow was better than nothing, she supposed.

Sounds great

It definitely wasn’t great. It was quite terrible actually. She was supposed to feel happy. She was pregnant, she would have a child. Robb had been the light in her life for so long, and she would have double that light soon. But still everything felt very dark. The rest of the day went painstakingly slowly. She taught her classes, did her job. And she wanted to hit every person that smiled at her. How could they smile at her when everything was going so terribly? Of course they didn’t know about it. They had no idea about how she had started a fight with the father of her children and the only person she had ever loved. She was a sad person. When she came home she was exhausted, ready to go to bed and sleep away the rest of her life. But Robb was waiting for her in the hallway, smiling so brightly. He was almost bouncing with excitement. And for the first time that day she felt happy. It would be fine. It would be. Just Robb’s smile was enough to make her believe that.

“Can you tell me now?” he asked.

“Can I come inside first?” Catelyn said.

He unwillingly backed away and watched silently as she put down her bag and took off her jacket. Her very own little bundle of joy. Soon she would have two of them. And she looked forward to it very much in that moment. She loved her children. Both the one before her and the one she had yet to meet.

“Go to the living room, I will be with you in a moment” she told him. “I promise.”

He sighed very dramatically and made his way to the living room. She looked after him. He looked so much like her. There was almost no trace of Ned in him. He had her hair, her eyes, her face. Maybe Ned would become more apparent when he got older. She hoped not. It was a lot easier that way. And she hoped she would have the same luck with the baby. She hoped the baby would look like her too. But before she talked to Robb she had to get some coffee. She had decided that she would try to lower her caffeine intake significantly for the sake of the baby. But her body was screaming in protest. And her head screamed the loudest. She had not had coffee for breakfast and she had not had coffee during any of her breaks. Which meant a headache straight from the seven hells. Her colleagues had probably suspected something was wrong when she had not been seen with a mug of coffee at all that day. She had come to the realization that she drank a lot of coffee. But one cup couldn’t hurt. She needed that. So it was a huge relief when she finally got her coffee. Everything immediately felt a lot better. And then she went out to Robb, who waited impatiently in the living room.

“That took forever!” he whined.

She sat down and sipped her coffee.

“I’m sorry.”

“Can you tell me now?”

“Okay, but first you need to promise me that you won’t tell anyone until I say you can” she said. “Can you do that for me?”

Catelyn really didn’t want it to spread too far before she got things under control. And losing it would be even harder if everyone already knew.

“Yes, I promise!”

“Pinky promise!”

He did that and then he looked at her expectantly.

“Do you remember what we talked about a few weeks back?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“That day when you were at the aquarium with Uncle Edmure?”

He nodded.

“The day after, when you were going to bed, we talked about something. Can you remember what it was?”

Robb’s face lit up.

“Did you ask Ned to be your boyfriend?” he asked.

She had to keep herself from crying. All he wished for was a dad. And he had been so close to having one without even knowing if. Had she not said it he would have had a dad. Ned would have came to them. But then they had got into a fight instead and there had been no dad for Robb. She had ruined that for him. She had told Ned that Robb was fine without a father. But clearly he didn’t think so. Why had she done what she did? Why could she never make the right decision?

“No. It’s not that, but it’s close” she said, pulling herself together.

Robb frowned for a moment.

“Then I don’t know.”

She took a deep breath.

“You will have a sibling, Robb. I’m pregnant.”

At first he looked at her like he could comprehend what she had said. But then his face lit up once more. She didn’t believe she had ever seen a happier person. His smile. Oh gods, his smile. It could have made even the saddest of people happy. It really did put the stars to shame. She just had time to put down her mug before he launched himself at her and hugged her tightly. With a laugh she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back. Her son, her wonderful boy.

“You’re the best mom in the world!” he said. “Is it a sister? Please say it’s a sister!”

“I don’t know yet, sweetheart. It’s way too early to tell.”

“Okay. But when you know will you tell me?” he asked seriously.

“Of course. I will tell you everything as soon as I know.”

He wriggled out of her embrace and looked at her skeptically.

“But you said you needed a boyfriend to have a baby. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No. But I think we’ll be fine just the three of us.”

“I’ll help you with the baby, I promise.”

She didn’t deserve him. She really didn’t.

~*~

His blood boiled just from thinking about it. What exactly had given her the idea that it would just be fine to keep him from knowing about their child? Their son. That boy, Robb, was his son. And he had not known it. She had raised their son without him. What had he done to her that made her decide that they were better off without him? And then she had the nerve to get upset because he was angry about it. Of course he was angry about it!

“Ned? Where did you go?”

His sister looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“If I tell you something, will you promise that you won’t tell Ashara?” he asked.

He needed to talk about it with someone that could assure him of that he wasn’t being unreasonable. What if he was unreasonable? What if she was right? No, that wasn’t possible. She had no right to do that. He wondered what had been going on in her head that lead her to doing what she had done.

“Why would I tell Ashara anything?” Lyanna said. “I haven’t spoken to her since your wedding.”

“Because if you were a good person you would tell her.”

“If you want to talk to a good person you should go to Benjen.”

Benjen would have gotten Ashara on the phone in about half a second. Ned loved his little brother, but that man really couldn’t stand doing something morally questionable.

“Is that a promise of that you won’t tell Ashara?”

He had to be sure. He really had to be sure. He didn’t want Ashara to hear it from someone else. He needed to talk to her himself. Because he would not leave Catelyn to take care of that child alone. No matter what she said. He wouldn’t go into a relationship with her, he would never forgive her, but he would be damned if they didn’t share custody. The baby was his, no matter if she wanted it to be or not.

“Yeah, can you tell me now?”

“Well, first of all, I’m aware of that what I have done is not good. And I’m a bad person–“

“I get it, you’re terrible, now get on with it!”

Lyanna was always so supportive.

“Okay, I have been seeing someone outside of my marriage.”

That made his sister laugh. And he immediately felt regret over that he had said anything. What had he honestly expected? It was Lyanna, he should have known.

“I knew it would happen” she said. “It’s Cat, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“She’s the only one you would break your wedding vows for. The only one you would be too impatient to get a divorce before seeing. How long has it been going on?”

Ned Stark was apparently a lot more predictable than he had realized.

“Six weeks, I think. Or, well, we saw each other a couple of times during one week and then I heard from her again last night. And that’s where the main problem began.”

“Do tell.”

“She called me and was very upset about something. So I went to her, and I found out that she’s pregnant. And she told me that she wanted to keep it, and I wanted that too. And then out of nowhere she told me that her son, Robb, is mine.”

She had kept that secret for ten years. But he felt that he had a right to tell his sister about his son. That he apparently had.

“I thought that was an open secret” Lyanna said.

“What?”

“I thought you knew. I mean, many have figured it out. She had a baby not even nine months after you broke up and refused to talk about the baby’s father. It was quite obviously you. Still a dick move to not tell you about it though, you have every right to be pissed.”

That was a very mild way of putting it. It wasn’t like she had kept a small secret. It was a child, for gods’ sake! And he had been in that apartment, he had looked at that child, unknowing of that it was his son. He supposed the boy didn’t know anything either. The poor child.

“I just don’t understand why. What did I do that made her feel so bad that she wanted to keep our son from me?”

“You left her, Ned. You were the one who broke up with her. And then you moved. It doesn’t justify anything, she had absolutely no right to keep your son from you. And you have every right to be angry about it. But in her head it probably sounded like an okay plan. I guess she had seen the breakup coming because even I know that you fought a lot and rarely agreed on things, but suddenly just ditching her was probably not what she had expected.”

He wished he could have read her mind, just to get a bit of understanding. At the moment he didn’t understand anything at all, he just felt angry. What Lyanna said sounded reasonable, but it still didn't feel right. He had broken up with Catelyn because that had been the best thing to do for both pf them. He had loved Catelyn, but it wouldn't have worked in the long run.

For a moment he had been happy about that they would have a child together after so many years. And then he found out that she had done that to him.

“She got angry at me when I questioned it” he said. “We got into a fight. And it ended with that she told me that I am no longer welcome in her home.”

She had also said that he was a bad father. That had almost been the worst. She had no say in that when she had kept her son’s father a secret. She was such a hypocrite.

“Defense mechanism” Lyanna chuckled. “I do the same. It feels good to shift the blame when you know that you have fucked up. Anyways, what are you gonna do?”

“I will be there for my child. Robb might technically be mine, but I will never be his father. It has been too long. Catelyn said it, he has no father, and I won’t try to be something I’m not. But the baby. I will be a father for the baby. No matter if Catelyn likes it or not, this is our child, we’ll do this together.”

He would have to cooperate for the sake of the baby. Their baby. He caught himself wishing that it would look like Catelyn. She was a beautiful woman, despite everything, the baby would be lucky to have her looks.

“And what are you gonna do with your wife?”

“Divorce. Catelyn might be a mess of a woman and I don’t think I have ever been angrier at anyone ever, but she made me realize that I can’t stay in this marriage” he said. “Ashara is fantastic, but I can’t stay with her. It’s not the right thing to do.”

Lyanna smiled.

“Look at you making reasonable decisions.”

“Look at me making reasonable decisions. I will talk to Catelyn soon. When she has calmed down a bit.”

He was also angry, but he would never forgive her so drawing it out was only unnecessary. It was better to have it done quickly. The only thing he worried about was that making reasonable decisions would probably be a lot harder when he saw her again. How was he supposed to look that woman in the eye and come to an agreement about how they would do with the baby after what she had said and done?

“Good. Just to make it clear though, your wife has every right to kick your ass. You’ve been a shitty husband recently.”

“I’m aware.”

“And don’t fall into bed with Catelyn again.”

There wasn’t even a small chance of that because just thinking of her made him so angry that he didn’t know what to do.

“There’s no risk.”

“Well, I suppose that if you solved your issues there would be no problem with it. So feel free to do it after you have talked it out.”

“Lyanna!”

~*~

“Oh you look like you need some wine” Cersei said once they had sat down in her kitchen.

She did look like she needed some wine. Unfortunately alcohol brought along the risk of something being wrong with her baby. And she did want her baby to be healthy.

“First of all, it’s a week day, and drinking during week days is heavily frowned upon. Second of all, I can’t drink.”

“Are you pregnant or something?” Cersei scoffed.

It was just a joke, Cersei didn’t at all think that she was pregnant. That was what she always said when Catelyn denied a drink. But the look on her face when Catelyn just got quiet and looked at her was shocked to say the least.

“Wait, are you really pregnant?”

“Yes” Catelyn sighed. “I’m pregnant.”

"With a baby?"

"What else would it be? Of course it's a baby!"

“So are we happy about it or not?”

Excellent question. She was happy about it, couldn’t wait to have another baby. But she had made some not very great decisions and had therefore managed to get into a fight with the father. She had thought of it even more and had come to the conclusion that she was terrible. She had said terrible things and done terrible things. He would never forgive her. She couldn’t even ask it of him. If it had been the other way around and he had asked her to forgive him she probably would have committed a murder.

“We’re happy about the baby. It’s the rest that we’re not very happy about.”

“Congratulations! Okay, so tell me about the rest and why we are not very happy about it.”

“Well, I don’t think I need to tell you who the father is.”

“The same as last time, how fun” Cersei smiled.

“Yes, it’s– wait, I’ve never told you who Robb’s father is.”

Cersei laughed and shook her head. It made Catelyn very nervous. She had not told anyone. Only Ned. How did Cersei know? Had Ned actually told people? And it had spread? Oh no. Oh fuck.

“You didn’t need to, it was obvious. Were you not aware of what an open secret this is?”

An open secret? Apparently she had not been as discreet as she thought she had been. She didn’t appreciate the thought of that everyone knew though. Not at all.

“I wasn’t. And neither was he.”

“Oohhh, did you tell him?”

“I didn’t mean to” Catelyn said. “I was just going to tell him about the baby. And then he started talking about leaving his wife and I panicked and told him too much.”

“So your baby daddy is angry at you?”

“He was angry. And then I got angry back, because once more, I panicked, and in the heat of the moment I said some absolutely terrible things. So he’s not angry, he’s furious and he hates me.”

The look on Cersei’s face was one Catelyn had never seen before and that made her worried. It was bad, in other words. Very bad. If even Cersei disapproved of it, it was very very very bad.

“Yeah, that’s not great.”

Talking about it didn’t make it feel better. It only felt worse. She hated herself a bit. Why had she decided that throwing more fuel on the fire was a great idea? Why had she decided to hurt him more? She didn’t want him to hurt. She wanted him to be happy. So why had she acted like a petty child?

“I don’t even know what I was doing. I had no reason to get upset, he had every right to be angry with me. But for some reason I couldn’t handle that he told me that what I did was wrong. Even though I knew it was wrong, and I regretted it very much.”

“Might I ask about what you said to him?”

She felt herself blushing and looked down at the table. It had been terrible enough the first time, she really had no wish to repeat it.

“He accused me of having hurt my son by denying him a father, and I responded with that maybe Robb was better off that way. And he asked if I meant that he was a bad father. And I told him that maybe I thought he was.”

Cersei actually frowned when she looked up again. Yeah, she was screwed.

“That probably did some damage” she said slowly.

That was absolutely one way of putting it. Catelyn was ready to cry. She wished everything would just disappear. All she wanted was for her baby to have a stable family. A safe home where he or she could be happy. Cersei reached over the table and laid a hand on top of one of Catelyn’s.

“Are you sure of that having this baby is a good idea?” she asked and she sounded genuinely worried. “You’re not old, this is not your last chance.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I have a little less than eight months to try to patch things up with Ned enough to cooperate with the parenting thing.”

They would be no more than parents to the same child. She had made sure of that, even though it had not been intentional. And that was fine, as long as it worked with the child. She was just happy they would have some sort of contact. And she would have opportunity to try and set things right. Because she would.

“It seems very messy. Maybe a child is not really the thing you need right now. I will support you no matter what you choose to do, of course, but I want you to really think it through. When we talked about it a while back it sounded like what you wanted was a partner to have it all with.”

Or a child was exactly what she needed.

“I have thought it through. I want it. And Robb is already picking out names.”

They would work it out. They would never be what they had been before, but they could probably manage to take care of the baby. That she was sure of. Even though she wasn't sure of much else.

“Then I’m happy for you.”

The smile was back on Cersei’s face.

“Thank you.”

“Do you know what names Robb is thinking of?”

He had already decided on what it would be named if it was a girl. Sansa. And she had promised that she would make sure of that Ned was aware of that there would be no debate surrounding the name. If it was a girl her name would be Sansa. He was still deciding on what it would be named if it was a boy though. But he would pick that name too. There would be no debate about that either.

“Sansa, if it’s a girl.”

“Sansa” Cersei repeated. “It’s cute.”

“It is, I like it a lot” Catelyn agreed. “I think that’s what it will be.”

“Are you hoping for a girl?”

“Yes. It doesn't really matter, but Robb really wants a little sister.”

A little sister, a daughter. Sansa.

~*~

It would have been better if she had been angry when he told her that he wanted to divorce. He wouldn’t have felt quite as terrible about it if she hadn’t been accepting. She was accepting. She actually just sighed. There was nothing more about it. It only took them a few very undramatic minutes of conversation to come to the agreement that their marriage was over. Ned couldn’t really put words to how he felt. It wasn’t quite relief. But in a way it was. They had had some good years together, but he wasn’t sad about that it was over. And Ashara didn’t seem to be that upset either. But of course he had not told her about the rest of it. Because that would probably upset her.

“Well, there is nothing I can do. I’m just glad you told me before it got bad.”

It wasn’t bad. It probably never would have become bad. But at the same time they couldn’t continue. It didn’t feel right at all.

“I wish you everything good in the world, Ashara. “But I can’t give you that. So I think it’s better if we end this here.”

She looked at him and if felt like she was seeing right through him. That just by looking at him she could see everything he had done. Or maybe it just seemed that way because he was well aware of all the ways he had wronged her.

“There’s something you haven’t told me” she stated.

“Yes, there is” he confirmed. “And I want you to know that I won’t ask you to forgive me for it, because it is unforgivable.”

“It’s that red headed lady from a while back, isn’t it?” she asked. “What was her name again?”

The complete lack of anger in her voice startled him. There wasn’t any emotion at all in her voice. Just acceptance. Why couldn’t she be angry with him? It would have been easier if she had been angry with him. But she wasn’t. She seemed to handle it perfectly. She was perfect. And still he had let her down. She did deserve a lot better.

“Catelyn. Her name is Catelyn.”

Ashara shook her head and smiled. It wasn’t a smile of happiness, it was a smile filled with frustration. She was angry. That was just her way of being angry. Her rage was a calm one. A silent one. But it was just as dangerous as Catelyn’s storm.

“I should have known. The moment you looked at her I should have known.”

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“You’re an ass” she said. “I wish I could kick you out of the house right now. But I won’t, for Jon’s sake. I hope you’re happy with her though, so that this wasn’t all for nothing.”

She would definitely kick him out once he was finished. Because, gods, there was more. There was the baby. As if just cheating wasn’t bad enough. He had always believed himself to be a decent person, in the last weeks he had proven that he was a bad person and an even worse husband.

“I’m not leaving you for her, there won’t be anything between us. And I’m not done yet.”

“Are there more than her? Are you not leaving me for her, but for someone else?”

“Not like that.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

Telling her about Robb was unnecessary. That had nothing to do with it. But she would get to hear about the baby sooner or later anyway, and it was better that she heard it from him there and then. So that she could be spared from it later.

“Catelyn is pregnant. And she wants to have the baby.”

“You got her knocked up? You better take care of that child. I hate her, but if you cheat on me and then leave her alone in the mess you helped create I’ll have no choice but to kick your ass.”

He did deserve that. Very much. But he would take care of the child. It was his child just as much as Jon was.

“I will ” he said.

“Good” Ashara sighed. “At least you have some sort of redeeming feature. Gods, I wish murder was legal.”

“I don’t think anyone would blame you if you did it.”

“Probably not. So now I will take a walk to calm down a bit so that I can be sure of that I won’t kill you in your sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.”

“You do that.”

~*~

“Dad will disinherit you” was what Edmure had to say about it.

Catelyn snorted.

“I’m pretty sure he disinherited me after Robb, so there’s no need to worry about that. And I think Mom will advocate for actually letting me inherit at least something.”

Her father had not been very happy about that she would have a son even though she hadn’t been in a relationship. He had tried to bribe her into telling him who the father was and failed. But from the way he liked to spoil Robb rotten it wasn’t easy to tell his disdain for her son’s status as a bastard. Her mother had not been too hard about it though, she had actually been very supportive.

“I find it very funny that his golden child ended up being such a disappointment” Edmure chuckled.

“All three of us are disappointments, Ed.”

If anything she was probably the least disappointing of her father’s children. It was hard to believe, but she actually thought that it was true.

“The difference with you is that he had hope for you.”

“I have a finished education. That’s more than you can say.”

“I’m married. Beat that.”

“Yeah, but I have given him a grandchild and if I’m not unlucky there will be one more.”

“Outside of marriage though. Important point.”

Just as she was about to answer that the doorbell rang. She was definitely not expecting anyone so it was probably a friend of Robb’s. But the door to Robb’s room stayed shut so it seemed like he wasn’t expecting anyone either.

“Wait a minute” she told Edmure.

She went to the door, opened it. And almost froze when she saw Ned outside. She had known that he would come, but she had not expected him to come so soon. She had thought that he would take longer after what she had said and done. But there he was.

“What are you doing here?” was all she could get out.

Last time she head seen him she had been so angry that she couldn’t find words for it. But at the moment she just felt ashamed. She couldn't even imagine what he was feeling.

“You’re pregnant with my child and I thought that maybe we should talk about it.”

