#still losing my mind over how pete initiated the kiss

[freensrcha]

'But a guy like you, it's no fun when you don't give in.'

[usertoxicyaoi]

I've been wondering, and this isn't something you necessarily have to answer, I'm just thinking in your direction because vegaspete. But I've been thinking, when exactly does vegas realize that he wants pete? That he WANTS wants him? Because this starts out in a place of maybe curiosity, but ultimately as humiliation and as taking control from pete against his will and the thrill that comes from that and from pete's reactions to that.

I'd say the conversation about their fathers was a pivotal moment, and it is, but at this point he's already taken care of pete in a panic when he could have just let him die. Would have been the easier way, and I wonder, if it had been tawan in pete's stead, would he have saved him? Then again, tawan was of some use to him and once he ceased to be useful, he disposed of him without remorse. Probably not vegas' first boytoy to meet that end after blindly having played their part, either.

Which begs the question, of what use was pete? Could he have killed him, as per his father's wishes, if he hadn't already tortured him and found him to be curiously interesting? Or did it start before that? Was pete's reaction an essential piece of the puzzle but not the first piece? How consciously has he been collecting these pieces or did they just accumulate and then fully start clicking into place when pete refuses to be intimidated by him?

Is Pete's sole use that vegas needs to explore that curiosity? That he just gets a kick out of it? But when does he start caring? Because his reaction to pete hanging unresponsive and feverish from the ceiling isn't annoyance at having to do something about this, he's genuinely distraught and, in caring for him, for the first time showing genuine gentleness towards pete (thinking about how carefully he dresses the wounds, among other things). Is it because he's starting to care for pete as a person or is it because he can't let another pet die. Or a bit of both mixed together?

When does he go from *forcing myself on you and seeing you squirm is fun* to 'with a guy like you it's no fun if you don't give in'? When does he start needing pete to want him?

I also just really love his mood switch in that scene. Going from his most sensitive (that we know he associates with weakness) to a display of thinking himself back in control: if you want me, do something about it, take it, let yourself go, submit to me; effectively handing the control over to pete. And pete takes it. And not only that, him handing over that rope to bind his hands with is such a mindblowing display of trust amidst that whole dynamic and vegas loves it.

But when does he realize he loves pete? One could argue he makes love to him in that moment (seriously, their sex scene still blows my mind with how reverent and sensual and loving it was and I am constantly torn between trying to watch pete's face and being absolutely captivated by the absolute devotion in vegas' every look and touch and kiss ugh perfection), but when does he know?

Does he know when he looks at pete afterwards? Or when things escalate to a point of him being in real danger of losing pete to a knife that he himself originally put there in mindless anger? Or when the realisation hits that pete is not coming back this time and he's left alone with two plates of food? Or when pete is unable to shoot him and looks at him in agony and cries into his shoulder, knowing that he's responsible for that pain? When does he know? And when does he accept it?

(I'm inclined to say he definitely knows when he's crying after their separation and accepts it during their meeting afterwards at the latest but that's just a guess)

I don't even know where I'm going with this anymore and I kinda got distracted from my initial question of 'when does he want him' which is not the same as 'when does he fall in love with him', but this is just a stream of consciousness anyway, so I'm leaving it at that and letting it bounce around in my head a bit more while simultaneously throwing it at you, I hope you don't mind xD

hiiiiiii anon!!!!!

okay this is a Very Juicy Meta ask. and i'd love to give my pov on it!

i think pete catches vegas' attention pretty early on tbh. this isnt me talking about vegas wanting pete rn just yet. this is me talking about pete catching vegas' attention. now hear me out.

in ep 6, we have the condom sharing scene. ep 7 is where pete spends a bit more time with vegas along with the other bodyguards. and in ep 9, we have the temple scene. by ep 10, vegas has captured pete.

now, its interesting bc i think vegas most definitely knows, not even suspicion, he KNOWS from as early as ep 6, that pete is tailing him. when he gives pete the stuff in the paper bag, he tells him "i know you've been on the lookout for a while". vegas Knows. and its interesting bc even as early on as this scene, vegas gives pete some bread, because "you might get hungry". so food plays a role even as early on as here!! and since vegas knew pete was tailing him, he buys a packet of condoms. now, why? why buy condoms, put them in the bag on PURPOSE when the entire package was meant for pete anyway?