“Catelyn?” Edmure shouted from the living room. “Who is it?”

She turned back to Ned.

“It’s a bad time right now. Can we take it another day?”

Ned looked at her for a second.

“I would really like to take this now.”

She would have to kick Edmure out, in other words.

“Fine” she sighed.

He came inside and she went back to Edmure.

“You need to leave” she told him.

“Why?”

“Because I have more important things to do.”

That grin that she hated so passionately immediately turned up on his face. Was he aware of how incredibly punchable his face was when he did that?

“Hello, Ned!” he called out.

It took about half a second and then Robb’s door opened and he poked his head out.

“Is Ned here?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes, Ned is here” she said. “But you need to stay in your room.”

“Why?”

“We need to talk alone for a bit. You can come out soon, I promise.”

Edmure laughed as he got up from the couch.

“While he’s at home? You have no shame, do you?”

“Mom, what does he mean?”

Catelyn wanted to sink through the floor. She could feel herself blushing. If it was with embarrassment or with anger at Edmure she didn’t know. It was probably a bit of both. She had not told Edmure about the fight, therefore his... reaction. She still wanted to murder him though.

“Edmure, please, for gods’ sake” she said. “Just leave.”

He had come there to pick up a scarf that Roslin had forgotten when they had dinner there a week earlier. But of course he had stayed longer than necessary because that’s what he very often did. He just never left.

“But what did he mean?” Robb asked again.

“I meant nothing, Robb” Edmure said. “Now listen to your mother.”

That clearly didn’t satisfy Robb, but he accepted it anyway. And for that Catelyn was very thankful.

“Fine. Bye, Uncle Edmure!”

“Bye, Robb.”

And then Robb closed the door again. Edmure exchanged a few words with Ned as he left, but she couldn’t hear what it was. Probably unnecessary nonsense if Catelyn knew her brother. He was full of unnecessary nonsense.

“Why did you so desperately need to talk about this now?” she asked when Ned came into the living room.

It was very annoying that he thought that he had a right to come to her home and demand her time. Not that she had been doing anything important, but still.

“I was afraid of that if I didn't do it now I wouldn’t be able to bring myself back anytime soon.”

“And why is that?”

“Just looking at you is hard.”

She had to bite her tongue in order to hold back the ten different stupid responses that immediately popped up in her head. She had spent way too much time with Edmure.

“I understand. And I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?” he asked.

“I am. I know that it won’t make anything better, but I am sorry. Very sorry.”

It was true. She was sorry. She shouldn’t have acted the way she did and she was aware of it. But no apology in the world would make up for it. Unfortunately.

“That’s always something” Ned said dryly.

She sat in an armchair, but he seemed determined to stay on his feet.

“Have you spoken to Ashara?” she asked.

“Yes. She’s planning murder.”

“As she should.”

“As she should” he repeated. “But it’s decided. We are going to divorce.”

“Good for her.”

Catelyn knew absolutely nothing about that woman, but everyone deserved better than what Ned had given her. She was also officially a home wrecker. Maybe Edmure had a point in saying that she was a disappointment.

“I guess you will want the baby with you the first months” Ned began.

“There will be no discussion about that” she confirmed. “You can come visit, but she’ll live with me.”

“That’s reasonable. Should we take a week each after that?”

She wished it could have been some other way. She wished she could have had her daughter with her always. But Ned was also her parent. And he also had a right to see her and take care of her.

“I’ll have to agree to that.”

Catelyn really didn’t like the feeling of that they were in some sort of business meeting. Negotiating terms for an important affair. In a way that was what they were doing, she supposed. And it was very important. But she didn’t like the formality. And she didn’t look forward to taking care of an infant child on her own again. She was perfectly capable of doing it, but that didn’t mean that she would like it. She would have to though, unless...

“But what if we did something completely different?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Ned asked, sounding very suspicious.

Well, he had every right to be. He could shoot it down if he thought it was a bad idea. He probably would think it was a bad idea. He wouldn't want to be closer to her than necessary. But she could at least put forward a suggestion, there was no rule against that.

“I know you hate my guts, but what if we lived together purely for the sake of helping each other with her?” she said, beginning to realize just how crazy he though she was. “Hear me out, I’ve done the whole taking care of a small child alone thing, and it’s extremely draining. Maybe it’s good to be two.”

“Purely for the sake of the baby?” Ned asked, and he seemed to actually consider it.

Maybe it hadn’t been a terrible idea, after all.

“Yes. Nothing else. Just to make it easier.”

Robb would love that. Living with Ned. It wouldn’t matter to him that Ned wasn’t her boyfriend, as long as he could have a dad. Ned probably wouldn’t object to that. And it would give the baby a more stable home the first years or so. It would be good for her.

“Will you give me some time to consider?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

“I suppose it’s too early to talk about the rest.”

“A bit, yeah. But at least we have a few things clear. I’m sure that by the time we can meet her we’ll have it all fixed.”

“You keep saying ‘her’ and ‘she’, we don’t know if it’s a girl yet” Ned said.

“No” she said and smiled. “But Robb and I are hoping for a girl. He has already picked a name. You’ll have no say in that.”

Ned snorted and she thought that she could see the hint of a smile in his eyes. That was always a step forward. At least he didn’t look at her with burning hatred anymore. She didn’t dare to hope for much, but maybe the future was a bit brighter, after all.

“Can I know what that name is?” he asked.

“Sansa.”

“Sansa” he said. “I like it.”

“Good. Because that will be your daughter’s name.”

“And if it’s a boy?” he asked.

Robb had wanted to pick that name too, but they had to think of the rest of thier dysfunctional little family.

“I might be able to convince Robb to let Jon pick the name if it’s a boy.”

“I’m sure Jon would be very happy to do that.”

“How has he taken it?”

She had not thought much of Jon, but she did then. And she pitied the boy. She had broken up his parents’ marriage. One day, when he was older, she would have to apologize for that. But maybe a half sibling was a bit of a comfort. Or maybe he hated it. He probably would.

“We haven’t told him yet” Ned said, and suddenly he seemed like he had the weight of the world upon his shoulders. “But he’s too little to understand more than that Ashara and I will split. It will make him upset, but it will probably get even worse when he’s older and actually understands.”

“He’ll hate me” she said.

She didn’t feel particularly sad about it, she had no relation at all to that child. But he would also have to stand out with her, because she would be the mother of his half sibling. The poor boy. She had not really reflected upon what her relationship with Ned had done to others. But she understood more and more with every passing day. And she had realized that she had been a happier person before.

“Maybe. He’ll probably hate me too.”

“I suppose it’s only what we deserve.”

“Yes.”

They looked at each other, and Catelyn found that she couldn’t quite turn her eyes away. They did deserve it. They deserved to face what they had created with their own questionable decisions. But at least they would face it together. As it was supposed to be. She did love him. But he hated her. And that was torture, but she would have to live with it. Both of them jumped when Robb threw open the door to his room and came out.

“Is he Sansa’s dad?” he asked.

Once more he was at it with not saying hello and instead jumping immediately to the questions. And he had already started referring to the baby by the name he had picked. He thought that it was more likely to be a Sansa if he called it Sansa.

“I am” Ned responded and he did have patience enough to smile at him.

“Cool!” Robb said. “Can you be my dad too?”

He just had no limits.

“Would you like that?” Ned asked surprised.

Catelyn could see exactly how much was running through his head in that moment. Did he want to be a dad to Robb? He had sounded like he wanted it. But maybe that had just been the heat of the moment.

“Yeah, I’ve never known my dad, but I think it would be fun to have one.”

Catelyn could just watch it happen, she didn’t really know what to do. She couldn’t interfere. And she really was hoping for that Ned would agree to her suggestion about living together.

“And you can take care of my mom. I think she’s a bit lonely.”

“I think your mom can take care of herself” Ned chuckled. “She’s tough.”

“Thank you for that” Catelyn sighed.

“You know, Robb. We’ll live together soon. You, I, your mom, Sansa, and every other week, my son Jon.”

She looked at him, couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Does that mean you agree with what I said?” she asked.

“As you said, it’s easier to make it work that way.”

“So I will have two siblings and a dad?” Robb asked and Catelyn was pretty sure of that he had never been happier.

He looked like he could have burst with happiness. Her little bundle of joy. She loved him so much.

“I suppose you could put it that way” Ned said.

He seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by Robb’s reaction. She didn’t blame him. Many were a bit overwhelmed by Robb. But he was also very lovable. She had never met someone who didn’t like him. Robb almost knocked her over with his hug.

“Thank you, Mom!”

“Oh my dear boy.”

She was close to tears at that point. She was quite often close to tears. She blamed hormones. Once Robb had let her go and bounced back into his room she followed Ned back to the hall.

"Don't think I've forgiven you" he said and looked at her with something she could only descibe as some sort of disdain. "Because I haven't. It's purely for the kids."

She had not thought it to be anything other than that. But hearing it from him still hurt a bit. She could admit that much to herself.

“Would you like to talk about it?” she asked.

“No” he responded. “Not right now. There’s enough as it is.”

He was right. They would probably just fight again. It was still too fresh. And they could really do without another fight. For the sake of the kids. They would have time later. If he wanted to.

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon, then.”

“Yes.”

“Goodbye, Cat.”

Knowing that it wasn’t their last goodbye, that they would see each other often, made her more hopeful about the future. They had fucked up lots and lots of things. But maybe they could attempt to set some of them right. And, he was back to calling her Cat. Yeah, maybe things would be alright.

“Bye.”

~*~

Having a dad was every bit as fun as Robb had imagined it would be. He liked Ned very much. Sometimes he got a bit distant though, Mom said he just was that way and there was no reason to worry. Because Robb had almost thought that Ned didn’t like him. And that would have been quite terrible. His little sister was not as fun, she mostly ate and slept and screamed. She screamed really much. But she was quite cute, and she had the same hair and eye color as Robb. And they had named her Sansa, like he had wanted. So she was okay. Sometimes he helped Mom with her and that was actually a bit of fun. His new brother was okay as well. He was very shy though and he rarely wanted to play with Robb. And that was really boring. And for some reason he didn’t seem to like Mom that much. Robb couldn’t understand why. Mom said it was because Jon had a different mom than him and was sad his mom and dad didn’t live together anymore, so Robb should not be so hard on him. He wasn’t hard on Jon, he just wanted to play. But he was a bit younger than Robb, maybe he woukd be more fun when he got older. Robb hoped so. And for some reason Mom and Ned were not together. They lived together, but they had different bedrooms and they didn’t act like a couple. It was very weird. Robb had thought that they would be together since they had Sansa, but they were not. They seemed to like each other though. He had tried to ask Mom why she was not together with Ned, but she had just told him that it was hard to explain. He didn’t like it when she got all adulty and told him things were complicated and hard to explain. It just seemed like an excuse. Because she did like Ned, he was sure if it. And Uncle Edmure said so too. And he would make sure of that they got together. If it so became the last thing he did, he would make sure of it.

#IT'S DONE #FINISHED #THIS IS IT #just kidding there will be a sequel #love you #consequences #my fic #Catelyn Tully #Catelyn Stark #Ned Stark #Robb Stark #Cersei Lannister #ashara dayne #edmure tully #jon snow

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thesimmingspacebard · 4 years

Text

Game of Thrones Legacy Challenge

Because I love legacy challenges, and I love killing sims, I thought the perfect, fantastical hybrid would be of the Game of Thrones variety. I take inspiration from the books/series, but I change a lot to make for a more satisfying sims-ified generational story. After all, now these great houses are all a related family tree, not competing for power in the same land. So many things will be different, deal with it, don’t @ me.

Okay, into the GoT Legacy challenge.

Base rules:

Every heir must do the political career (AKA King) unless stated otherwise

You have to go through with planned deaths

You must change castle color schemes for each main house

Cheating is allowed to get the intended children

Each child must max one toddler skill and one child aspiration

Asha Greyjoy

After her parents died, Asha did anything to keep her and her siblings afloat. She sold family heirlooms, downsized land, and became a criminal of the high seas. But, now that her siblings have grown, Asha grows tired of defaming her family name. Settling down in what remains of the Greyjoy Manor, Asha sets out to create a dynasty of her own. However, they’re taking that whole family motto (“We Do Not Sow”) pretty seriously. While they do still work odd jobs as a petty criminal, she keeps insisting she’s doing it for the right reasons. Asha wants to make the world a better place than her ancestors did... But she wants to do it in a fast-track kind of way and decides to rise up in the world by marrying a wealthy spouse.

So her new legacy begins.

Asha’s Traits: Gloomy, Outgoing, Good (At heart)

Asha must max out the fishing aspiration

Asha must mount at least 10 fish to her walls

Asha must have at least 3 sons

Asha must have a live-in maid to help with children

Asha must build an opulent castle with her riches (or appropriate the Baratheon Castle I built on the gallery (The_SpaceBard)

You must choose if Asha will quit her criminal career and devote herself to her rowdy children and repairing her lackluster marriage, or stay in the criminal career, take a lover, and have a illegitimate child that her spouse casts out

Robert Baratheon

Leading is hard for Robert Baratheon, particularly with his brother, Stannis, always on his heels. Stannis thinks he’s the better leader, but he respects Robert’s claim to heir. But, despite their uneasy peace, it's always created this unspoken rivalry between the two.

Robert taking everything Stannis ever wants, though, doesn’t help.

When Robert becomes of age, he takes over as head of house. But along with it, he takes Stannis’ high school sweetheart. Will the two find a way to reconcile or will Stannis’ jealousy rip the two (and perhaps the entire kingdom) apart?

Robert’s Traits: Glutton, Slob, Good

Stannis’ Traits: Good, Ambitious, Jealous

Renley’s Traits: Outgoing, Romantic, Active

Renley must die on his young adult birthday

Stannis must have a teen pregnancy resulting in one child: Shireen

Robert must steal Stannis’ partner

Robert must have at least 4 children with said partner: Brandon, Lyanna, Eddard, Benjen

Robert must max out charisma

Robert must die once all his children born

Stannis must join the detective career

You must choose of Stannis forgives his long-lost-beloved and raises his daughter and her children as family or if he sets his wife and daughter on fire and is executed for it

Ned Stark

After the internal bickering of his father and uncle that left the family in ruin, Robert’s children are all too aware of what power can do to their family. Disillusioned with ruling, Brandon leaves the house to his siblings, never to be seen again.

While that leaves Lyanna heir, she’s uninterested in leadership and Eddard (AKA Ned) takes charge. Renaming his family the Starks, he sets out to focus on family first, not power.

Tragedy still strikes, however, over and over until he finds himself the final Stark standing. Things only start looking up when he falls in love and creates a family of his own.

He raises 6 strong children (including the baby of his sister, Lyanna). Though he does not seize more power in his lifetime, he couldn’t be prouder.

Brandon’s Traits: Good, Self-Assured, Hot-Headed

Ned’s Traits: Family-Oriented, Good, Neat

Lyanna Traits: Romantic, Loves the Outdoors, Music Lover

Benjen’s Traits: Loner, Good, Gloomy

Brandon must start the Leader of the Pack aspiration

Brandon must “go missing” when he becomes a young adult (Feel free to get creative, but I will be locking him in a dungeon below)

Benjen must freeze to death

Lyanna must have a teen pregnancy with a much older man

Lyanna must die after giving birth to a son: Jon (can cheat gender)

Ned must marry a jealous redhead

After all his siblings are dead, Ned has five children in rapid succession: Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon

You must choose if Ned will raise Jon as a son or as a servant

Sansa Stark

Unlike generations before, and much like Ned hoped, the second Starks did not grow up coveting each other’s talents or responsibilities. Jon dreamed of becoming a simple hunter, Sansa wanted to be a princess, Arya wanted to be an athlete, Bran wanted to be a scholar, and Rickon wanted to be a baker. Every Stark left the house to become their own person, save Robb, Sansa, and Jon. They figured they could maintain their kingdom on their own.

That is, until Robb tragically, suddenly dies and it's up to Sansa to take up the mantle. As a child she just wanted to be a pretty princess and wife, but can she step up and become a queen?

Jon’s Traits: Loner, Dog Lover, Loves The Outdoors

Robb’s Traits: Insider, Outgoing, Self-Absorbed (Or Self-Assured, if you don’t have Get Famous)

Sansa’s Traits: Genius, Materialistic, Ambitious

Arya’s Traits: Active, Hot-Headed, Noncommittal

Rickon’s Traits: Cheerful, Foodie, Squeamish

Bran’s Traits: Gloomy, Bookworm, Unflirty

Robb must start a “Winterfell” club

All Stark children (except Robb, Sansa, and Jon) must leave the castle once they become young adults. That can be for school, romance, death, etc.

Except Robb. Robb MUST die at his own wedding

When Robb dies, Jon gets a dog

Sansa must have 3 children: Rhaegar, Viserys, and Danaerys (Dani, if your fingers don’t want to deal with typing it out). Sansa must have Rhaegar early on and Viserys and Dani much later

You must choose if Sansa dies alongside her son, Rhaegar, in the same tragedy or deliberately gets him killed herself for his abandonment and neglect

Dani Targaryen

Watching the Stark house almost collapse because of all the children going off to do their own things, Rhaegar wanted to whip the house back into shape under a new name: House Targaryen. Ambitious and determined (and a little unhinged), the dragon-like siblings wanted to reclaim glory for their mother who held the castle together in its darkest hours.

That is, until Rhaegar runs off with a pretty young thing and shirks all his duties.

Dani quickly takes over, despite the fact her brother Viserys is always looking over her shoulder and trying to enforce his whims without doing any of the work. Dani will not let bad seeds get in the way of her family legacy, though, no matter the cost

Rhaegar’s Traits: Kleptomaniac, Music Lover, Noncommittal

Viserys’ Traits: Mean, Ambitious, Hot-Headed

Dani’s Traits: Cat Lover, Hot-Headed or Erratic, Genius

Rhaegar must max out the violin skill

Rhaegar must get married, divorce, and remarry a much younger woman

Viserys must turn into a vampire and burn to death

Dani must marry and become a widower within the week

Dani must max out her Debate and Charisma skills

Dani must have 3 very territorial cats and one (possibly adopted) child: Lysa

Dani must extend her life as much as possible

You must choose if Dani will have an illicit affair with an extended family member (descendent of Asha’s illegitimate child/Renley, descendant of Shireen, descendant of the Stark children who left) to produce Lysa or have three more dead spouses, none of which give her a child

Lysa Tully

Lysa grew up with the breaker of chains, the mother of dragon-like cats, the most famous ruler in recent history. She made mountains move with a single word.

It’s not Dani’s fault she didn’t have much time for Lysa. She was making the world better for everyone, including her daughter. And that didn’t affect Lysa much, not really, she just is a little clingy... and stressed out... and just desperately wants to start her own family.

But will a family of her own ever fill the empty space in her heart?

Lysa’s Traits: Paranoid, Family-Oriented, Erratic

Lysa must have only one son: Robin

Robin’s other parent must die

Lysa must have no skills over level 1 other than parenting

Lysa must get fired from politics, leaving Dani to still rule until her great-granddaughter is of age

Lysa must max out the Super Parent aspiration

Lysa’s only close friend is her son

You must decide if Lysa becomes a single parent for life or she’ll find love again

Robin Arryn

Robin’s mother, Lysa, was clingy. It overwhelmed Robin his entire life, especially living in such a large castle with one lonely, overbearing woman following him constantly. He loved her dearly, particularly since he knows how... distant his grandmother can be. But Robin is desperate for breathing room and to make his own mark on their legacy

He was a delicate, uncoordinated child who needed and appreciated the extra hand from Lysa, but now as an adult, Robin just wants to bring color and joy back into the castle. And, in turn, to the people of their kingdom

Robin’s Traits: Squeamish, Creative, Clumsy

Robin must become Lysa’s best friend (until he becomes an adult and marries)

Robin must marry young to a local villager with similar features to his mother

Robin must have two children: Margaery and Loras

Robin must max out the painter and piano skills

Robin must litter the castle with masterpieces ONLY

Margaery Tyrell

Margaery grew up in a complicated home, with two elderly matriarchs running the kingdom. Grandma Lysa was never quite queen material, and Margaery was disgusted with her for it. She identified more with her great-grandmother, the infinite Queen Dani, a cunning dragoness of a ruler.

Growing up idolizing her queen, adoring her father, and sharing everything with her brother, Margaery always felt she was being groomed to be a well-rounded, beloved queen in her own right. When Queen Dani finally passes on, Margaery is sure she will be the monarch Dani always meant her to be. But will she live up to her own expectations?

Margaery’s Traits: Cheerful, Genius, Outgoing

Loras’s Traits: Active, Romantic, Freegan

Young Margaery must be close to Dani until she dies, but hates Lysa

Margaery must take the throne when Dani dies

Margaery must have three children: Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion

Margaery’s partner must hate Tyrion

Margaery’s partner must also be romantically involved with Loras

You must decide if Margaery or Loras get to have a happily ever after once Tyrion is born. The other must die tragically

Cersei/Tyrion Lannister

The Lannister children grew up knowing that the family and their legacy comes first. But perhaps they took that a tad too literally.

Cersei, the eldest daughter of Queen Margaery, was proud to be the next beautiful woman leading their dynasty. But unlike her foremothers, Cersei refused to take a spouse. She insisted to the kingdom that she does not need a marriage to be great.

Though, her growing brood of golden blonde children is a little confusing for the villagers. Unbeknownst to the people, their second parent is not her noble suitor that she keeps around for appearances, but her twin brother. If their secret is ever discovered, her reign might be doomed and their nosy, judgmental, annoyingly intelligent younger brother may be forced to be the king he never wanted to be.

Tyrion’s Traits: Genius, Good, Gloomy

Cersei’s Traits: Mean, Creative, Ambitious

Jaime’s Traits: Active, Good, Romantic

Cersei must have a “beard” aka a cover romance for her true soulmate situation

Jaime and Cersei must have an illicit relationship since their teenage years and have children together

Cersei must have 4 children: Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen, Tywin

Joffrey’s Traits: Evil, Mean; Myrcella’s Trait: Creative Tommen’s Trait: Cheerful

Joffrey must die as a teen

The other two Lannister “Purebloods” must get taken away by authorities before they reach their teen years (the fourth one must be taken as an infant)

Once her children are gone, Cersei will die

Once all his nephews/nieces are gone, Tyrion will adopt 2 boys: Doran and Oberyn

You must decide if Jaime comes to his senses and helps run the kingdom with Tyrion or dies with Cersei

Doran and Oberyn Martell

Raised to be the best they can be, Doran and Oberyn were pitted against each other far too often. It created a rivalry between the two that grew insidious over the years. After decades of chaos, clashing ideologies, and lots and lots of death, both men wanted to bring the kingdom into an age of glory. They grew tired of all the broken relationships and want their house to come back together and stay strong. However, they both want to do it very differently. Doran wants to promote education, peace, and humanitarianism. Oberyn prefers expansion, freedom, and nationalism.

The two tolerated each other out of brotherly love, but when their father dies and the crown falls to them, who will lead the kingdom to greatness?

Doran’s Traits: Bookworm, Perfectionist, Self-Assured

Oberyn’s Traits: Romantic, Outgoing, Hot-Headed

Both children must be close to their adoptive father, Tyrion

Doran must max out Logic, Wellness, and Writing

Oberyn must max out Charisma, Singing, and Fitness

Doran and Oberyn must compete at least 10 times over their lifetime (Chess, Fighting, Lottery, Dance fight, Card game, Foosball, Horseshoe game). Have the siblings keep track (trophies, sad clowns, scoreboards, your pick)

They must invite 3 long-lost family members to the castle

You must decide if the intellectual Doran or the charismatic Oberyn leads the castle into a new era; the other must die by public execution

If you decide to play, please tell me! I’ll be doing a YouTube series following my own adventures in the challenge so I’d love to see what you guys do with it.

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lucky-bucky-boy · 5 years

Text

Mistletoe

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter put off introducing you to the team for a long time, but Tony insists the holiday party at the compound is the perfect way for the team to meet the only best friend they haven’t yet.

Word Count: 2385

Warnings: Christmas themed, more fluff

Tags: @lokilvrr

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my fics anywhere without my written permission.

"If you ask me one more time if I'm sure I want to go, I promise I will rip my hair out and you'll have to deal with looking at me bald every day," you huffed out a laugh with only a slight playful annoyance tinging the words as you spoke. Delicate application of mascara, mouth parted ever so slightly to give the steady hand needed to not mess up the extravagant glittery eyeshadow that you'd never admit took three tutorials, four tries, and over an hour to do properly.

"O-okay," Peter's anxious voice flowed through your phone perched on the edge of your vanity. "I'll be there in 15, Mr.Stark had Happy pick me up. Bye, (Y/N/N)."

One final layer of ruby red lipstick to compliment the dress that MJ had helped you select; a beautiful a-line knee length dress, intricate lace dancing across the chest and flowing down each arm, stopping just before your wrists, all in a rich christmasy red. Fixing a small golden necklace around your neck to match the gold of the friendship bracelet Peter had given you, MJ and Ned before everyone went off to college, you slipped on a pair of gold glittery flats to complete the look.

As if on queue there was a small series of knocks against your bedroom door. Grabbing the small black clutch you'd thrown a few things in, you opened the door, smiling at Peter before taking in his appearance.

Being an Avenger had done him well, a new sense of maturity vibrating in his aura. His loose curls had been groomed and shaped up, no doubt a request from Tony for this party. His shoulders more broad, a hint of stubble prickling his chin and jaw, all complemented by the sleek black tux, with a bright red tie that just happened to match your dress perfectly. Michelle's doing no doubt.

"O- uh - you look- you look beautiful," Peter stumbled over the words as he tried his damndest to not stare at any one part too long. There was a faint blush on his pale skin. "Are you ready?" He asked, "Mr.Stark isn't happy that you're my only friend he hasn't met."

A soft giggle played at your lips as you turned your lights off and shit your door, "Sure am, Parker."

"Holy shit, there's even little sodas in here - PETER YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THEY'RE TINY," a small squeal left your lips as you pulled out one of the tiny cans from the cooler in the limo, Happy sending Peter and amused look through the rear view mirror.

Peter chuckled softly, "I tried telling Mr.Stark we didn't need the limo but he insisted."

"Okay, but seriously, if Tony wasn't already married I'd be chasing after that if it meant I got things like this every day," there was an obvious joking tone to your words but it still stung Peter deep in the gut. Happy sent Peter another look when he caught that hurt puppy look on Peter's face, which he responded with by closing the partition.

You pouted at Peter, "Hey, that was mean," you scolded softly.

"He kept wiggling his eyebrows at me it was weird," Peter whined in defense, causing a string of laughter to fall from you.

"Where's the party at?" You asked, settling back into the seat next to Peter, pressing the small can of soda to your lips, the warm, dim light casting a fairytale like glow over you and Peter was damn sure Tony had changed the lights.

"It's at the compound," Peter answered, pulling his phone out to check the time, anything to keep from looking at you too long. "Mr.Stark said he wanted something more intimate this year. It's a few of his friends, everyone had a plus one, I originally wasn't going to go but he wanted to meet you and thought this would be a good time to do so."

"Ooh wait, so I also get to meet the team?" You asked, feeling the car pull into what you could only assume was the compound.

Peter nodded as Happy opened the door and Peter grabbed your clutch before getting out, holding his hand out to help you. A chorus of thank you's and nice to meet you's flowed between the group before Peter steered your attention to the pristinely white building that was brightly lit. Hundreds of thousands of little crystal lights strung on every ledge, every tree, every bush and branch available. Little white deer silhouettes lined the walkway and it truly looked like a winter wonderland thanks to the dusting of snow still stuck from that morning.

The bustling party could be heard even outside, laughter, chatter, and music vibrating the architecture. Peter opened the door for you, the sounds doubling in volume as you stepped into what felt like a scene out of a Hallmark movie. Intricate decorations and lace, ribbon, and likes strewn across the ceilings, railing and archways. A pop-up bar and serving table off to the side, the home to extravagant drinks and foods you had only ever dreamed of getting the chance to taste. The intimate lighting doubled with the warmth that the endless Christmas music sent through you made your heartbeat a little faster when you remember who you came here with.

Peter's arm wrapped around your waist, leading you towards the back of the room that sat huge round tables. At the center table sat a few of the team members; Natasha with her feet propped up on Sam's lap, Sam who was bickering with Bucky over what sounded like an argument over the best something and poor Steve stuck in the middle of his two friends squabbling.

Peter cleared his throat to get their attention, all eyes turning to him and then immediately falling in you. An anxious, almost embarrassed kind of warmth spread through you as they all analyzed you, Bucky breaking into a huge grin. "Hey Peter, is this the dame you haven't shut up about?"

Sam sighed exasperatedly, "Barnes, for the last time, we don't call girls dames anymore."

"I think it's rather endearing," Nat added, eyes never leaving you, watching as you looked up at Peter with a small look of shock on your face, lips slightly parted. Bucky had undoubtedly caught you off guard with the confession, and Peter was blushing even darker than earlier.

"Peter Benjamin Parker," you said, voice in a heightened, almost comical tone of disbelief, "Are you talking about me again? Do I need to bring out the pictures from summer camp?"

His eyes went as big as saucers, "No no no no, they asked about my friends and I told then about you that's all," his words were rushed, quick to speak in hopes of deterring your threat.

"Sure, if you call gu- ouch, why'd you hit me," Bucky grumbled towards Steve who was sending him a warning look and suddenly everyone at the table caught on. You knew nothing.

Peter watched as your mouth opened to speak but quickly cut you off when he heard Tony talking from the upstairs balcony. His gaze moved upwards, seeing a much less crowded, but still just as decorated area and he grabbed your hand, leading you to the steps. "C'mon. Let's go see Mr.Stark."

Tony was talking to a business friend, a young girl who you could only assume was his daughter hugging tightly to his leg with one arm and a feeding herself a cookie with another. Her eyes moved from the man in front of her to Peter and you and she gasped, dropping the cookie and running over to Peter, who knelt down in preparation to hug her.

She flung her small body into Peter's chest who hugged her and stood, moving to hold her on his hip. "Peter!!!!!! Why'd did you leave? Daddy's being boring. I wanna play with the bobots- Peter who's this she's pretty - and OUR DRESSES MATCH!"

She squealed, causing Peter to laugh softly.

You looked down at yourself and then over at her, taking in the details of her dress and realizing she was wearing a smaller version of your dress. You giggled softly, watching as Peter sat her down so she could twirl to show it off. You knelt down to be eye level with her, "Well, that just means we both have good tastes because we both look very pretty, don't we?" You asked her.

She nodded her head furiously. "Yes! Daddy wanted me to wear gold but I liked this one better. I'm Morgan."

"Hi, Morgan. My name is (Y/N), I'm Peter's friend. We've been friends since we you as little as you."

She gasped softly, "Does that mean you know how to prank him? He never falls for my pranks," she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted some, only causing you to laugh more.

"Of course I know how to prank him," you looked up at Peter to realize that both Tony and him were watching the two of you, the other man from earlier gone. After giving Morgan a small smile you stood, reaching out to shake Tony's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Stark." You beamed a bright smile at him, causing Tony to smirk softly and send Peter a look of approval.

"The pleasure is all mine, sweetheart. And please, call me Tony. I'm surprised you haven't freaked out yet, Peter's mentioned a few times that you're a big fan of - well everyone." He said, hand motioning to wave in the direction of where the team was.

You nodded, feeling Peter move back to your side and seeing Morgan find her place at Tony's leg again. "I'm a huge fan, and it is taking everything not to freak. But what kind of first impression would that be," you joked softly.

Tony chuckled, picking Morgan up. "Very true. I'll leave you two to enjoy to party. I think I need to get this stinker another cookie before mommy comes and yells at me." Morgan cheered as Tony moved to take her back downstairs, leaving Peter and you alone.

Leaning over the balcony you used the height to your advantage, observing the party and every one of its inhabitants. Watched people dance, drink too much champagne, kiss and coo at one another. It was almost surreal, the wealth, the confidence, the comfort of the bubbling atmosphere. The feeling of someone watching you pulled you from your thoughts, turning to look at Peter who was watching you intently.

"What is it?" You asked, almost amused, "something wrong with my makeup?"

Peter shook his head, hands fidgeting with the end of his jacket, eyes darting around anxiously before looking back at you. "N-no, actually. The complete opposite. I can't get over how beautiful you look tonight." He bit his lip, and when your eyebrow crooked upwards and a small smirk toyed at your lips he got worried, more anxious than before, "Not that you don't always look beautiful but you just look especially beautiful tonight."

The smile and light laugh that left your tempting lips made him feel he was baptized in cold water, drowning him and filling him with life all at once. "You overthink everything, Peter," intertwining your fingers with his, you pulled him towards the steps. "I want a drink and I want you to show me around."

A glass of champagne and too many horderves later, you found yourselves in the compounds kitchen searching for refuge from the stimulation of the party. The two of you sat on the kitchen island, reminiscing and laughing, catching up for the first time in what felt like an eternity since the start of the semester.

"So, this is pretty much where you live now? No more loud Queens streets to lull you to sleep at night?"

Peter shrugged, pulling off his suit jacket and moving to roll the cuffs of his button down shirt up. "Well, I kinda bounce between here and Aunt May's. Mr. Stark has me taking classes online so I can still work with him and not over do myse-"

A loud gasp pulled your attention to the doorway, Morgan was standing there, holding Tony's hand and pointing at the two of you. "Daddy! Look! They're under the mistletoe!"

Tony chuckled softly, "They sure are kiddo, and what does that mean?"

"They have to kiss!" She exclaimed.

Looking up you saw the bundle of green and read tied around the light fixture and couldn't help but shake your head and laugh in disbelief. "If I didn't know any better I'd believe everyone was in on something," you said and watch as Tony held his hands up in defense and backed out of the kitchen with Morgan in tow.

"Y-yeah," Peter swallowed loudly, causing you to look over at him. "We- we don't actually have to kiss if you don't want to." His voice was soft and nothing more than a mumble and he fiddled with the rolled up sleeves.

"What makes you think I don't want to kiss you, Pete?" You asked, smiling softly, a sudden wave of anxiety wiping over you. "Do you think I'd try this hard for anyone else?" You motioned to yourself.

"You could have come in sweatpants and a tank top and I still would've thought you looked amazing." Warmth spread across you, slightly embarrassed and unsure of what to say, "...Can I kiss you?" He asked.

A timid nod was enough of an answer as he moved to cup you cheeks with his hands, thumbs rubbing over the apples of your cheeks as he took a moment to admire every detail of your face. "I've loved you since we were kids," he admitted before pressing his lips to yours, slow and almost unsure.

The moment he felt your hands on his chest, tugging at his shirt to pull him closer, his actions had more confidence, lips soft and speaking a language you didn't know you knew, filling a void you didn't know you had. You pulled back a little, both of you smiling big and giddy.

"Merry Christmas to me," he mumbled.

"Merry Christmas to us." You corrected, pressing another small kiss to his lips. "And I love you too."

#peter #peter parker #peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter fluff #peter parker fluff #peter one shot #peter parker one shot #peter imagine #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman fluff #spiderman x reader #spiderman one shot #spiderman imagine #marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #marvel one shot

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cagestark · 5 years

Note

Could you do a divorced!starker prompt? They meet each other some years after their divorce... I really don’t have a plot for it? lol I just wanna see them falling in love again after an angsty split up, pwease 🥺

Hope this works!

Warnings: sex, addiction mentions, overdosing. Tony and Peter are both 38.

Read here on AO3.

“Thirty-eight years old,” Peter mutters under his breath, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. “And I still don’t know how to tie a tie.”

Ned appears over his shoulder, a familiar warm presence. It’s been nearly fifteen years since Peter moved away to California, only seeing Ned for the odd weekend during the holidays or their weekly Skype sessions, but some things never change. Their friendship is one of them: something forged in fire and made invincible, but for all its strength, its still so soft. “Here,” he says. “Maria taught me years ago.”

“I wish she could have made it tonight,” Peter says. Ned’s wife of ten years is a lovely woman with the darkest skin he’s ever seen. When Peter visits New York, he often stays with them in their apartment, sleeping on the couch only to wake up to her in her mint colored bath robe telling him that breakfast is ready and coffee is waiting.

Then again, maybe it’s a good thing she isn’t there. As selfish as it is, tonight he is glad to have all of Ned’s attention on himself.

Maybe it will help him stay out of trouble.

“I wish she could have made it, too,” Ned admits, taking Peter’s tie and maneuvering it expertly into a Windsor knot. “But she’s showing some couple a house upstate, and she wants to be there early. I told her I’d send her a selfie. You’ll have to get my good angle.”

“She thinks all your angles are good.”

“Well, she’s farsighted.”

“Barely. She doesn’t even wear glasses—”

The bantering comes easy to them. It always has. It distracts him from the thoughts of what’s coming tonight, of his reflection in the mirror, of what his former classmates will think when they see him. The eyes are the same, with some extra lines around them. His hair isn’t as thick as it was in high school, but it’s certainly not thinning. His physique is mostly unchanged, though he isn’t running anymore eight minute miles. It’s hard, getting older. And what does he have to show for it? Yes, he’s successful in his field. He doesn’t have to worry about money (much). But there is an emptiness in his house in Palo Alto, one that echoes. It echoes inside him.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you,” Ned asks in the cab.

“Who?” Peter asks. Like he doesn’t know. He gives up the gimmick almost immediately, shoulders sagging. His gut feels full of snakes, twisting and squeezing the breath out of him. If he weren’t sitting down, he’s afraid his knees might knock together. He hasn’t been more scared of anything in his life—not moving across the country, not changing careers, nothing.

Nothing except seeing his ex-husband, Tony, for the first time in fifteen years.

“He’s going to be there,” Ned says calmly. “He already mentioned it to the tabloids. I called the school ahead and they said that they’ve got increased security just because of him. He’s definitely going.”

“Of course he’s going,” Peter mutters. “He’s Tony fucking Stark. He’s a billionaire. Why wouldn’t he go back to his twenty-year high school reunion.”

Ned is unphased in the face of Peter’s sarcasm. He reaches out to take his friend’s hand, both their palms sweaty. They haven’t held hands in years, not since they were just kids in high school, but Peter squeezes and squeezes and doesn’t ever want to let go.

“I’m scared,” Peter admits.

“Are you going to make a move?” Because of course Ned knows. Peter has never explicitly stated that his biggest regret—the thing he thinks about during every lull in his day, the thing he lies awake at night lamenting, what he wishes he could take back every time he tosses a penny into a fountain—is divorcing Tony.

They were high school sweethearts. When Tony moved from Malibu to New York in their sophomore year, there was animosity between them, both competing for the top spots in their class, both on the decathlon team, both filling out forms for the same scholarships their senior year. It only made sense that their animosity morphed to a tension of a whole different sort. Tony was beautiful, was clever and smart, so kind-hearted…so flawed.

But freshly eighteen, already committed to going to the same college together, Peter could only see through rose-tinted glasses. They married with only Peter’s aunt there at the courthouse to give her blessing (and her blessing came in the form of many warnings—you’re so young, Peter, I hope you know what you’re doing). Then their time spent in university was tumultuous at best.