its all intimidation. all of it. and every time vegas has touched pete, up until ep 10, pete's reactions are his classic Go To Dopey Wide Grin and jumping at the touch. but the condoms, and the way vegas says "would you like to share?" is just ... Very Intimidating. he clearly is telling pete here that i Know you're tailing me, and you're Not Even Good at it, and bc you're Not Good at it, and you get caught, and yet you STILL keep tailing me, i'll let you carry on, bc i'm having Fun seeing you squirm and seeing how resolute you are at your job, even though, you know, you Suck at following me (which, oh vegas .......... oh VEGAS ........... how you end up EATING your own words up by the finale when you say "why are you here pete? why did you follow me?")

so yeah. pete catches vegas' eye from very early on. but vegas sees him as harmless at this point, bc pete hasnt ruined anything for him. he hasnt ruined his plans, hasnt come in the way to ruin or fuck up any of his schemes etc.

so they work together in ep 7. and lots of talk between them focuses on hunger and food and vegas being able to provide pete with food whenever he desires it, and to not hold back or be shy in taking what he wants and eating it. and pete is hugely impressed by that. so much so, that food and appetite bleeds into the scene where vegas says "you might wanna look away bc you'll lose your appetite", just before he begins his torture session. of course, every other bodyguard looks away apart from pete, who just stares and stares and stares, his appetite isnt lost, and vegas stares back at pete who he saw was the only one who could stare, who had the stomach to stare, who had the appetite.

so even that catches vegas' attention. that pete didnt flinch or look away when he saw a glimpse of vegas' darkness, whilst everybody else did. he stayed. he looked back. and i think vegas from then on realises that pete isnt all that he lets on that he is ("but you like it, don't you, when i'm like this? everytime i get moody, your eyes tell me that you like it." from ep 12, just before they kiss and have sex, and how WONDERFULLY that parallels to the ep 7 torture scene, where vegas stares back at pete who is staring at him whilst vegas is COVERED in blood, and cant look away from him).

also, not to forget the "looking for something?" scene. vegas CLEARLY checks pete out. his eyes ROAM and SCAN pete's entire body. but even then, vegas doesnt use anything more than just touch to intimidate pete. yes he is in vegas' sight, but he still isnt That Important yet, to do or use anything more than touch to intimidate and co-erce. or rather, he hasnt derailed anything vegas has got going on just yet to make it worthwhile of vegas to use anything more than touch to get his point across to pete.

so then, by ep 9, vegas is still bemused that pete is tailing him. even so far as to here, its still bemusement, bc pete still hasnt hindered anything for vegas yet. now, the temple is A Choice that vegas made to lure pete in with. now, why a temple? only Vegas knows. maybe he DID see how pete bowed in ep 7, and saved that bit of info for later use. but. i think. and this is my fucked up side coming out: but vegas uses the contrast of a place so holy like the temple, and gropes pete, an act of sexual misconduct and harrassment, 2 such polar opposite concepts, to TRULY fuck with pete. thats ALSO a darkness vegas is letting pete see into, that this is how shameless he is, that in a temple, a place of worship and Godliness or holiness and purity and sanctity, vegas is thinking about the lewd, the impure, the filthy, about sex. its such A Choice, such a Vegas thing to do, and its pure intimidation, just like the ep 6 condom scene. like, he may know that pete has some inclination towards religion, and vegas himself does too, but honestly, the idea of using the juxtaposition of sexual misconduct in a temple? is so Vegas. to get his point across. and he did. he sent pete into a trance. he GOT INSIDE pete's head, even if it was for a short while.

which then takes us to ep 10! and NOW. NOW is where pete has finally done some Proper Damage to vegas. has caused a hindrance. has made his entire little mastermind plan result into something futile. and this is where vegas SEES pete as someone who is Good at his job. finally!. even though he got caught. he managed to finally make his mark. now, up until this point, vegas has seen how resilient and resolute pete is, how he has an appetite for vegas' darkness. vegas knows all of this. so now, its finally time for vegas to really just ... unleash himself entirely onto pete, no holdbacks, and see if pete can withstand that. which he did. and that REALLY fucks with vegas. because yes, physically, he maybe the one in control, but emotionally, its pete who is in control. its pete's reactions, his smiles, how he simply DOES NOT LET UP, that causes vegas to spiral.