Tony drank too much. There were a few incidences with cocaine that made the older boy aggressive and even more pig-headed. Mostly, it was the arguing. Tony’s instincts to lean towards stoicism and sarcasm in the face of emotion and turmoil made Peter feel more alone than ever in his own on-campus apartment. What had they been thinking? Neither of them was mature enough for marriage. Tony especially, Peter would think, noting his empty seat during the morning lectures, knowing that his husband was back at their apartment sleeping off his latest binge.

So, he went with his aunt to begin the annulment process. The judge was sympathetic and granted it. Peter Parker-Stark became Peter Parker again. He moved apartments, stopped answering Tony’s texts, sat on the other side of the room during the classes they shared together. It wasn’t easy. If anything, Tony’s behavior grew more reckless, which was hard for the younger man to ignore. There was one night when Peter got a call from the emergency room that Tony had overdosed, and Peter was still his emergency contact. He sat by his ex-husband’s side until the sun came up and he began to stir. Peter had left before Tony could wake, stopping by the front desk to tell the nurse to remove his contact information. He wouldn’t watch Tony kill himself—couldn’t.

After that, Tony got the hint. He stopped texting. He stopped making sad eyes at Peter from across the room. He stopped trying to corner him in the hallway after their lectures ended. While it was what Peter had wanted, it still made his heart ache, heavy. There was no winning. There was no clean break. Everything hurt.

Sitting two rows behind him at their graduation was the last time Peter saw him. In person. After that, all of his Tony-sightings were via the news: newspapers sold by vendors on the street, magazines beside the checkout at the store, interviews on television. Tony had always been brilliant, always had dreams of starting his own company. Peter had just never thought he’d be able to shake his addictions and do it.

For a long time, it seemed like he was able to manage both. Every other article seems to portray Tony as a partying playboy, different men and women on his arms every night, arrested once for possession of marijuana. But Tony never crashed and burned the way Peter had been so afraid of. Even after Peter had move away from New York (away from Tony, away from the huge tower in Manhattan that had his former last name emblazoned on the side), he’d kept track of Tony in the news. Seven years ago, he committed to rehab, and when he got out, he’d done more than turn over a new leaf. He’d abandoned that tree altogether.

Peter couldn’t help it. Alone in his condo one night, eating leftover take-out alone, he’d realized: leaving Tony had been the biggest mistake of his life. Every interview charmed him all over again, every smile cut as sweetly as it cured him. The passion in his ex-husband was visible, and he was doing it, living his dream, changing the world. So many nights he thought of trying Tony’s old number to see who might pick up. In a box in his closet were letters, apologies, pleadings, still in their envelopes, unlicked and unsent.

“I can’t make a move,” Peter says, feeling tortured. “I know what that looks like. Trying to get back together with him now that he’s on Forbes Wealthiest.”

“Does that have something to do with it?” asks Ned.

Peter is ashamed to feels tears burn at his eyes. “I remember when we sat on the floor of our apartment because we had no furniture. I remember eating ramen and rice for three meals a day until we both found jobs. I loved him, then. It’s not about the money.”

Ned squeezes his fingers. When the cab turns into their school lot, filled to the brim with cars, they slide together a little in the backseat, and Ned is a warm, solid presence beside him. Suddenly, Peter wants a hug, more than he’s wanted anything. Instead, he just squeezes back.

There is heightened security. There are paparazzi, real life people with cameras standing around. And Tony is already there, his car a sleek, sexy thing, obscene outside their simple high school. The cab drops them off and Peter pays with shaking hands. It’s something out of Alice in Wonderland, being back here after so many years. Things have changed—the school’s roof is a different color. The parking lot has been paved, finally. But it’s still the same place. They’re the ones who have changed.

“Ready?” Ned asks.

“No,” he says. They go in anyway, shifting through the crowd which is only there for Tony. They have to show their ID’s to get in, and Peter is already seeing familiar faces: shapes different, hair different, but features so similar. Voices the same. The old decathlon team is there and they freak out to see Peter, even Flash, who was only ever shit to him.

Peter shakes his hand anyway. It’s been twenty fucking years. Plenty of time for Flash to have changed.

The auditorium is decorated scantly, but classy. It’s preferable to the way Peter remembers their school dances being: all strobe lights and music so loud it was impossible to hear each other. His eyes scan the room, but there were so many people in their graduating class (and Tony is, admittedly, short) that Peter can’t spot him right away.

“Drinks?” Ned asks.

Peter nods. Across the room are a series of white-clothed tables with finger foods and drinks. They fill their plates with grapes and cheeses and shrimp cocktail and all manner of other things, laughing at the pile of food they’ve accumulated. Sporadically placed around the platters are framed pictures—outtakes from their yearbook, most likely—and they laugh so hard that tears fill Peter’s eyes at the picture of Flash taken at the prom afterparty wearing nothing but his vest and pants. The afterparty was held at the school also and an alcohol-free zone. That hadn’t stopped plenty of teens from drinking on the way there.

Their class president accosts them before they can sit down, giving them nametags and markers to write with. For the sake of irony, Peter considers writing his name down as PENIS, but really. He was grateful if no one would remember.

“Peter,” Ned says, lowly, pressing his nametag into place on the breast of his shirt. “I see Tony.”

“Where,” Peter breaths, marker shaking in his hand. He keeps his head ducked, staring at the table. He can’t look up. He just can’t.

“He’s—oh. Oh, Peter. He’s coming over here. Okay. T-minus ten seconds, I’d say. What should I do? Should I tackle him? Should we run? Peter, I—oh.”

Peter can feel him. Tony has always had a presence about him, a tangible aura that follows him around the room. For the first time in fifteen years, it washes over Peter like ocean tide slipping over his head. He feels it from his crown to his heels, goosebumps raising along his arms, hairs standing on end. It’s a Tony-sense.

A tanned hand enters his vision. There are more scars on the knuckles than there used to be, but he knows those hands. He knew them intimately. Those hands used to take him apart after a long day in classes, used to edge him for ages during finals when he was already wound up tighter than a spring.

“Hey, Leeds. Looking good. I think some friends of mine are being shown a house by your wife tomorrow.” The voice is the same, maybe a little deeper, rough and fast. It makes Peter shiver. He watches Ned shake hands with Tony but can’t cock his head up to take the man in.

“Oh, you’re friends with the Romanovs? The house is killer. Maria showed me some pictures.”

“Natasha talks about it all the time. Don’t tell your wife this, but they’re already pretty sold.”

“Jokes on you,” Ned says, whipping out his phone. “I’m going to tell her anyway.”

They laugh. Peter can’t avoid it anymore, can’t stare at his own hands like an idiot. He turns, tilting his head up.

He knows how Tony looks. Last week, the guy did a segment on Good Morning, America for fuck’s sake. He isn’t so different, has hardly changed, to be honest. He looks so good that it hits Peter all over again, he let this man go. He feels that stinging in the back of his eyes that warns him he is on the verge of tears, presses his lips together even as he sees Tony smile—he has more laugh lines, ones that Peter didn’t give him.

Peter holds out his hand, trembling, hoping to God that he doesn’t burst into tears. Tony stares at it for a long time before taking it—and pulling Peter up and out of his chair.

“Can I hug you?” Tony asks warmly. “Are we there yet? Can we get there, quickly? Because, not to be soft, I’m really craving a hug right now.”

Peter laughs wetly. He nods. They hug. Tony is barely an inch taller, definitely broader through the shoulders though. His suit feels silky against Peter’s skin, and he smells so fucking good. Cologne. Something expensive and familiar. The same cologne he got Peter for Christmas their first year together. He digs his fingers into Tony’s back, pressed flush together from chest to shin. It’s hard not to fall back into their old dynamic. In this man’s arms, he feels small and soft and cherished.

“It’s okay,” Tony says softly. “It’s okay. Okay?”

Peter nods. He doesn’t know what’s okay, because nothing feels okay, except for this moment. This singular moment, when Peter clicks back into place with the neighboring puzzle piece that he left behind so many years ago.

Tony lets the hug go on far longer than is platonic. Except for the lack of swaying, people might have mistaken them for slow dancing.

“Now might not be the time,” Tony says into Peter’s neck, warm breath fanning over him. “But I texted you a few times, oh, a decade and a half or so ago, and you never got back to me. Like, what gives?”

Peter shakes his head. Tony pats his back, right between his shoulder blades, and hums—a warm sound that reverberates through Peter’s entire body. “I’m only kidding,” he admits. “Water under the bridge, Pete, I hope?”

Pete. God. He pulls back, a hand on Peter’s shoulder, and there isn’t any hope that Peter will be able to school his face. None at all. He must look tortured, on the verge of tears, years of regret that he will never be able to reverse. So much pain, and some anger too, because Tony became the man that Peter wanted, only years, years late.

“Want to walk with me?” Tony asks. His eyes flicker to Ned. “That okay, Leeds? Pete and I will go and see the locker that Thompson used to shove him in. Pay our tributes.”

Ned exchanges looks with him, unsubtle question written on his face. Peter smiles shakily, nods. “Just don’t check to see if he still fits.”

Tony keeps a hand on his back, escorting him out. The warmth sinks right through Peter’s shirt, down to his skin and deeper still, to his bones and his aching heart. This might be all he gets, the last interaction with Tony, the last touch, the last looks. What he gets tonight will have to hold him over for the rest of his life.

Tony leaves behind his security while they walk down the hallways, shoes soft against the tiled floors. It smells the same, and if he weren’t just a little taller, he’d be seeing everything exactly the same. Remembering it. The squeaking thunder of shoes as students filled the hall, the slamming of locker doors, the raucous discussions and laughter.

When he glances over, Tony is staring at him, a soft smile on.

“What?” Peter asks when Tony’s smile blooms.

“Just—you couldn’t have made it easy on me? Became hideously unattractive, or something? God, Pete, you haven’t changed at all.”

“You have,” Peter says. His mouth has always worked a little faster than his brain.

“The crow’s feet? They’re my curse.”

“That’s—that’s not what I meant. Come on, Tony,” Peter says, bumping their shoulders, feeling twenty years younger. There are butterflies in his stomach again. Maybe between AP chem and Shakespearean Literature, he’ll catch a glimpse of Tony in the hallway, a split moment that could make his entire day. “You know you look great.”

“Yeah?” Tony asks. He sounds sincere. “Not going to lie. It feels damn good to hear you say it.”

“So modest,” Peter teases.

“That’s one thing that hasn’t changed,” admits Tony. He stops to rest against his old locker, leaning against it. These days, he wears tinted glasses, but they are off and hooked in the breast pocket of his suit. He’s styling his hair differently these days, but it works for him. Everything works for him. “Tell me what you’ve been up to. How’s California?”

“It’s—” awful. Lonely. “—great. I’m making security software for companies who want to stay ahead of cyber-attacks.”

“I keep up with your work.” Tony’s expression is unbearably tender and fond. “It’s impressive, but I expected no less from you.”

“Tony,” Peter whispers. “Tony, I know this is years too late, I know that you’re successful and happy and there’s no reason to bring up the past. But I just need to say that I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t have more faith in you, in the man you could be. You were—and I just—left. I’m so sorry.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” asks Tony. He pushes away from the lockers and comes to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Peter. “I’m not holding any grudges. I was a fucking mess in college, Pete. And for many years after. The things you caught me doing—I’m ashamed to admit that was only the half of it: the drugs, the drinking. You were the only thing that kept me together—”

“I know,” Peter laments. “And then I just left you—”

“It wasn’t your job. Come on, where’s the smart man I knew? You should know this. You can’t make a person change a moment before they’re ready to, and you’re not obliged to wait around in the meantime. Keeping me together wasn’t your responsibility.”

Peter’s face crumples. It’s more than he expected to hear after all these years—he was so afraid that Tony would be angry, would blame him, would rub in his face how far he’s come and how it is no thanks to Peter. The relief he feels at knowing Tony forgives him (or doesn’t think there’s anything to forgive) almost staggers him. But that’s only half the burden Peter carries.

“I wish I’d held on longer,” he admits. He can’t even look at Tony, the warm solidi presence by his side. He stares down at their shoes, dark and shined enough that they can see their faint reflections in them.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I was hurting us both. I wasn’t any good for you.”

“And now?” Peter asks.

“Now what?”

“Now, are you good for me?”

Tony turns until he has one shoulder braced against the lockers, all of his attention on Peter. No questioning that it’s a heady thing, a physical, tangible feeling, being under those dark eyes. He shivers all over with it, skin prickling, craving—“What are you asking, Pete?”

Peter shakes his head. He can’t say it. Can’t be rejected, even though he deserves it, after the way he rejected Tony all of those years ago. Tony reaches out and Peter flinches even though Tony is the gentlest man he knows, never raised anything more than his voice to him even in their most heated arguments. Warm fingers brush his chin, coax his head to turn and make eye contact.

“My therapist says that communication is key,” Tony says, the corner of his mouth drawn up. “Ironic, considering that I barely spoke a word to him for our first three sessions. Talk to me. We were no good at this back then, and we’re too smart for that. Let’s be good at it now.”

“You’re right, I just—I. I follow your work, too,” Peter ends, lamely. His eyes are wet, lips trembling even as he smiles. “I always have. I can’t stop.”

Tony groans. He reaches out for one of Peter’s hands and laces their fingers together. It’s been too many years—they don’t fit the way that they used to. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe this is something that they will have to relearn. That they will have the chance to relearn. Tony brings Peter’s hand up and presses his lips to the knuckles, facial hair brushing the skin. It’s the most chaste, platonic affection, but it takes Peter’s breath away. Then he turns Peter’s hand over, wrist up, and presses a kiss to his pulse. Surely he can feel it hammering away under his lips.

“You want me, Pete?” Peter nods, eyes closed to savor the way Tony’s lips brush his skin as he speaks. Then all at once, they are gone. When he slits his eyes open, Tony is watching him, serious. “I don’t want a fling. I don’t want a one-night stand. You were my one that got away—and unless you don’t want this—I’m not letting you go ever again.”

“How, Tony?” Peter whispers. “I live in California, you live in New York—”

“We’ll take it slow,” says Tony. He’s always been quick on his feet, and the picture he paints for Peter is everything he needs to hear. “Texting. Phone calls. Skype. And if things go well—and I want them to go well, Pete—I’ll fly to you or fly you to me and we’ll go out for the weekend. And if things go very well—and I want them to go very, very well—”

Peter laughs. “I get it, I get it—”

“Then we’ll figure things out. I’m flexible. California doesn’t have a SI headquarters yet, which I’ve always personally thought was such a shame. You could come to New York, too, if you want. Lots of companies here are vulnerable to cyber-attacks. I’m willing to stage a few myself, if it means you’ll have work—I’m joking, honestly, only a joke. God, I’ve missed that look on your face.

“And if New York doesn’t sound good? Pick a place. Any place. We can meet in the middle. We can leave the country. If it goes well.”

“And you want it to,” Peter finishes. He presses his palm to his mouth to smother his smile, but it’s no good. There’s no hiding it. “I want it to, too.”

They kiss, and it’s better than coming home. Peter’s home is an empty, lonely thing. This is warm, and soft, and so tender that it makes him ache from his chest right down to his groin. He brings up a hand to smooth over Tony’s cheek, down the curve of his neck, over the soft collar of his dress shirt. Tony coaxes his mouth open, licking softly and sweetly. He tastes faintly of some brown liquor, scotch or whiskey or bourbon.

All at once, their kisses change from a sampling to the desperation of two drowning men. Peter feels surrounded, overwhelmed in the best way. All of his senses are alight, signals jammed by the interference of Tony: facial hair and liquor and cologne and soft silk ties and the hot bulge below Tony’s leather belt, the one that presses against his own because Peter’s hips jut forward gently.

“I missed you,” Tony says when they come up for air. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you so fucking much.”

Peter whines. He grabs at the lapel of Tony’s suit to urge him closer. Tony turns them so that he can press Peter into the lockers of their youth, bracing one thigh between his open legs and rutting against him, tilting his head to mouth hotly at his neck. Peter gasps, keeps his eyes half-open to watch the other end of the hallway and make sure no one comes looking for them.

“Missed everything about you,” Tony says. His voice is wrecked, and Peter thinks he might be on the verge of tears. When he pulls back, he sees the slightest redness around Tony’s eyes, the sheen of unfallen tears. “Look at me, Pete. I need to say—I didn’t do any of it for you. You know that, right? My sobriety, my therapy. It wasn’t for you. It was for me. Because I was tired of being the kind of man who let other people down. Who let himself down. I didn’t think I had a fucking snowball’s chance in hell getting you back, you know that right? If this goes south between us again…and I don’t want it to, but if it does? It will hurt like hell. But I will be okay. I want every day you spend with me, every phone call we share, every meal, every glance. I want it all to be because you want to talk with me, dine with me, look at me. Does that make sense?”

Peter nods. He reaches up to rub his thumb tenderly against the soft skin between Tony’s eye—it comes away only a little damp. “How could it be anything else?”

They kiss again. It’s fifteen years overdue. The library fines they must have accumulated would be incredible. They’re insatiable, eighteen years old again, spending their ‘wedding night’ in a motel 6 with candles that Tony bought at the local dollar store, ones that make the room smell like fresh cotton linens and that cast the room in a whole yellow glow. It wasn’t the first time they’d made love, but God it had been good. They’d nearly burned the room down, in more ways than one.

“Tony,” Peter groans, cock aching. He wonders about the car in the lot that belongs to Tony, whether the seats go back far enough for them to properly enjoy themselves. He thrusts his hips, desperate it a way he hasn’t been for anyone or anything in years. “Please,” he asks, not knowing what he’s asking for.

“You know I have you,” Tony says, biting at Peter’s throat. “You know I always have you. Come on, come here.”

Tony tugs him gently down the hallway. The first classroom they come to—AP Chemistry, or at least it was 20 years ago—Tony tugs on the handle and it opens. They duck in.

It’s still a chemistry classroom, the lab tables neatly arranged in rows. There is the faintest scent of cleaners and chemicals, a sinkful of glassware that some student didn’t put away. Tony and Peter had shared this class, Peter sitting at the front and Tony at the back. They don’t choose either of those lab tables, instead settling nearest to the door, unable to make it any further before Tony hoists Peter up onto one of the black, glossy tables.

“Can’t get enough of you,” Tony says, pressing Peter back so he can untuck his dress shirt from his slacks, push up the undershirt and mouth at Peter’s abs. They aren’t as defined as they were twenty years ago, but Peter is proud that there is still definition left, and plenty of strength beneath that. “God, you’re perfect. Still so perfect after all this time.”

“Tell me you’ve got a condom, lube, something—”

“All of the above, baby, be patient with me.”

Peter sits up abruptly. He threads his fingers through Tony’s hair and pulls gently until the other man gets the idea and leans back, their eyes meeting. “I’ve waited long enough, I think.”

Tony softens. Peter hasn’t seen such a serene, fond expression on his face since they were married. This side of Tony doesn’t exist in the tabloids. It fills up all the empty parts inside of him that gaped for so many years. But there’s another empty part of him that he’d like Tony to fill. ASAP.

“Undress,” Tony says firmly. “Just what’s necessary. Don’t want to get caught with anything more than our pants down, do we?”

“Don’t want to get caught at all,” Peter says snidely, opening his belt to leave it hanging at his sides while he unbuttons and unzips his dress slacks. He wrenches both down just as far as he needs to, rolls so that his stomach is pressed against the chilly lab table. He feels a moment of shyness, anxiety, but then Tony is pressing a reverent hand against his flank, rubbing soft skin with a tender thumb.

“God,” Tony says, wrecked already. “You’re a gift. I don’t know if I deserve you, Pete, but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying.”