and vegas tries so HARD to break pete. torture, touch, threats, violence, and pete withstands it all. even when he's speaking to his grandma, and he screams at vegas after it, saying "are you happy now?". like. here, vegas thinks he finally cracked pete. even when he points the gun his dad gave to him to kill pete with and he says he wont kill him because he likes to see him suffer, likes to be with him because its fun, sees him as a pet that will keep him company at the safehouse bc he doesnt wanna go alone - which is funny, bc he was gonna go with his hegdehog, so he wasnt alone!, but, alas! even tho vegas called pete a pet here, he gave him some humanity, by saying he doesnt want to be alone. bc being with an animal who is a pet, and a human who is a pet, are 2 very different things. animals dont talk back, dont bite back, dont laugh back in complete mockery with an intent to goad, not in the way humans do, not in the way pete does.

and i think that bleeeeds into the rest of ep 11, in particular where he is forcing pete to eat and when he spots pete completely out of it and panics. you cant force an animal to eat, not in the way you can with a human, like vegas did with pete. vegas at this point needs/wants pete to stay alive. bc yeah, surface level, its all very entertaining to him, where he loves how defiant pete is to him and gets a kick out of punishing him for his disobedience. and i think a huge part of that lies with the fact that vegas doesnt want to be alone. and with pete, he isnt alone, despite calling him his pet. he isnt alone with pete, in the way he would be had it only been him and his hedgehog.

that is fundamentally the use of pete in ep 11, just before he's unconscious. he's there for vegas for emotional projection, as a fun little pet, a toy, a puppet on strings, all tied up, doing what vegas wants him to do, so that he doesnt feel alone. and pete's constant defiance of him is that one trait that is THE DIFFERENCE between vegas treating him as a human compared to an animal - the scenes where vegas feeds his hedgehog and then looks at pete who hasnt ate IS the example of that. that he gives them both food to eat. the hedgehog doesnt refuse it. pete DOES. thats what makes him human. and that defiance to him: a) makes pete crawl under vegas' skin even more, b) makes vegas wanna eliminate that feeling bc he is the one who should be in power and control here. thats what pete's use and purpose is. so far.

and then he falls unconscious. and nononononononononononono NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOO NO NO. NO. THAT was not meant to happen. bc that scare alone is enough of a reason to remind vegas why he didnt kill pete in the 1st place: because he doesnt wanna be alone. pete's defiance, the only trait that's so far made him as human as possible to vegas, GIVES vegas something to be accompanied with. but then again, he is his pet. he has a duty of care. see if vegas didnt give 2 shits about pete, why would he even BOTHER giving him food?? he could just let him die. so easily. but vegas DOESNT want to be alone, which means he needs to keep pete alive, just like his hedgehog. he needs to take care of pete, just like his hedgehog. and so if pete is unwell, or sick, he will panic, he will need to take care of him, bc pete IS his responsibility to bear. vegas CHOSE to keep pete alive, so he now has to bear the responsibilty. ("are you very hungry? can someone else take you to eat?" "you dare push me away? you dare push me away, vegas? and why the hell did you tell me that you wanted to be with me? i'm your pet, aren't i?")

only now, there's an added layer. bc pete isnt just a pet. hes a human. a human UNDER HIS RESPONSIBILITY. vegas has killed before, he's gotten blood on his hands before, what does HE care about that? god, he shot tawan and he didnt give a SHIT, and this was the man he was gonna marry! and yet pete? pete's entire survival at this point relies solely on vegas ("and i'm hungry now. and you walked out. so i had to come find my owner!!!!"). THATS the difference. and if he ends up killing pete, that is a WHOLE DIFFERENT type of blood on his hands. hence why he mourned his hedgehog with so much sadness and grief - he didnt even shed a tear for tawan!