“You can start by fucking my soul out of my body,” Peter says pressing his feverish cheek against the lab table. He’s smiling though. He’s missed this so much, the banter, the connection. The sound of Tony’s belt is loud in the room, the rustle of fabric deafening to Peter’s senses which feel dialed up past their limit. Tony reaches out to pull a stool from under the lip of the lab table, gently lifting Peter’s leg up to fold and rest on it. In this position, he’s spread wide open, the perfect cradle for Tony to fuck up into.

The first touch of Tony’s lubed fingers has Peter groaning. Tony has always been good at this, and the years have only given him more experience. He is gentle but relentless, massaging Peter’s rim, pressing in with a single twisting finger, then two, the stretch making Peter gasp and press back, urging Tony in to the knuckle. Tony fucks him with his fingers for several long minutes, leisurely, like they have all the time in the world. Peter knows not to rush him; this is Tony’s favorite part. Taking someone apart. Turning him into a leaking, whining mess.

“Think you’re ready, Pete?” Tony asks. “Think you can take my cock?”

“I know I can,” says Peter. “But are you ever going to give it to me?”

Tony spanks him lightly after pulling his fingers free. Then there is something larger, blunter, hotter at Peter’s opening and he lets himself go soft, opening up. It’s been so long since he’s bottomed for someone, but he remembers what to do. He’s so relaxed that he can’t even groan, just lets all the breath slip out of him as Tony presses in, gentle but insistent, until he’s bottomed out.

“How do you feel even better now than you did all those years ago?” Tony asks through his teeth. He leans down to bite at Peter’s shoulder through his shirt, just the soft press of teeth. Peter whines, panting, squeezing down around the cock inside him just to feel Tony jerk and bite harder. “Are you ready, Pete? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ready, I’m ready, give it to me—”

Tony does. God, he does. He remembers just how Peter likes it, too, soft, long, deep thrusts that the younger man can feel so deep it’s in his fucking throat. Merciless, Tony thrusts into him again and again and again, pressing firmly along Peter’s prostate, every inward thrust accompanied by a jerk of Peter’s cock where it’s dribbling onto the tiled floors.

“You want to work your cock, baby?” Tony pants. “Or you want me to? Feeling lazy?”

“You, you,” Peter gasps. He’s not feeling lazy—he’s feeling alive and awake and invigorated and like he’s liable to explode at any moment—but he’s also desperate to feel those rough hands on him again. Tony is obliging, reaching around to wrap his fingers around Peter’s cock and begin jerking him off in the same way he does everything: thoroughly, leisurely, efficiently. “God, yes, thank you, please Tony—”

Tony groans. “Keep talking like that and I’m going to blow my load in you, baby. You want this over so quickly? Huh?”

“Thought we were just getting started.” Peter can’t help it. He’s laughing, grinning, giddy with it. “Give me your cum, sir,” he says, playing on Tony’s old kinks. “You can impress me with your stamina next time.”

Peter thinks that’s what did it: next time. Tony’s hips roughen, thrusting harder as he nears his end, and Peter clenches his muscles to squeeze around him. When Tony cums, he wraps a gentle but possessive hand around Peter’s throat, the other hand milking Peter’s cock for all it’s worth. Peter wishes they weren’t using a condom so he could feel the hot rush of cum—but there will be time for that. Time for everything he’s been wanting again all these years.

Even after Tony’s hips slow, he stays deep inside while he jerks Peter off. Taking the hand off of his throat, Tony reaches down to cradle Peter’s tight balls and that’s it—he’s gone, spurting all over the lab table, another stool in front of him, the floor. It lasts forever, Tony holding him through the wracking spasms of his body. It’s the best orgasm he can remember having, alone or with anyone else, in years.

“Thank you,” Peter whispers. “Thank you.”

Tony turns him around, hair disheveled, sweat at his temples and softening cock still out between his legs. “What for?” Tony asks, smirking. “For the hand-job?”

“That too,” says Peter, laughing.

They clean up—thoroughly, since neither of them are interested in leaving cum behind on 12th grade chemistry desks. By the time they stumble out of the classroom, they are re-dressed, hair combed, looking (except for the flush in their cheeks) like all that might have happened in Classroom 110 was just a lengthy, tender conversation.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Tony asks. When they pass his body guard standing where they left him, the guy is struggling to keep a straight face, though he follows them without a word. “I’m thinking…Indian cuisine.”

“That place at 99 Hudson Street? Is it still there?”

“God yes, I’d have left this city years ago if otherwise.”

And in the morning when he wakes up tangled in the sheets of Tony’s bed on the penthouse floor of Stark Tower, the news has pictures of them sitting cozily in Tamarind restaurant eating lamb kabobs with bell pepper crusts and sharing tindora poriyal.

The headlines read, Reunited.

#starker #divorce #high school sweethearts #twenty year reunion #tw: addiction #tw: overdosing #cagewrites #longfic

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honestdreams · 4 years

Text

Chance | Peter Parker

Hello Darlings, I know it’s been months and I’m sorry but anyway this is actually a request from @renesniajazza my close mate, this is your quarantine birthday present I hope you like it!

There might be mistakes I can’t be bothered spell checking sorry ♡

words: 1516

warning(s): none

masterlist

“I never imagined myself in a wedding dress.” She muttered to herself, running her fingers down the silky white dress.

“What was that sweetie?” Her mother asked curiously.

“Oh nothing, just don’t know if this is my style.” The tightness of the dress was a dead giveaway that this wasn’t the kind of dress Y/N wanted for her wedding as she was infamous for loving absolute princess dresses (in the occasion she had to wear a dress) but this is what dress shopping was for.

In all honesty that was the truth but the bride to be just didn’t want her mother to know that she could hardly believe that Peter asked her to marry him. This was all just a dream to her.

Everything about Peter was her dream guy, his quirkiness, his awkwardness, his intelligence, and she couldn’t even fathom his attractiveness. She understood that because he was a nerd he didn’t particularly stand out but she also knew if he decided to change his major to something athletic Peter would have girls drooling over him all day every day, and she would stand less of a chance as she already did.

She didn’t understand what Peter saw in her. She was the definition of a nobody. She didn’t have many friends, she didn’t excel at a specific subject, she wasn’t even that good looking, so why out of every other girl he could have had, why did Peter Parker choose her?

Finally, being alone with her hair and makeup done, Y/N’s anxiety set in and an overwhelming feeling set on her shoulders. She was getting married to her high school sweetheart. Her mind started to swim with thoughts that she might have pressured Peter to this moment, putting it in his head with her constant need of assurance that they would spend their future together, or the nickname that came out of her mouth without any hesitation when she needed help with something.

She remembered the first time she said ‘hubby’, it just slipped out out of drowsiness, after wandering into the kitchen still wrapped in a blanket she asked quietly to no one in particular but obviously to the boy that stood shirtless with his back to her as he made his girlfriend breakfast.

“Hubby can you make me a cup of coffee please?” and without another word turned around and collapsed onto the living room couch instantly passing out, with barely any recollection of what she just said.

Later to be told by her long term boyfriend, causing a blush to set on her cheeks as she sipped on the freshly made coffee, making him laugh and kiss her forehead, mumbling against her skin, “It’s okay, I liked hearing you say that.”

Maybe Peter just said that to make her feel better. Maybe all this was because Peter felt bad when he first met her when they were placed together to do their English assignment, not by their choice of course, but by the teacher’s designation, and maybe he asked her out to lunch out of pity and not because of attraction.

Y/N’s best friend finally came back from the bathroom and saw the bride to be breathing heavily on the verge of a mental breakdown, she sighed knowing what was happening and quickly took her friend into her arms, not saying a word because she knew all too well of Y/N’s fears that this love wouldn’t last or that it wasn’t real, from all the sleepovers throughout the years and even some before Y/N met Peter, the two girls shared moments where the other cried about their misfortune with love.

“Listen to me Y/N,” she started softly, stroking the scared girl’s arm in comfort. “You deserve this. This is everything you’ve wanted and it’s not going away anytime soon. Peter loves you more than life itself, even if you can’t see it, everyone else can see that when he looks at you it’s like the stars are aligning. I’ve even heard him say that when he looks at you, he feels like everything is going be okay.

“You two are meant to be. You were like two puzzles pieces that needed to find each other to bring out the best in one another. I can only hope to find a love with yours.”

Y/N gently pulled away from her friend to see tears building up in her eyes. “Isabelle, I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish not appreciating what I have when you have yet to stumble upon yours.”

Isabelle chuckled, “I told you it would be better to wear waterproof eyeliner.” And wiped Y/N’s eyes, “It’s okay, the two of you give me hope that the love that we once talked about does exist, it’s just waiting for me to find it.”

Y/N stood nervously holding her father’s hand, bouncing back and forth on her shoes while she waited to walk into the hall full of her family and friend’s along with Peter’s, to stand in front of all of them and promise to love her boy until death do them part.

Finally, the piano began to play her song and he father squeezed her before walking her through the door and to the altar. Shaking Peter’s hand and kissing your cheek before leaving you to Peter’s care.

The ceremony flew past Y/N until they finally got to the vows and everything slowed down when Peter began to talk.

“Y/N. My love. My darling. My angel. I know this is by far the scariest thing for you, and that’s why I’m beyond ecstatic that you’re stood in front of me right now. I remember when I first saw you, your nose was buried in a romance novel, you were with Isabelle under the tree behind Midtown, your hair was in a braid and you still wore your glasses back then. I remember my heart racing in my chest and I didn’t realise I had stopped walking until Ned pushed me and I fell in front of you.

“Ned likes to joke that I fell for you there and as much as it is cheesy, it’s true, and then Miss Carson made us partners and you lit up my whole world. Even before that I kept trying to make my move but I kept getting nervous so my theory is she felt bad for me and gave me a break, I will forever be grateful that she gave me a chance to be with you.

“You are the best thing in my life. I get to wake up and fall asleep next to my best friend every day. I get make to countless memories, see your smile, hear you laugh, hold your hand, and so many other things that just make my life unreal. I promise to always be there for you when you need me, or at least try my best to be, we all know I’m infamous for being late or clumsy” Y/N rolled her eyes as Peter subtly mentioned his activities as Spider-Man, “but I will do everything in my power to keep you happy, and when you’re not I will be there to pick you up and take care until you’re okay again, no matter how long it takes.”

Tears were streaming down my face when Peter finished and he squeezed my hand as I used my other to wipe them away.

“Sorry everybody that just took my breath away.” I joked trying to catch my breath as I felt like bursting into tears from how full my heart felt.

“Peter Ben Parker. You have my whole heart. You know exactly what to say and how to handle little old me. I couldn’t ask for a better husband. I watched you grow from a Sophomore to the man you are now, and it’s been an incredible transformation. You have selflessly put everyone else’s needs in front of yours, and stood up for what is right, no matter how many people tell you it’s wrong. Your dream to make the world a better place inspires me every day.

“I can’t wait for our future together. It’s going to be everything I’ve ever wanted, no matter what happens, the good, the bad, I know that we will make it through because we already have had so many trials through our relationship but we’re still together because this is what we both want. Through our relationship I learnt meeting is by chance, and love is a choice between two people, that’s why our relationship was flourished throughout the many years of us being together, and will continue to keep us together through marriage.

“I promise to stand by you when the whole world is against you, unless I know better, which I normally do,” I teased making Peter roll his eyes this time. “I will patch up every wound you come home with. I will wait every night you come home late for work, ready to take care of you, because you do exactly that for me. I love you Peter and I’m ready to be Mrs. Parker.”

masterlist

#honestdreams #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #peter #peter parker blurb #request filled

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peter-parcoeur · 4 years

Text

“When you’re gone” - part 2

Summary + Chapter 1

Comment if you like it ♥

Chapter II

It had been two weeks now.

Two entire weeks of a world Tony Stark wasn’t part of anymore and still, Peter wasn’t ready to come out and face the emptiness he had left into his own life. It was just too brutal, too confusing, and too sad.

Ned had come to visit almost every day in hope that, at some point, Peter would consider leaving his bedroom and catch some fresh air. Every single attempt failed as he barely had the force to get out of his room to share a meal with his aunt. Sometimes he would simply watch his meal until it was completely cold. His entire world had collapsed and now it felt like he had no goal left. Even thinking about MJ didn’t bring him a single happy thought, he had simply lost interest in his ordinary life.

“School’s starting tomorrow” May stated as she grabbed a few dirty clothes from his bedroom floor “you should get your stuff ready for the big day!”

“You’re calling this a big day?

- Last year of high school, this is HUGE.

- Whatever, I’m not going anyway.”

Peter flinched at the sound of the laundry basket being dropped on the wooden floor. When he looked up, May looked furious.

“Okay that’s it, get up, now!

- Wow, what’s up with you May?

- I’ve been patient and I know you’re hurt honey but I won’t let you drop out of school and make stupid decisions like this! So you better get your ass out of this bed or I’ll drag you out of your bedroom so fast you won’t get to use your freaking magic spider sense!”

She was sat by his bed now, pulling at the cover so she could finally look into his eyes.

“What happened is truly awful and we’ll mourn Tony for as long as we get to live… But… Life needs to go on. You’re 17. Do you think he saved you so you could spend your days in bed playing Fall of Duty in your boxers?

- That’s… Call of Duty actually

- Whatever! This is a stupid game and you’re smarter than this, Peter.

- I just don’t know how to do it…

- One step at a time baby.”

With a tender hand resting on his cheek, she pecked his forehead.

“First step: take a shower, you smell like a rotted dead fish.” She winced, “Happy’s coming over for dinner, he’ll be happy to see you looking fresh.”

“Happy’s been coming a lot lately…

- He’s been really supportive. Now out! Shower!” she snapped her fingers, grabbed her laundry basket and left the room so she wouldn’t have the conversation she was dreading.

There’s was something therapeutic about long, hot showers and though his heart was still heavier than ever, Peter couldn’t deny he was lucky to have May to kick his ass when he needed her to.

Walking back into his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, Peter could smell his aunt famous’ meatloaf cooking from the kitchen. She was right, life would still go on even if it didn’t seem that appealing without his dear friend in it.

As he looked for a fresh pair of pants and some socks, his eyes were inevitably drawn to a few pictures he had pinned on his wall, right above his desk. Every person he’d ever loved was in there. His parents, his uncle Ben and May on their wedding day, Ned, MJ, Happy… And of course, Tony. His heart sunk into his chest as he grabbed a picture of himself holding a little girl wearing Iron Man’s helmet with her hands wrapped around his neck, recognizing Tony’s daughter, Y/N.

If only he had a chance, Peter would go back to this day just so he would get to hang out with Tony and his family again. To think he wouldn’t get to see his daughter grow into a woman (and probably terrorize any man willing to date her) was heartbreaking, especially when he thought of the way she looked at the funeral. She seemed both devastated and angry with no helmet for her to hide her feelings anymore.

He remembered every detail of the day he had met Y/N, 8 years ago.

***

It was the first time Peter ever stepped into Tony Stark’s actual home. So far, they had met at Stark Industries or in random places all over the world but today, Tony had invited his young apprentice into the intimacy of his Home.

The weather was incredible that day, sunny and warm like a summer afternoon even though it was in the middle of March. Peter didn’t know why he’d been lucky enough to be invited here but he felt extremely thankful for it.

“Hi Peter, please come in” Pepper buzzed him in on the huge monitor in front of the main gate. Of course Tony Stark’s house was surrounded by a thousand of video cameras. After all, he was one of the most powerful man in New-York City, not to mention that he was, well, Iron Man.

Stepping into such a huge mansion wasn’t anodyne for Peter, a kid from Forest Hills. This looked nothing like anything he’d seen back in the Queens.

“He’s down in his workshop if you want to join!” Pepper smiled as she seemed busy with paperwork. She quickly led him towards the elevator, giving him the instructions to enter the basement like he was standing in the heart of the SHIELD’s offices. Everything seemed cool and impressive for an ordinary teenager.

Peter could hear AC/DC blasting from afar as he reached the basement. In front of the big steel doors he found a screen, just like Pepper had told him and as soon as he stood in front of it, a facial scan started.

“Welcome, Peter Parker” – with a click, the main doors opened for him.

“Hi kiddo!” Tony was working on a new armor that looked like a bigger, smarter version of his original Iron Man suit. Peter had always been impressed at how easy Tony made it look when it came to technology. As much of a geek he might be, Peter could never be on that level of perfection.

“New suit?

- Yeah… Well, we’ll see where this goes, I’ve been thinking.”

Tony always seemed to say this. It’s like he never slept at night because somehow, that’s when his greatest ideas came alive. It was just crazy to think that a man could come up with incredible weapons and crazy armors just over a sleepless night. Would he be given the same amount of time, Peter wouldn’t even get through a school assignment.

“Your house is incredible, thanks for the invite Mr Stark

- It’s Tony

- Alright, Tony.” Peter smiled, genuinely flattered Tony Stark himself would consider him close enough to name it anything but Mr Stark.

- By the way, not that I wouldn’t have you there randomly but… Someone was dying to meet you and you know me, I aim to please.

- Really, who!?”

Peter was secretly hoping it would be Nick Fury. He was just as scared as an admirer of the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. He couldn’t wait for the day he would make him an Avenger. To this day, it remained his biggest dream.

“Come on out honey, don’t be shy…” Tony smiled in a way Peter had never seen before.

Clearly, he would never call Nick Fury “honey”, so that dream was off the table for today.

Then a little girl came out, fiddling with her hands and avoiding all eye contact.

“Hi?” Peter smiled at her shyness, “is that Y/N?”

“My one and only” Tony stated proudly.

Tony had told him about his daughter, Y/N and how she had changed his whole life. What didn’t matter before, like getting injured or stepping closer to an inevitable death, mattered now. Happy had even told Peter that becoming a father had made Tony more anxious, more stressed. It was a different dynamic now that he had something to lose. Of course there was Pepper too, but she was hot and smart, she’d find a new husband. Y/N would never find a new dad.

Getting down on one knee, Peter welcomed the little girl as warm as possible. She could sense she was a bit star struck for some reason, but he had always been amazing with kids. She wouldn’t be the exception.

“Hi, I’m Peter!” he beamed, reaching for her hand.

“Oh she knows!” Tony chuckled “she’s not usually that shy, she’s just… impressed.” Tony watched the expression on Peter’s face change immediately “Don’t get too cocky, she just likes you very veeeery much, right honey?”

The little girl nodded then went straight into Peter’s arms for a hug.

“Aw that’s cute!” Peter smiled, holding the little girl against him.

“Yeah well, be careful, her dad’s kind of a psycho!”

Looking closer, Peter could definitely tell she was a Stark. She had her father’s eyes and mischievous smile but sometimes she would give you one of Pepper’s famous cocky look. Everything about her screamed “I’m the result of two geniuses’ love” and he could tell she’d become a smart ass in the future. Secretly, he hoped he’d still be around to see that, only because it would mean Tony would still be his mentor.

The rest of the day went blissfully. Peter learned more about Y/N and had the privilege to see her “astrology” themed bedroom with a ceiling covered with stars that would shine in the dark, her massive telescope her daddy had built for her 8th birthday and all twelve names of her favorite toys. Out of everything, the cutest thing was the spider-man figurine she kept on her bedside table. There was no denying he was for sure, her favorite super-hero.

When Peter left, Tony grabbed Y/N into his arms for her to wave goodbye to her new friend.

“Daddy? She asked after a while

- Yes sweetheart?

- When I grow up, I want to marry spider-man.”

Pepper couldn’t help but laugh at Tony’s face, a perfect mix between the astonishment and the one he’d given her when she had keyed his favorite car “just for fun”.

“That kid will have to kill me first” he joked, walking back into the house as he held the most precious gift life had given him.

Thinking about it, Peter probably wasn’t the worst choice she could make… when she’d turn 30.

***

“Peter???”

Peter realized he must have blacked out for a while when he caught a glimpse of his aunt May and Happy at his doorway. How long had he been dreaming?

“Oh errr, sorry, I was just… thinking… Good to see you Happy!

- Hi kid, I’d give you a hug but you’re underage and shirtless, so that’s weird!” Happy joked, pointing at Peter’s naked chest.

- Dinner’s ready, May added, whenever you feel like joining us?

- I’ll be out in a minute.”

Peter sighed as he pinned the picture back on the wall, wondering if he’d ever get to speak to Y/N again.

#tony stark #avengers #mcu #marvel #peter parker #robert downey jr #tom holland #avengers fanfiction #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x reader

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just-my-fandom · 5 years

Note

could you do an MJ x Stark!Reader piece where they're secretly dating? maybe they're hanging out with peter and tony the other avengers and R comes out with her relationship by playing "two truths one lie"? maybe tony gives mj the shovel talk? lmao it's fine if note! but thanks ❤️

Warnings; F/F make out? Dad walking in on it getting heated?? Haha

___________________________________________

"Okay. I am Captain America, better than Tony, and I have a secret family none of you know about,"

Your eyes watch as Tony laughs out, sitting forward at the kitchen table you all gathered at and pressed his hands to the wood,

"Obviously the second one is a lie, no one is better than me," Tony flicks imaginary hair over his shoulder, your lips pulling into a grin as you glance at Peter next to Tony,

"No you dipshit," Natasha shuffles a stack of cards that her and Clint were playing with, eyes looking at your father on the other side of the table, "Who would want to marry Steve? Of course he has no secret family,"

"Harsh," Steve frowns, pointing a finger at you then dropping his hand, "Your turn,"

"Ah jeez," You look at MJ next to you, hiding your grin behind your hands, "Okay I got this. Um, two truths one lie; I am the better looking stark," You raise an eyebrow, "I am dating MJ and me and Peter are secretly working together to plan a revenge on Dad,"

"Wait wait," Ned sits up from his slouched position in his chair, hand up, "What was the second one?"

"Shes the better looking stark? Duh, have you seen her, shes got all her fathers looks," Tony winks, and Ned shakes his head, waving both hands,

"No, you said you're dating MJ? Since when?" Ned asks, and now, everyone at the table is looking at you,

You bite your lip, hands sliding to your eyes,

"Since I asked her out," MJ shrugs, and you glare at her slightly before moving your eyes to Tony,

"Are you mad?"

Tony clicks his tongue, leaning forward and sharing a glance with Steve, "Guess that's one way to come out to us. Congrats," You smile shyly, "But I wish you told me sooner,"

"No one else in the family's like me," You raise your shoulders, "I didnt think anyone would approve,"

"Course we approve," Steve smiles, "We got Nat,"

"Okay, you know what Rogers?" Natasha flicks a card at Steve, easily hitting his chest, "Fuck you,"

"Language," Steve points, Natasha mocking him silently and snatching her card back from Tony,

"Answer this one question," Tony orders, "Have you done it yet?"

"Dad!" You stand up, groaning, "God, its not like I can get pregnant,"

You push away from the table to join Pepper in the kitchen, Tony laughing and shaking his head, "She got that attitude from her mother,"

"So you're really okay with us together?" MJ asks, looking away from where you walked off to Tony,

"You're a good kid," Tony shrugs, "And a friend of Peters. Any friend of my kids is a friend of mine,"

"You just called me your kid," Peter grins, and Tony side glances him, before the two are bickering of what he really said

___________________________________________

"Finally,"

MJ looks over from her spot on your bed, your form leaning against the now closed door and staring at her, "Dad finally got Ned to go home. He had so many unnecessary questions,"

"Well hes Ned," MJ shrugs, watching you peel off a sweater stolen from Natasha and toss it in your laundry basket, "He wants all the juicy details,"

"I'm not telling him how I go down on you," You roll your eye's, throwing a leg over her lap and wrapping your arms around her neck, "I'm really glad my dads okay with us,"

"Me too," MJ places her hands at your waist, tugging you forward so your hips met hers, "Other than him giving me the talk," She grimaces, and you laugh, head throwing back,

"Sounds like my dad," You lean forward, hand coming to her hair when your lips met, "But now I can kiss you in public instead of holding back,"

"Maybe more if you're into that kind of stuff," MJ smirks against your mouth, that presses harder to hers as you slowly begin to roll your hips,

"Dont push it Michelle," You feel her hands press to your bare back, her lips moving quickly against yours as her fingers fondle with your bra, teeth tugging at your bottom lip,

"Y/N?" Your bedroom door opens, Tony sticking his head in and looking over, "Oh, Jesus!"

"Dad!" You push back from MJ, grabbing a pillow to cover your chest, "Remember our knocking rule!!"

"Sorry sorry!" Tony puts a hand over his eyes, giving you enough time to put on a shirt, "Shouldve expected it,"

"What do you need?" You sigh, MJ grinning at your flushed face as Tony unshields his eyes,

"I was going to ask if MJ was cool sleeping with you or if I needed to pull out the extra mattress down stairs. Guess that answers my question,"

"Shes good here, dad," You frown, "Now please leave,"

"I better not hear you two!" Tony yells as he closes your door, "I will no hesitate to stomp up in here again,"

"Got it!" You shout, and glare at MJ as she begins to snicker, "What are you laughing at?"

"You," MJ leans over, hand pressing to your hip so you are forced onto your back, "You're adorable when you're mad,"

"Just shut up and fucking kiss me, Michelle," You tug your shirt off a second time, hands pulling at her dress so she is forced to lean down and meet your lips,

"Kiss you or fuck you? I can do either," MJ grins, hand pressing to the inside of your thigh to guide it open,

BONUS SMUTTY 18+

"Michelle, please," Your head falls back against the pillow, hands tugging at the flurry of brown hair between your legs,

"Easy," MJ purrs, finger sliding out of your pussy before pushing back in, your whimper visible at her touch, "Almost there,"

"I can't," Your jaw slacks when the knot in your stomach tightens, mouth dropping wide as your legs begin to weaken over MJs shoulders,

"Let it go sweetheart," MJ glances up at you, tongue pressing to your bud in a single lick,

You moan out, body trembling between her quickening thrusts of her fingers, eyes pinching shut as you release a cry, back arching against your mattress,

You gasp in deep breaths, eyes opening to look up at MJ as she sits up, smirking down at you, "Now imagine your dad walking in on that,"

You press the palms of your hands over your eye's, groaning as MJ laughs, "I try not to,"

"Go to sleep!!"

"Oh my god, dad!!"

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lurafita · 5 years

Text

Peter/Avengers, dub/con, captivity, Part 4

TAGGING PEOPLE STILL ISN’T WORKING!

Support couldn’t give me an answer to my problem. Though they said they would send me a link with a tool kinda thing, that I would have to install, and maybe that might help, then. Havn’t gotten it yet, but they said it might take a few days to get the file packed, or something. I have no clue about these things. Wish I had a Tony Stark in real life I could go bother with this.

Anyway, I would like to ask everyone to reblog this post, if you don’t mind, so that hopefully everyone who asked to be tagged for future parts will be able to find this. Thanks!

Read previous parts here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Once again, heed the tags below the cut.

kidnapping, dub/con, captivity, chains, bondage, obsessive Avengers, Peter/Everyone, darkly soft Avengers (in the sense that they hold Peter captive, but only want to love and protect him), non-powered Peter, dark-ish Avengers, 18+ Peter, Clint is not married and has no kids, Tony is not in a relationship with Pepper.

Part 4

Setting things up was almost too easy.

The Avengers floors in the tower were spread over four stories.

One floor made up an intricate and wide indoor training gym, with special equipment. The one above that was dedicated to lab work, and had all the instruments any scientists heart could ever desire.

Then came the common floor, which was by far, the biggest.

In the beginning, Tony had set it up so that every Avenger would have their own, private floor.

But everyone had quickly migrated to the completely functional guest rooms (that all came with en-suite bathrooms) on the common floor. There was more than enough room for everyone, and the team mates liked being close to each other, while still having some privacy in their own rooms.

Peter's room, of course, had also always been on the common floor.

The parameters for Friday's new protocol were easy to code into her mainframe. As was the math to calculate the length of the chain, and the best place to anchor it to, so that Peter would still be able to roam the whole of the common floor freely, but unable to reach the elevator.

Tony and Bruce would, of course, take Peter to their labs with them, if he wished for it. A fitting chain would be placed there as well. Things were a bit different for the gym. They suspected that Peter would want to keep up his ballet practices with Natasha (once he got used to his new circumstances a bit, they had no delusions that the first few days would be difficult for everyone). However, he clearly couldn't be chained down for those. So there would be no chains there.

And really, the chains weren't actually necessary. With Friday's updated protocols, which disallowed Peter the use of the elevators (which were the only way to access the Avenger floors), unless one of the Avengers was with him, or in case of an immediate emergency; as well as the fact that each and every one of them would be able to easily restrain Peter if it came to it, there was honestly no need to put a shackle on the younger man.

Thinking back, Tony didn't even know who had suggested it in the first place, but once the image was there...

They wanted it.

They wanted the visible, physical, undeniable proof, that Peter wouldn't leave them.

Couldn't leave them.

They wanted to be able to touch the chain, run their hands over the links, hear the sound it would make every time the brunette moved.

Tony took great pleasure in making it. He was not going to allow some crude, mass manufactured, heavy dark chain to touch his Sweetheart's soft skin. No. The chain he was making was a gold aluminum alloy, just like his armor. Strong, but light, and a glittering gold and red color. The cuff that would rest around Peter's ankle was padded with the softest material Tony could find, ensuring that neither the delicate skin, nor bones would get damaged from wearing it over a long period of time.

Feeling inspired, the billionaire also made some handcuffs out of the same metal and soft padding, as well as some other things that almost had him come in his pants, from simply imagining using them on Peter. Not right away, of course, he didn't want to spook his Sweetheart. But once things had progressed a little, when Peter had learned to accept (and maybe reciprocate) their love, these things would be there, and Tony and the others would use them to make his Sweetheart feel more pleasure than he ever had before.

When Peter graduated from University, Tony had finished making all the restraints they would need (and want). To celebrate Peter's graduation, Tony invited everyone (the team, Peter's aunt, and his two friends) to the most expensive restaurant in the city. Between the lighthearted teasing and sincere praise of everyone, Peter was blushing the whole evening.

Such a pretty little thing.

During the next days, as his departure to Australia drew ever nearer, Peter was a bundle of nervous energy. Fretting about preparations for his trip, getting everything in order, trying to spend time with Ned and MJ, his aunt and the Avengers, before he wouldn't see them for quite a while.

The day before his plane would depart, just as they had planned, the Avengers again invited everyone out, this time to a fancy, discreet place that served brunch. The food was good and everyone had a great time. At the end, Ned, Michelle and May Parker thanked the Avengers for the invitation, and then all hugged Peter tightly (May with tears in her eyes) and wished him all the luck in the world on his trip.

Peter likewise had to wipe some moisture out of his eyes after the heartfelt goodbyes.

Back at the tower, Bruce started the final stage of their plan.

“Peter? Professor Stoddard gave you a list of all the recommended shots for Australia, right?”

The younger man grinned. “Yep. Got them all covered. On a side note, I really hate needles.”

The admission got a small chuckle out of everyone, as well as a little smile from Bruce.

“Well, if you can grit your teeth through one more, I have mixed up something in the lab that will help your body to better adapt to the Australian climate.”

Peter gave him a look between surprised and moved.

“Aw, thank you, Bruce. You really didn't have to.”

But the doctor shook his head, and placed an arm around the slightly smaller man, guiding him to the elevator, the dark, knowing eyes of the other Avengers on their backs.

“Nonsense. I think we all would feel a lot better, knowing that you are less likely to collapse from heatstroke the minute you get off the plane. Come. It's in my lab.”

Ten minutes later, the elevator doors opened back up, showing Bruce carrying an unconscious Peter in his arms.

Steve stepped forward immediately, offering to take Peter from him.

“You made sure the sedative isn't harmful?”

Bruce would take offense, but he knew that the super soldier was simply worried and anxious for their precious one.

“I've tested it multiple times. He will sleep soundly for approximately the next nine hours.”

With Peter carefully cradled in his arms, Steve led the small procession to the younger man's room, where he laid him gently into his bed.

Natasha came forward and lovingly carded her fingers through the always messy, brown curls, swiping away a stray lock from his eyes. Clint was already in the process of removing the sleeping man's shoes, and Bucky, with sure but soft hands, opened Peter's jeans and tenderly stripped them off.

Sam was collecting the younger man's tablet, phone and laptop. They would be kept secure and out of Peter's reach, until they could be sure that their love wouldn't try to contact anyone about his captivity.

Tony and Thor entered the room then, carrying the long, gold and red chain between them.

Clint huffed at the sight. “I'm still not happy that my Darling will be wearing your color scheme all the time.”

Tony just smirked at him. “What did you want me to paint the chain with? Purple? No chance.”

Then he took the cuff that was linked to the chain, and approached the bed. He sat down at Peter's naked feet (Bucky had quickly traded the jeans for a soft pair of pajama bottoms, not wanting his Doll to get cold during the night, in only his boxers)

Tony took a moment to just admire the sleeping form of the man that held all their hearts in his hands. He looked so peaceful. He moved his hand to the ankle that laid against his thigh. Such soft skin. He stroked over it lightly. So delicate. He could wrap his whole hand around the appendage without problem.

“We were right. Peter isn't made for the jungle. It would be too rough on him. We can't let him go. He needs us.”

He didn't need to look up to see the agreement in the others eyes, and without further delay, he closed the cuff around the pale flesh.

“The chain will have to come off for changing clothes and taking baths, so there is a fingerprint scanner here” He pointed it out for the others “programmed to recognize our thumb prints. You need to press your thumb to it for five seconds, before it comes off, so there should be no accidental release. We will all need to watch our steps from now on, so that we don't trip over the chain.”

Everyone nodded.

Steve spoke next.

“Remember that Peter won't be too happy with us during the next few days. Maybe longer. He won't understand this, and he will like it even less. The first week will likely be the most frustrating for all of us, but I won't tolerate anyone taking it out on him.”

He was met with scowls.

“No one here would ever hurt him.” Sam had crossed his arms over his chest.

“It will take time, but Lastashka will come around.” Natasha continued to stroke his hair.

“Patience and love. Just like we talked about. He will accept it, one day.” Bucky's voice was confident and steady.

“It is rare that all of us are needed for a mission, so there is always going to be at least one of us here with him. This should help him to get used to it.” Bruce added.

“I will have to attend matters at Asgard occasionally, but I doubt it will take more than a day at a time. It is important that we show him that we will always be there for him, and take care of his needs.”

Tony stroked over the padded shackle once more, before standing up and covering the still unconscious Peter with the warm blanket.

“Friday, initiate Protocol: Caged Bird.”

The first few days were difficult, but it was nothing they hadn’t expected.

Peter was mostly confused. He didn’t understand why his friends were doing what they were doing. He didn’t understand that their feelings for him exceeded friendship by a mile. He didn’t understand that keeping him locked up, was for his own good.

He tried reasoning with them, tried convincing them that nothing would happen to him in Australia, or any other expedition he might take part in in the future. (He was very upset about having missed his flight. At the sight of tears gathering in his eyes, Steve had climbed into bed with him and cuddled the unwilling college graduate for about an hour)

After that Peter had got it in his head that the team had been hypnotized or otherwise manipulated by some kind of villain. (”This isn’t right. You know it isn’t. Someone is making you act this way. You have to fight this.”) But, of course, it was to no avail.

They had expected him to be angry at them, to scream and curse and wish them to hell (though he never did). And while he was clearly very unhappy about the situation, it wasn’t his anger that cut into the Avengers. It was his sadness.

The team did their best to help Peter through the ordeal, help him get used to things. Affectionate touches were freely given and numerous, no matter how reluctantly they were received.

They were vigilant about not giving him time or opportunity to get lost in negative emotions. Took care that he always ate and drank enough, would change the shackle from one ankle to the other every day, and then spent a few minutes to massage the joint, to ward off any discomfort.

Due to the shackle and chain needing to be taken off, in order for Peter to change his bottoms, or shower, someone was always in the room with him during that time. The lack of privacy and his own shyness about the others seeing him naked like this, was possibly the most challenging hurdle for Peter to overcome.

It took two weeks, for Peter to stop flinching away from their touches, and then another four days until he didn’t automatically stiffen any more, when one of them hugged him. His pleas to be let go tapered off after roughly the first month into his captivity.

When Clint actually managed to make Peter laugh one day, things changed again.

With the younger man’s slowly growing acceptance of his non-negotiable presence in the tower, the team grew bolder in their displays of affection.

Lips soon found their way onto the soft skin, hands alone no longer enough. Necklines were pulled lower, exposing more of the delicate neck and shoulder bones, then covering the light skin in love bites and hickeys.

Shirts were rolled up to gain access to stomach and chest. to stroke and caress, to lick and kiss. Soft tickles to the sides of the sensitive belly, light pinches and bites to the pink nipples.

Hands found their ways under the soft pants and boxers Peter wore, squeezing his buttocks, fingers ghosting over the rim, stroking up and down the length of his penis.

The younger man would tell them to stop, tried to shove them away, or wriggle out of their grasps, at first, but he was never successful. It was like a switch had been pulled in the Avengers heads. Knowing that Peter couldn’t get away from them, couldn’t run, couldn’t leave, allowed them more and more freedom to express their love.

They wanted to kiss him. Caress him. Feel him. Taste him. They wanted to make him feel good. Make him experience all the pleasure they could. Wanted to hear him moan, and gasp, and writher. They wanted to hear their name on his lips when he came. And then they wanted to do it all over again.

Peter discovered that, despite the chain that already shackled him to their home, the Avengers liked to restrain him even further, whenever things got more intimate.

Bucky and Steve both liked to use their superhuman strength. Steve would gather the thin wrists in one of his big hands, and hold them to whatever surface Peter happened to be on, before descending on the slighter body.

Bucky was the same, just that he exclusively used his metal arm to trap Peter’s hands with, so that his flesh one would be able to feel the others skin beneath him.

Sam and Clint almost always used the padded handcuffs that Tony had made, to bind Peter’s arms behind his back. Sam liked for Peter to straddle him like this, while he played with his body. Clint preferred to lay the younger man down on the closest soft surface, be that the couch in the living room, or whoever’s bed was nearest, and have his wicked way with him.

Natasha usually took Peter to her bedroom, where she used silk shawls and other soft ties to secure him to her bed. (”Tying someone down can have two implications, Lastashka. The most obvious one is that it makes you unable to resist and gives me complete control. The other reason is that it’s not about reciprocation. Being bound forces you to accept the pleasure that I give you, to let me take care of you, let me make you feel good and worship your body like it should be worshiped. If you wonder which one of those implications comes into play here, it’s actually both. I like being in control, Peter, but I also like making you feel good. Just let me love you.”)

Most surprising was probably Bruce’s fondness for Japanese bondage. The older scientist loved to put Peter in elaborate and complicated bindings (with special ropes that wouldn’t burn or shave at the delicate skin, of course). He would patiently and carefully wrestle the younger man into compliance, and then skillfully tie him up. The only reason the bondage never included a gag, Peter came to realize, was that Bruce would stop his work every few minutes, to kiss him tenderly on the lips, the cheeks, and his forehead. Sometimes they didn’t even have sex when Bruce tied him up, though the man always made Peter come.