and if that wasnt emotionally charging enough, then as soon as pete regains consciousness, they talk about their dads. fuck, not even THAT, pete continues to be defiant and wont accept the medication. that ONCE AGAIN reminds vegas that pete is human. and this time, he's so gentle in telling pete that his wounds are inflamed, he needs to take them. he reasons with pete. REASONS. he lets pete be human here and treats him humanly in return. and then pete asks HIM what happened to him, when pete 2 seconds ago was half dead. and i think its just .... the jumping from wall to wall and the paradox of it all, just takes vegas by surprise a little. that how does pete SEE it? how does he SEE it? and, well, pete's already put 2 and 2 together ever since he saw vegas' dad abuse him at the start of ep 11, and knows his dad is an abuser. and its the conversation that is a turning point. its where they connect on a human level: that, oh, he and i have been through the same thing, as humans. not as a pet and owner, but as humans. the other side of his coin - though it doesnt hit him just yet. that comes when he says "i know you're suffering inside." that comes when he says "at first, i thought i was a freak, until now."

so when does the attraction, to want pete on a HUMAN level, come in? to need pete to want him come in? i'd say that last scene of ep 11, the "i havent poisoned your noodles!! eat them so that if you still hate me you'll atleast have the energy to kill me later!". is the start of it. here, again, vegas speaks to pete humanly. he offers food to pete humanly. thats not to say there still arent undertones of him treating pete like a pet animal here: he knows pete is healing, and just like how you'd treat a sick pet animal with TLC, thats what he does to pete here too. but the line blurs a little. bc pete once again SEES the bruises on vegas' face and asks about them. and they connect again on a human level. and vegas feels a little bit more better about himself after what pete told him about how the abuse isnt his fault. so he cooks for pete, hot steaming noodles. maybe its him returning the favour. maybe its just a bit of TLC bc pete is sick. maybe its just him starting to treat pete more like a human. and maybe its a bit of strange bemusement how pete manages to just ...... be the way he is, whilst being in the circumstances he is. he asks vegas to kill him, but doesnt want to be poisoned. he talks to himself, whilst knowing vegas can hear everything. and vegas just ... softly smiles at the HUMANITY that pete displays.

and it becomes even more real when they talk about blood types. bc. oh. THATS human. and vegas WANTS to know pete's blood type. THATS human. and what pete's blood type means. THATS human. and pete does the EXACT same. pete shows AN INTEREST in vegas. human human human. and its all going SO WELL, and vegas is enjoying it so much, the smirks, the eye rolls, the interest. and then he gets called sensitive, and how he needs love.

but everything he's ever loved has always ended up leaving him, causing pain and grief and loneliness and a sense of mourning in its aftermath.

so Fuck That. and he kicks the book away. and pete realises that theres .... a Lot to work with here. that love is an extremely touchy subject.

and i think its. something i havent seen spoken about. but only whilst im answering this ask that ive come to realise. what a CLEVER and downright Fucking MINDBLOWING parallel it is that, as one pet (pete) starts to heal because he is allowed to be human, the health of the other pet (the hedgehog) begins to deteriorate, until the hedgehog himself ends up dying bc it can no longer bear it anymore. and isnt that EXACTLY what ep 13 was? as soon as pete was in the chains again, was made to feel like a pet (animal) again, everything went downhill, pete's entire mental state, his self worth, his process of self-realisation collapsed, bc he was no longer human anymore, so much so, that he couldnt bear it anymore, because, you know why? it felt FUCKING INCREDIBLE to be human with vegas. THATS all that pete didnt know he needed until he had it. and to go from THAT, so fundamentally and primally and carnally human, to being a pet again? god. the mental toll and whiplash of it all, the earth shattering numbing feeling of it all. for it to be snatched. and it hurts to the point where pete would rather die, kill himself, because he isnt human, just a pet again.

and so i think. when does vegas realise he wants pete to need him? would be when he realises pete stayed, despite having the chance to run. its one thing pete stayed, but that could be completely out of sympathy, something we Know vegas LOATHES (from ep 14 and korn treating him and macau like charity). no. if pete stays, and vegas tells him he wants him, sexually and intimately, then pete BETTER want him like that too, not as a sympathy fuck. not as someone who can be his guardian angel and saviour. no. he needs pete to want him in the exact way he wants pete. so vegas prods and probes and teases, just to awaken something in pete. just to let pete know that THIS is how i want you. and then he backs off, leaving it all in pete's hands to make the next move - here, its ALL human. every undertone of pet and owner has vanished.