Thor was probably the odd one out, as he didn’t have a specific method he used to restrain his lover. Sometimes he would use a soft rope, other times he closed the padded handcuffs around Peter’s wrists, and other times still the god of thunder would simply clamp his own, big hands around the slim body and manhandle him however he wanted to. One day Thor had stripped his love, pinned him down on his bed with one hand, and with the other, carefully, hesitantly, but full of anticipation, laid his hammer onto the youngers chest. Mjölnir wasn’t heavy in the sense that it crushed Peter, but it was completely impossible for the younger man to move out from under it. All he could do was claw at the bedding and move his legs to the almost overwhelming pleasure, as the Asgardian took him again and again.

Tony, even though he had been the one to design and make the handcuffs and various other restrains the team used on Peter, would usually direct one or more of the empty Iron Man armors to hold his Sweetheart in position. He loved watching as Peter ineffectually writhed against the unyielding hold of something he had created, while he kneeled before his captive, using the skill learned from years of being New York’s number one playboy, to suck him off. He always made Peter orgasm once, before he entered him. It was such a heady feeling, such a turn on, to see Peter experience a second release, while the billionaire himself was buried deep inside his warmth.

They made sure not to overwhelm Peter too much. He couldn’t be taken by everyone, everyday. And really, no one had a problem with this. After all, it wasn’t purely about sex. They loved Peter, and they loved making love to Peter, but fucking for hours on end was not the only way that physical attraction and devotion could be expressed.

Cuddling during movie nights, or taking a bath together, having him sit between their legs and leaning back into their chest while he was reading a book, were all things that were high on everyone’s list for making Peter feel special and loved.

Whenever it wasn’t Steve himself to share this kind of intimacy with his Honey, he liked to draw the scene before him. His sketchbook was full of pages upon pages of Peter being cherished by one of his team mates. (He always drew the chain, and sometimes the handcuffs, as well. The different restraints had become as much of a symbol for their love, as everything else had)

Three and a half months into Peter’s captivity, everyone was gathered in the living room, watching a movie. Peter was lying with his head in Natasha’s lap, the former Assassin lovingly stroking her hand through his hair. His legs were laid over Sam’s lap, with the man softly kneading his calves. The rest of the Avengers had spread out over the other couches and chairs in the room, basking in the peaceful atmosphere that knowing Peter was close by, always brought to them.

“Do you hate us?”

Natasha’s quiet question cut through the room like a knife, and Peter could see every one of the Avengers stiffen, as they waited for him to answer. He inhaled deeply.

“...No. I don’t hate you. I don’t like being locked up, I’m not always too happy about all the restraints, I miss being able to run around outside, jump from building to building, or just take a walk. I still don’t understand why you are doing all this,... But I don’t hate you.”

They all slumped a little in relief, Sam affectionately squeezed the ankle without the shackle, and Natasha continued to stroke through Peter’s hair.

“No more parkour for you, Doll. It’s too dangerous.” Came Bucky’s rumble to the brunettes right, and he could see the others nod their heads in agreement to this. He sighed.

“But we can talk about a few outings in the future.”

Natasha and Sam kept him from sitting up, but Peter still looked at Tony with wide, excited eyes.

“Really?”

The billionaire nodded. “If you agree to wearing a tracker, maybe an anklet. And at least one of us has to be with you. Possibly a few more rules that we will decide on then. But yes, really.”

Seeing the reluctant agreement to that in everyone’s eyes, Peter smiled widely. It wouldn’t happen in the next few days, he knew. Maybe not even for another month or more. But he would get to go outside again.

One day.

______________________________________________________________

That’s it folks.

As you can probably tell, I’m not very good with writing smut. (In fact, I didn’t really, explicitely, write any... sorry)

Which is why, if anyone is interested / wants to do it, I would not at all be opposed if someone wrote additional parts to this story.

The only thing I ask, is that you keep things nice. No degradation, humiliation or pain play, please. (Pain play would include things like spanking and orgasm denial. Orgasm delay is fine, but outright denial can not only be considerably painful, but might also have real, physical consequences.)

I don’t mean any offense if those are some of your personal kinks or likes, but I myself don’t enjoy those very much (or at all), and I don’t think they would fit into the mind frame of the story, or the Avengers.

299 notes · View notes

iloveyouthree-thousand · 5 years

Text

Dear Peter Parker

tagging @hailing-stars because you gave me the motivation to finish this story (it’s been killing me) and actually post it. Hope it doesn’t disappoint too much, love.

Peter listens to the breeze rustle past the material of his suit as he flies through the air.

He’d spent the better part of the first few weeks of being back sitting in his new apartment, occupying himself by staring at the bars at the top of his bunk bed. Counting them up and down until he couldn’t do it anymore, until they became a blurred singular mass of metal suspended above his head.

YouTube was another welcome distraction, but he could only see so many “I died, and came back to life?! *storytime*” thumbnails on his recommended feed before his throat felt like closing up again. Instagram wasn’t much better, because half of the world might’ve gone offline, but social media hadn’t quite gotten the memo.

If he thought FOMO was bad before, it turns out that scrolling through five years’ worth of memories that he’d missed out on was like taking that empty feeling and dialing it up to eleven. Some of his classmates were still sporting braces when he’d last seen them, and now they were graduating college and getting married and even having kids of their own—memories and milestones all preserved for him to gawk at like he was observing relics in a museum.

A month had passed since the Blip. The Snap. Whatever you want to call it.

It was just long enough for the Honeymoon phase to be over. The initial excitement of tearful returns had quickly become a scramble toward a new normal, into a desperate attempt to fit half of the population into a world that, even in their absence, had kept turning.

That was the worst part, Peter decided.

He’d imagined his death before—what his funeral would be like. Sometimes, when it was late and he was alone he’d sit up and wonder what his world would like without him in it.

It was a morbid thought, sure, but it had only been that. Thoughts. What-ifs.

He’d always pictured that, eventually, even the people that loved him most in this life would have to move on. He’d want them to move on.

He’d done it plenty of times himself—after his parents, after Ben. It didn’t mean he’d forgotten them, but there came a point in the grieving process where he’d realized that the sun would keep rising every morning, that he was going to keep living even if his loved ones weren’t.

It was hard, and sometimes almost impossible, but he’d done it.

So it made sense that when the circumstances were flipped and he was that was gone, the people in his life would learn to keep living without him.

But just because it made sense doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt to have to witness it first-hand.

Because this was a special form of hell most people don’t anticipate when they die: coming back.

Death was awful and sad and downright heartbreaking, but there was a certain finality to it. A sense of closure.

He hadn’t died. He’d disappeared, and somehow that was so much worse.

No one deserves to disappear.

No one deserves to face the reality of the world passing them by, to have to reopen wounds that have already healed, to have to shove yourself back into a script that’s already written you out.

Putting on the suit had been an impulsive decision fueled by a restlessness that he finally decided he couldn’t ignore.

The red and blue spandex felt more like home than his new apartment ever would, and Karen’s voice was a pleasant and familiar in his ear.

If he moved fast enough, swinging aimlessly through the city, it was almost as if nothing had changed—as if he had gone back in time, to five years ago, when the biggest stressors in his life were petty thieves on the street.

He sees the Tower in the distance—Tony had bought it back, at some point, had wanted to keep some connection to the city, just in case—stretching toward the stars, and before he knows what he’s doing his body is swinging toward it, driven by sheer muscle memory.

Peter sticks to the glass easily, and he climbs, one foot after the other.

It’s just him and spandex and sky, going on and on forever.

He feels like he should stop—should head back to the apartment that isn’t a home and count the bars on his bunk bed one more time—because climbing a literal skyscraper in this scattered state of mind screams bad idea.

“Peter, a fall from this height could--,” Karen starts, but he mutes her voice before she can say any more.

It’s a dumb idea, he knows that, but something in his bones begs him to keep going.

Maybe the world might would different from way up there. Maybe it’d finally look like home again.

He shoots a web to the top of the tower and spares a glance down.

The city is in repair, but it’s alive. Cars honk in the streets, people push past each other on the sidewalks. It’s New York—it’s always moving, it doesn’t matter if the world ends—New York doesn’t stop and wait for anybody.

From way up here, it’s like waving through a window, watching from outside the glass, helpless, as the world passes him by.

His breath hitches.

No one deserves to disappear.

He feels the web give way, feels the lurch of his stomach before the fear gives way to... numbness. Like he can’t feel anything at all.

And then he’s falling.

///

“Peter—hey!” Ned calls, running against the grain of students milling through the hallway.

“Please don’t be mad, but I got so excited and I couldn’t help myself and you weren’t answering your phone so I started the new set without you. Don’t worry, though, because I only got, like, the right wing assembled before I realized it’s not as fun without you there and--,”

The words fly out of Ned’s mouth in a half-comprehensible flurry until he stops to stare at the new baby blue cast his best friend is sporting.

“...what happened to your arm?”

Peter looks down at his feet, a blush creeping against his skin.

“I, uh... fell off a building?”

Ned scrunches his nose and leans closer.

“Were you,” Ned glances over his shoulder and lowers his voice to a whisper, “fighting bad guys?”

Yea, Peter thinks, something like that.

“It’ll heal in a few days,” he says instead, ignoring the question entirely, “May wanted me to cast it up anyway, you know. Just in case.”

He thinks it sounds convincing, and it must be, because most of the worry drains from Ned’s face.

“Oh. Okay. I just, uh, I thought you’d call me. I’m your guy-in-the-chair, remember? I’m here for you.”

“I know,” he says, feeling a twinge of guilt rise in his chest. He means it. Ned is a better friend than Peter deserves, that much he’s sure of.

“It just happened so fast and... I didn’t want to bother you.”

Things had just started to feel normal again, after the Blip. That’s what people had started to call it—the reversal of the Snap.

Some people were having a harder time adjusting than others, but Ned seemed to be doing better than most. His family had all been snapped and brought back together. He had a thing, for lack of a better word, going on with Betty Brant. He’d fallen right back into place in this new, messy reality, and Peter didn’t want to hold him back from that.

He didn’t need to know that Peter was having a much harder time with the whole thing, that he still had nightmares about the moments before, that he felt it when every cell in his body was torn apart.

But maybe Ned does know some of that, because he thinks he sees his friend’s smile fall just a little.

“Next time?”

The question hangs in the air for a second, and Peter swallows the urge to brush it off, to refuse his best friend who, bless his soul, just wants to help.

“Of course,” Peter says weakly, but it’s enough.

“Okay,” Ned replies, a finality to his voice, and he doesn’t push any further. Seriously, bless his soul.

“Do you, uh... do you want to sign my cast?”

In an instant, his best friend’s mouth perks back up at the corners and he’s already reaching into his bag for a marker.

“Dude,” he grins, “I thought you’d never ask.”

///

“Peter, I’m about to head out, but my phone is on so if you need anything,” she pauses when she gets to his doorway.

He’s sitting on his bed, managing an awkward attempt at pulling a sweatshirt over his head with only one good arm.

The bed dips a little when she sits down next to him and gently helps him pull the fabric over the blue cast despite his meager attempt at a protest.

He can smell the perfume on her skin and he flinches when he realizes he doesn’t recognize the scent. When he’d hugged her that morning before the field trip—a month ago, for him, but a lifetime ago for her—she’d smelled like apples and jasmine and sunshine.

She smells like vanilla and musk now, and it’s... different. Foreign. It’s just off enough to remind him that the woman in front of him, familiar as she looks, isn’t quite the same person he left behind. That thought makes him feel a little empty inside.

It’s a feeling he’s grown accustomed to in the past few days.

“Have you told Tony about that, yet?” She gestures to the injury on his arm, concern seeping through her eyes.

“No.”

May arches her eyebrow at him, silently prodding him for an explanation.

“It’ll heal by the end of the week anyway, and I don’t want to get him all worked up, especially when, you know--,” he stops short, biting his lip, “he’s still recovering. He doesn’t need—he needs to focus on himself, and he should be with Morgan and Pepper and his family right now. He doesn’t need to be worrying about me.”

The scent gets stronger the closer she gets, but he tries to ignore that when she wraps her arms around him. He clutches his fingers into the fabric of her dress and rests his head against her shoulder.

“We can’t help worrying about the people we love, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t deserve her.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, his face half-buried in her hair. She’d stopped dyeing it at some point, he notices, opting instead to let some strands of grey peek through.

She pushes against his shoulders until he’s looking straight into her eyes.

“Are you?”

He knows she’s not just talking about his arm anymore.

“Because I don’t have to do this—I can cancel right now. We can order a pizza, rent a movie. Just you and me.”

He knows what she’s really saying: we can go back to the way things were before.

“No, you should go,” he says quickly, pushing a smile onto his face, “I’ll be okay. Promise. You deserve a night out.”

May holds his gaze for a second longer, debating on if she should cancel anyway, despite his assurances.

“You promise to call if you need anything?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” she says, but it’s still hesitant. She doesn’t know how to approach anything anymore—how to piece together the new parts of her life and reconcile them with her old one.

Because how the hell do you do this?

It’s not like there’s a road map for navigating the return of a child you thought was gone forever.

The scary truth is that she’s flying blind, making it up as she goes and praying Peter knows that even though some things have changed, he’s still the most important part of her life. No matter what.

“I larb you,” she says, and she means it. She might be stumbling through everything else—pretending to know the right things to say—but the fact that she loves him? She knows that.

“I larb you, too,” he says back, and something sad flashes in his eyes before he covers it up with a smile.

“Tell Happy I said hey.”

///

He wakes up to his phone ringing in his hand.

“Hey,” he answers, still half-asleep, expecting May’s voice on the other end.

“Hey, kid.”

Peter’s heart freezes in his chest.

“Mr. Stark?”

“The one and only.”

“What’re you—why are, um, what’s up?”

“I tried calling you earlier, but you didn’t answer and I haven’t heard from you in about a week or so and May said you’ve been a little off lately so I figured,” the words tumble out of his mouth in a rush, and he takes a breath to slow himself down, “I wanted to see you.”

There’s something fragile in his voice that makes Peter want to cry, but he wills the tears back into his eyes when he hears a knock on the door.

“And I hope that’s okay,” he can hear the voice on the other side of the door and through the phone at the same time, “because I’m already here.”

The key turns in the lock and suddenly he’s staring right into Tony’s face.

He drops the phone from his ear and Tony does the same.

“Hey.”

“H-hey.”

Tony moves first, taking a step inside and closing the door behind him. Peter’s still frozen to the spot when Tony assumes the seat next to him on the couch.

He notices the cast immediately.

“What happened to your arm?”

“Nothing,” Peter blurts, “I just... fell.”

His eyebrow quirks up.

“Are you patrolling already?”

He thinks about saying yes, because that would be easier, but something about Tony’s fingers running gently over his cast makes it impossible to lie.

“Not exactly,” he says, deciding to deflect instead.

Tony’s gaze flickers from the blue material to Peter’s face and back again.

“So I’ll ask again,” he says, his voice pressing and concerned all at once, “what happened to your arm, Pete?”

Peter’s eyes train on the paisley designs of the carpeted floor.

“I wasn’t patrolling. I’m not quite... I’m not ready for that, yet. I just needed a breather, you know? Because I see you guys with your new lives and I’m happy for you, I am. It’s just that sometimes this is all... it’s a lot to take in.”

Tony seems a little surprised by that, runs a hand through his graying hair.

“I didn’t think about how hard this has to be for you. I’ve been so focused on the fact that you’re here and that you’re alive... I didn’t think about the other side of it.”

The man looks right into his eyes, and Peter’s caught off-guard by the awe that’s still there—the same awe from that moment on the battlefield, when he’d hugged him close and looked at him like the planets had all aligned.

“It’s selfish, isn’t it,” Peter asks, but it’s not really a question. He shouldn’t be feeling this way—shouldn’t be feeling this lost when people like May and Tony’s lives were flipped upside-down and had only just been righted again.

He shouldn’t be resentful of the fact that May has Happy now, or that Tony has Morgan and Pepper and his little lake house in the woods. He shouldn’t hate that the world hadn’t paused just for him, that it passed him by. This—the look on Tony’s face right now, the softness in May’s voice when she’d realized he was really back—this should be enough.

“I could never think you’re selfish, kid.”

His mind flashes back to that night—to feeling utterly insignificant as he looked down at the world from the top of the Tower.

“You would,” he argues, his voice breaking as something inside him shatters, “if you knew how I really broke my arm.”

Peter can see the exact moment the pieces click together in Tony’s brain.

“I went to the Tower, because I thought it would help me make sense of everything, but it didn’t. I felt... I felt even further away from everyone. And then I was up there and the ground was so far down and for a second it just seemed like it would be easier if I--,” he’s choking on every other word, his throat stinging on the acid rising from his stomach.

“I didn’t fall, Mr. Stark,” he can see Tony’s Adam’s apple bob, can see the tears pricking in the man’s eyes as Peter admits to him, almost inaudibly, what he hadn’t even wanted to admit to himself, “I let go.”

The next few moments are a blur of sobs and hiccups and limbs tangled together as Tony lurches forward, almost on instinct, and holds him so tight he thinks his arm might break again.

“You should hate me,” Peter whispers, “May, too. I don’t deserve you. After everything I already put you guys through--.”

“Hey,” Tony quiets him, “nothing in this world could ever make me hate you, and I’d bet my whole life on May feeling the same way. I know it’s messy and complicated now, and I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through, but you belong here, Pete.”

Peter sniffles in response, and Tony pushes him back just enough to meet his swollen eyes.

“I wish I would’ve known how you were feeling. I wish I could just zapped the hurt away. I wish that, when we fought Thanos the first time, I could’ve saved you.”

He takes a breath.

“I’ve come up short a billion different ways in your life. And—despite what other people may think��I’m not arrogant enough to believe that I won’t keep coming up short, kid. There’ll be moments I miss, spaces I can’t quite fill. But I’m still going to try. I’m going to sit right here when everything around you feels big and hold you until it all feels small. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this together, okay?”

Peter swallows, burrows into Tony’s side.

“Okay.”

May comes shortly afterward, and Tony rubs Peter’s back while she holds his hand and listens through tears as he tells her about that night, about the night he’d felt so numb he felt like he’d needed to do something, anything to feel again. About the night he’d climbed up ninety-three stories just to dive down.

Tears and hugs and apologies are thrown through the air like confetti, all landing together in an mess of intertwined arms and blotchy faces.

“I’m sorry,” Peter says, one last time, the sound muffled by the warmth of someone’s shoulder.

“Shh,” May coos, the pads of her thumb pressed to his cheek, “we’ll make it work sweetheart, just like we always have. No requiems tonight.”

“We love you, kiddo,” Tony adds, “no matter what.”

For a second, the world falls away.

He knows that it won’t last for forever, that the same big bustling world is going to be there to greet him tomorrow, but for right now he fits perfectly in the spot between Tony and May.

For now, everything feels just a little bit smaller.

///

There’s an empty spot next to Peter when he wakes up to the sun streaming through the blinds. May’s arms are still tangled around him, which leaves...

“Right here, Pete,” Tony calls out from a chair across the room, looking like he hadn’t slept all night. A stack of papers that weren’t there before sits on the coffee table in front of him.

“My therapist had an idea,” he explains, nodding toward the pile. “I wasn’t talking to her. I didn’t... I didn’t want to face the fact that you might never come home. She thought it might be good to write letters, instead. I thought it was stupid, at first, but eventually it helped. It made me feel like, somehow, I could still talk to you. There were so many things I wanted to say, that I’d wished I’d told you sooner, and it gave me an outlet to do that. You don’t have to read them, if you don’t want to, because I’m sure most of them don’t make a whole lot of sense anyway, but if you want--,” he trails off.

Peter picks up one of the papers, hesitant.

He reads one, then two, and before long he’s almost through them all.

They all start the same way, Dear Peter Parker, and vary from there.

One of them talks about moving to the lake house.

I think you’d like it out here. It’s quiet, which is good, because sometimes I think that big brain of yours gets a little too loud. If and when you come back, there’s a room for you upstairs. I’ve even got those god-awful gaudy Yoda sheets you love so much tucked into a closet just for the occasion.

A few talk about Morgan.

I was terrified, kid, when Pep told me the news. I barely know how to take care of myself, let alone a tiny human. But Pepper’s always been my beacon of wisdom, and one day she smacked me upside the head and said that this wasn’t going to be anything new, that I’d already had years of practice. I’d never thought of it that way before—but she’s right. Of course she is. You’ve always been something like my kid, and in Pep’s words, I’ve even got the gray hairs to prove it.

The letters grow farther apart as the years go on, but the sentiment stays the same.

You haven’t been forgotten.

Tony watches, holding his breath, as the kid tears through letter after letter. He feels like he should be embarrassed, essentially baring his soul in written format, but the way Peter stares at each page with reverence supersedes anything else.

These words were long overdue, anyway.

May has long since woken up by the time Peter grasps the last one in his hands, reading silently over his shoulder.

This one isn’t quite like the others. It’s dated for today.

Dear Peter Parker,

Today is going to be a good day and here’s why: because today you’re you and you’re here and that’s enough. Because you’re not in this alone. Because even when the dark comes crashing through, when you don’t feel strong enough, you’ve got me and May and Ned and everyone else to carry you. I know you feel lost, and a little bit broken, and that’s okay. We’re going to be here, and we’re going to help you get back up on your feet. You’ll find your place here, kid. If there’s one thing I’m sure of more than anything else, it’s this: if you look up and look around, you will be found.

-T.S.

There are tears pricking at his eyes when he finally looks up.

At some point, Tony has reclaimed the spot next to him, and he and May exchange turns pressing kisses to Peter’s forehead.

“I’ve said it a million times, but I’m going to keep saying it until you believe it: you are not alone, Pete.”

You are not alone.

You belong here.

He looks outside, sees the same sun continue to rise, the same sky go on and on for forever, the same city continue to pass by, but this time it feels different.

This time, he does believe it.

Maybe not right this second, but somehow, someday, he’ll be okay.

#irondad #peter parker #tony stark #may parker #ned leeds #dear evan hansen #fic

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oh-theatre · 5 years

Text

Sycamore High: An Ending (Almost) (Chapter 39)

A/N: One more chapter bois!!! Honestly, I love Tommy so much holy jeezus, hopefully, I can remember how to do comedy in the sequel again oop! Anyway, leave me some comments. Also, I love Tommy and Ted and my heart legit can't take how much I love them

summary: Its the last day of finals, and the last day of school. What could go wrong?

words: 3158

warnings: Swearing, negative thoughts, kissing, violence

Edited by: @theyreallidiots (Seriously please go give them some love, they're amazing and I love them with everything I have)

Ao3 Link

Finals Day 3...

“Tommy, right?” Tommy glanced up, his eyes adjusting to the figure standing in front of him. He blinked, realizing how exhausted he was. The library was quiet, huddled in a corner with all his materials and supplies, Tommy was studying.

“Hmm?” He hummed, he didn't really have it in him to speak. The figure chuckled sitting down next to him, Tommy shifted giving him some room. He could see his face better now: his hair was dark and long, it fell to his shoulders in a wavy formation. His face...was boring. Not in a bad way but there wasn't anything special about him. He was cute, sure, but that's about it. Tommy recognizes him from his English class, he sits in the back, he doesn't talk much. He extended his hand towards Tommy. “English class,” Tommy said.

“Yeah” He chuckled again, Tommy hated the way it sounded as if no matter what Tommy said, he would smile and play along. “I’m David,” Tommy nodded shaking his hand, he didn't really have time for this and hoped the conversation would end soon. “I..uh recognized you...from class” He rubbed the nape of his neck, avoiding Tommy’s eyes. His lips curled into a sweet smile or at least an attempt. “You're like...really smart” He complimented. Tommy pressed his lips together swallowing an exasperated sigh.

“Thank you...I’m sorry, I'm really bus-”

“Oh yeah! Totally, sorry...don't let me disturb you” He gestured to Tommy's work. Tommy eyed him but went back to his papers, he tried to work but he could feel Davids intense stare. He put his pencil down looking back up at him. “Sorry, it's just…” David looked him over, his eyes twinkling, his lips in a half-smile. “You’re...really cute” He pushed his hair behind his ears

Tommy’s heart sunk, he was being flirted with, never had he hated a feeling so much. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. He looked back up at David, his smile as fake as he could make it.

“Thanks! My boyfriend sure thinks so” He chirped, and there it was. David's face fell, his smile disappearing becoming confusion. His eyebrows furrowing, he let out a small laugh.

“He's very lucky, and where might he be?” David looked around expectantly. Seriously? Tommy thought you're still going? He didn't really know how to respond, once his free period was over, he had a final and he really didn't have time for...whatever this was. It was almost selfish of him to wish Ted was here.

“I...I don't know” Tommy admitted. He was probably studying with Charlotte and Emma right now, seeing as they had free periods as well but he couldn't be sure. They used to know where the other was because they were usually together. And sure, some might say that's a bad thing but...it worked for them. And they loved it. They loved each other, Tommy loved him. “You know what? I have to go” But this time, he wasn't running away from someone, he was running towards them. He collected his things, not giving David another look and rushed down the hall and out of school. He was really hoping Ted would be at the coffee shop they always went to, and lo and behold.

Ted sat behind Charlotte fiddling with her while Emma lay strewn across Charlotte's lap reciting something. Tommy could almost laugh had he not been so nervous. Ted looked up noticing him, his eyes actually grew, the pupil dilates when it sees something it likes. Or at least that's what Tommy remembered from class, his mind was a little preoccupied right now. Ted stood, much to Charlotte's disappointment, well, until she saw who he was standing for. Tommy wasted no time, he took Ted’s face and kissed him. Ted was clearly taken aback but melted into the kiss nonetheless, realizing how desperate he was for this moment. Tommy giggled happily, wrapping his own arms around Ted's neck. Charlotte tried really hard but her heart was so full, she squealed Emma tried to stifle it but she was just as happy. Ted pulled away eyeing his friends, they quickly returned to their work shrugging. Tommy cupped Ted’s face pulling him back towards him.

“Hi” He smiled, his heart, much like Charlotte’s, was full. Ted shook his head trying to swallow a smile, he smothered Tommy in more kisses hugging him right after. “I’m so sorry dearest” Tommy whispered in his ear. “How do I make it up to you?” He asked pulling away, Ted shook his head once more.

“You don't ha-” he paused, an idea popped into his head. “Sing with me” He marveled, Tommy laughed slightly. Ted stood his ground however, he didn't budge.

“Oh! You're serious?” Tommy’s eyes grew wide, Ted nodded.

“My parents wanted me to sing at the wedding...and I want you to sing with me” Ted admitted, Tommy forced a squeal squeezing his hands. To be honest? He didn't know if he would be here for the wedding. He wanted to, so badly but his parents were pretty adamant about him leaving as soon as he could. Ted bit his lips, still smiling. “What?” Ted could tell.

“Nothing! I'd love to” he lied, well he would love to but...would he be able to? But no more, he was going to be here for Ted. As long as he could, he just had to convince his parents to let him stay a little bit into summer and it would be fine. “What are we singing?” He asked, his heart still racing from excitement to be back in Ted's arms.

~~~

“Bill Dorris!” The name echoed the auditorium. Ted always felt like this ritual was stupid and would cause low self-esteem for the students but watching Bill, shocked, rushing up to stage to accept the award, Ted felt nothing but pride. He definitely showed it by cheering the loudest. “Congratulations to Mister Dorris for winning the ‘Best Academic Student’ award”. The principal handed the boy the award, Bill was almost crying behind his glasses. He quickly returned to his friends, receiving an abundance of hugs and ruffling of the hair.

“Nicely done, dude” Paul complimented, Bill, smiled up at him. The principal called back attention. They turned to him and shushed.

“Next, as requested by Mr. Hidgens, our drama teacher-” Ted shouted out a single cheer, receiving weird looks but he didn't care. “Thank you, Ted” The principal shook his head at the boy, the school laughed. “As most of you know, the drama finals consist of singing a song, what those students didn't know is that those were auditions” The group stopped smiling and turned to one another, Tommy hid a smile. Those who were interested in the musical but were not apart of the class were asked to audition months ago, just as Tommy had done, his heart sank realizing he would have to pull out. “So, I'm here to formally announce the cast of Starship for next year! The cast is as follows” The list was something so many students had not expected to hear, but they were on the edge of their seats.

“Bug: Ted

Commander Up: Sam

Taz/Bugginton: Emma

Tootsie Noodles/Pincer: Tommy

Mega-Girl: Deb

February: Charlotte

Junior/Veeto Mosquito: Paul

Specs/Neato Mosquito: Alice

Roach/Krayonder: Bill

Overqueen/Sweetheart mosquito: David

The Caller Bug/mister bug: Paul”

Ted’s jaw dropped hearing his name first, Paul was pretty shocked playing so many roles but excited nonetheless. Emma was delighted to hear her name called and getting a kiss on the cheek from Paul was pretty exciting. Charlotte looked to Ted and they shared a knowing look. Guess their chemistry was undeniable, on stage of course. Jackie hugged her, proud of her achievements. Paul shared a look with his sister, nodding at her for finally gaining enough courage to audition. Tommy bit back his lip, trying not to cry. He smiled and nodded at every single one of his friends, and kissed his boyfriend lovingly, but his stomach churned sadly. Bill nodded appropriately and congratulated his friends. David looked up and winked at Tommy who didn't reciprocate anything. Deb smothered her girlfriend in kisses, Alice returned the action. Sam smirked to himself but ultimately was just excited to perform again. They all were, junior year was going to be fun.

~~~

“Ok, kiss, marry, kill” Ted started pointing his fork at Paul. The teen returned the gesture, mocking his friend. “The try guys” He decided, Paul scrunched his eyebrows. Tommy rolls his eyes, returning to his conversation with Bill. The girls sit in their usual spots discussing other things.

“There are four try guys dumbass” Paul noted, Ted smiled coyly.

“Yeah, so double up loser” Ted replied, Paul, shrugged stuffing more salad into his mouth. “Alright, I'll go first. Mmm...id...kill Ned” Paul mocked a gasp, Bill stifled a laugh “Kiss...Zach and marry Eugene and Keith” Tommy turned to him, a smile placed on his face, but curiosity and confusion riddled his face. Ted turned to him, kissing him on the forehead. “Polyamorous baby” He joked, Tommy playfully pushed him off awaiting Paul's answer.

“Ok lame, I’d kiss Zach and Ned, marry Keith and...kill Eugene” He decided, Ted can't even fathom his response. “What? Don't hate me cause im right” Paul defended, Bill turned now facing them.

“Even I know you don't kill Eugene, Paul” Bill commented. Ted gave him a high five, posing a confident ‘told you so’ face to Paul.

“I’d marry Zach” Tommy joined in, munching carefully on his carrots. Ted smiled at him, the tug at his stomach in delight. “That's all, the rest can do as they please” He finished, Ted chuckled softly nodding.

“Ok moving on” Paul continued, he waited for the rest to turn to him but to no avail. “Ted?” He asked impatiently.

“What?” He focused back on Paul, the teen smirked.

“You've never played tuber simulator?” Paul teased, Ted laughed sensibly. Bill and Tommy shared a quick glance.

“Hey, have you seen Joe?” Ted inquired carefully, playing out his part to perfection. Paul raised a brow.

“Whos Joe?” Paul gave in, no one matching the name.

“Joe mama!” Ted cheered victoriously. Paul turned to Emma instantly.

“Just kill me” He requested. Emme stroked his cheek lovingly, turning back to Charlotte and Jackie.

~~~

“You look wonderful, bubbles” Jackie complimented tying up the back of Charlotte's dress. She let her hair down, turning back to her girlfriend.

“I love you!” Charlotte quipped wrapping her arms around Jackie's neck. Jackie giggled kissing Charlotte, moving to her cheek. Charlotte pulled away “Sorry J, I gotta finish getting ready”. Jackie groaned, falling back onto the bed. She finished her braids and slipped her jean jacket on.

“I look like Rosa Diaz” Jackie smiled, admiring the new jacket she made. Charlotte smiled, wrapping her arms around her. She kissed her cheek from behind. “Hmm, can I do your hair?” Charlotte shook her head, tying her own hair up with a ribbon to match her dress. “Oh pretty, nevermind you've got it” Jackie kissed her cheek.

“I'm so excited for dinner!” Charlotte exclaimed putting her earrings in, Jackie helped her with her necklace. “Everyone back together! Tommy! Ted! Paul! Emma! Bill!” She turned to Jackie “You…”

“I love you, bubbles” Jackie kissed her, wrapping her up in a hug. Charlotte squealed as Jackie spun her around. “Oh! We gotta go” And so they did, saying goodbye to her mother and heading out the door.

~~~

“Ok stop stop stop” Tommy chided, he undid Ted’s tie fixing it neatly. Ted pouted kissing Tommy on the forehead, Tommy pulled him closer meeting his lips.

“Oh my god, I missed you” Ted sighed. Tommy chuckled wrapping his arms around his neck. Ted did the same around Tommy's hips. “Hey, after dinner tonight we should take a walk in the park” Ted proposed. Tommy giggled, his head landing on Ted’s chest. “What? I think it would be nice” Tommy looked back up at him.

“It would be pitch dark, and one of us would get killed,” Tommy said honestly, Ted smiled kissing him on the forehead. “I love you but that's just not plausible,” Tommy told the boy, Ted nodded agreeing. Tommy wished he could stay like this forever, and his face showed it. His eyes avoided Teds, his mouth quivered.

“Gumdrop?” Ted asked, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily. Tommy looked up and shook his head, he stood on his tiptoes kissing Ted softly, connecting their lips. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, dearest” He patted Ted’s chest, pulling away and going to the mirror. Ted stood behind him wrapping his arms around the smaller boy. “Ted” Tommy giggled “I have to get ready” Ted moaned, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek. Tommy’s heart sank, he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay like this forever.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but Jackie just dropped off Tommy’s skirt” Paul poked his head through the door, Ted pulled away beaming. “She said it was done last minute because she wanted to put some more stuff on it” Tommy smiled sadly, he squeezed Ted’s hand nodding a thank you to Paul. He took the skirt looking at it. “Ted, your dads wanna see you” Paul notified before leaving. Ted kissed Tommy on the cheek before leaving. He set the skirt down clutching his chest, he and Jackie had been making this one for a while. It was put on hold for finals and she finished it. But something changed, he didn't want to. He shoved the skirt away putting on an old suit he brought from his house. It fit comfortably, and fine. It was...fine.

“Hey, look at mister fancy pants” Chad declared as Ted emerged from his room. He did a little spin showing off his new suit, he was test running the outfit before the wedding. Tommy emerged after a moment in a suit, Ted furrowed his brows. Paul followed in wearing a suit as well. “Well look at the three of you” Chad took a picture.

“Yes, you all look very dashing” Henry admitted, he handed Chad a drink. Paul smiled, he was really missing home. He talked to his mom every day but he missed his room, his bed, the smell when he got up in the morning. The back and forth with his sister. He loved Ted, and Ted’s house and the professors but it wasn’t home. “I hope you enjoy your night out boys, you two-” Henry pointed to Paul and Ted “Home by eleven, got it?” They nodded, Tommy, intertwined his fingers with Ted.

“I'll make sure of it, doctor Hidgens” Tommy assured, Henry, nodded at the boy. He was excited to see him back, Ted had instantly become happier with him around and it had only been a day. “We should go, we need to pick up Bill” Tommy reminded, Ted and Paul, nodded. They said their goodbyes heading out the door.

~~~

“Emma you look… stunning” Paul breathed as his girlfriend walked through the door of the restaurant. He stood greeting her, kissing her cheek and pulling out a chair for her. She sat next to him, her dress flowing beautifully. “I love you” he confessed, the table silenced laughing. He was clearly head over heels for this girl.

“Thanks, babe” Emma stroked his cheek, kissing it softly. “So...we did it! Sophomore year is over!” She declared, the group cheered happily. She grabbed a menu, skimming through the options. The rest of the group did the same, except Tommy and Ted they shared a look. Emma noticed and looked at them “What’s up you two?” She asked the group looked up at her.

“Tommy just wants to say something” Ted admitted, Tommy swat his arm softly. “What? It’s true” He teased, he kissed his boyfriend's cheek encouragingly.

“Um well… I wasn't planning on telling you all right now, but it’s as good as any I suppose” He looked around the table, he didn't want to bring the mood down but he had to tell them. “I'm leaving next year,” The group burst into a chorus of complaints, Tommy squeezed Ted’s hand. “I'll be back for senior year… I think” I hope “I’m going to a boarding school in France… I don't really have a choice” He explained, Bill put a comforting hand on Ted’s shoulder. “Um… my parents are letting me stay for the wedding but then… I’m leaving as soon as possible” Tommy finished.

“I hate this” Charlotte decided, a murmur of agreement was heard “I hate this so much”

“Look I just wanted to tell you, that's all, can we please move on?” Tommy begged, after more arguing and frustration they agreed to move on. “Ok, how about the musical guys?” Tommy proposed excitement buzzed throughout.

“Ted! Congrats on the playing ‘Bug’!” Charlotte announced, Ted blushed hiding it with his menu “Guess we just are the perfect couple” She joked, the group chuckled. Tommy shot her a playful glare. “I’m kidding, I clearly have the better significant other” She kissed Jackie on the cheek.

“Hey, congrats on Pincer” Bill told Tommy “I know you don't get to play him but it’s still pretty cool” Tommy smiled gratefully. It was pretty cool and he was definitely going to ask Chad about the decision, mostly because he didn't see it himself. Tommy wasn't the type to play a meaningful role, but he supposed that's what acting was. He should take it as a compliment having such a big range. He was excited to return senior year and audition for Falsettos.

The dinner continued, a wonderful way to close off the year. Sharing stories:

“So you and Charlotte kissed?” Tommy almost laughed, Ted nodded shoveling food in his mouth. Charlotte giggled, Jackie, eyed the pair. “I… I have so many questions”

“It was for practice!” Ted defended, Tommy laughed into his shoulder. “I… shut up,” He said burying his face into the food.

Gushing over each other:

“I just love you all so much!” Charlotte announced, Jackie kissed her lovingly on the cheek.

“Oh, ditto that feeling” Paul commented, Emma laughed. They all did that night, down to the last dessert they ate.

Confessions:

“Bud, no matter what, we support you” Ted assured, Bill, smiled at him gratefully. He wiped away his tears, feeling foolish.

“Thank you guys...seriously” He confessed “I don't know how im supposed to tell my dad”

“Your dad is the most supportive person. He wouldn't care if you decided to like...become a murderer as long as you were ok.” Ted joked, Bill chuckled followed by the rest of the group “He’ll love you even if you are aro and ace” Ted's voice became more serious, Bill stood going over to his friend. They shared a hug and it was perfect.

Sadly...the night had to end

Then they went their separate ways. Emma got picked up by her mother, passing out as soon as she stepped into the car. Paul drove Bill home, dropping off Tommy at his house. Paul and Ted headed home sleeping as soon as they got home. Charlotte and Jackie had a sleepover, spending the night watching Barbie movies and playing with Maggie and Token. It was perfect, and the night went perfectly. It wrapped up a weird year that was, in the best way, weirdly perfect. There was a lot they still had to figure out but that's why they still had two years to go. Two years…

#sycamore high #tgwdlmhs #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #starkid #jon matteson #joey richter #lauren lopez #robert manion #mariah rose faith #jaime lyn beatty #corey dorris #my writing #writing #ao3 #archive of our own

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