and i think the moment vegas realises its love, is "and you know why". bc he couldnt kill pete. and he realises pete cant kill him. and its for the same reason. but that feeling of "this is deeper than anything else previous to this" is brewing since "at first, i thought i was a freak, until now." because that has vegas feel differently about all of this. he doesnt feel like a freak, he doesnt feel filthy. so what does he feel then? its whatever it is that he found pete out to be: someone, a human, that is the other side of his coin, his mirror, and just how sexy and fulfilling that can be - to have someone who wants it and gets it, no matter how dark and twisted the want gets. and i think ... once vegas reached that point, he didnt want to go back. and its why the image of pete bleeding out, saying he doesnt feel human anymore, holding the knife to his jugular, haunts vegas. absolutely WRECKED him. but then, it was still for more selfish reasons: stay with me because i need you, stay with me because i dont wanna be alone - more or less like it was at the start, but different because vegas' emotional needs had now been met, he had a taste for it, and couldnt do without it.

and he still had the ... audacity? nerve? hope? faith? to think that just like before, pete would come back. but this time he doesnt.

and love is selfless, right?

so then, outside of the bar, this time, vegas is the one who walks away. he apologises. and then he walks away. despite the fact that vegas shouldnt even BE out bc he's fucking blacklisted. AND YET. he came to pete. this time, HE followed pete.

and he walks away leaving pete feeling like a human, not a pet. he walks away, not telling pete that he needs him, but that he's sorry. that vegas knows now why pete cant kill him, and he's sure pete knows now why vegas cant kill him either. and that if theyre both feeling this, that's human. and that he's sorry. and maybe pete touching his face is pete somewhat telling him he needs him too, feels that same pain too, feels that "and you know why" too, despite and against everything ("you just have to accept and be true to who you are. i just live in the present. what i'm feeling, that's all i think about.").

[sacredsorceress]

My Hero || Peter Parker

pairing: civilian!peter x avenger!reader

summary: when your boyfriend, peter, gets invited to the stark gala for his internship, you have to try to make it through the night without him finding out that you’re secretly an avenger

a/n: peter is in college here! finally another oneshot for our boy petey- reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 3.9k

warnings: reader has spidey’s enhanced senses, there’s a gun, fluff

masterlist || request || taglist

Pushing open the door of the building you had just had class in, your eyes immediately met those of your boyfriend sitting on the bench waiting for you outside. As soon as you saw him a smile reached across his face and he pushed himself out of his seat, making his way over to you.

“Hey, Pete-”

“- So I don’t know how I got one of these-” Peter started rambling, walking beside you. “They handed it to me and in my head I was like ‘this has to be a mistake’ you know? ‘Cause there’s no way I would get invited-”

“Woah, Peter, slow down!” You laughed, turning to your boyfriend. “What are you talking about?”

Realizing that he hadn’t even told you what he was going on about, Peter stopped and began shoving his hands through his pockets. When you stopped your pace in front of him, you watched as Peter pulled an envelope out of his pocket.

“What’s that for?” You asked.

A smile spread across his face once again as he pulled the invitation out of the envelope.

You swore you felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Stark Industry’s logo printed on the piece of paper.

“It’s for this party thing-”

“-Gala.” You corrected him.

“Yeah!” He said. “Gala! It’s for this gala that Mr. Stark is hosting and you know- at first I didn’t think I could be invited, but it has my name and everything.”

You began to tap your feet as he explained this all to you, feeling your anxiousness grow.

“So, are you going to go?” You asked, praying that he wouldn’t say the answer that you were sure he was going to give.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked.

You knew it was a rhetorical question. At least in Peter’s mind there wasn’t a logical reason as to why a 19 year-old intern for Stark Industries shouldn’t go to a Gala- it could open so many doors for him and it was a rare honor- but you knew things that Peter didn’t. To be more exact, he didn't know the things you were keeping a secret from him.

You had known about the Gala before Peter had even mentioned it because you had been invited yourself, not as a Stark intern, but as an Avenger. You had only found out you had abilities a few months ago when you had been bitten by a radioactive spider. Later you had been discovered by the group, but managed to have your identity remain a secret. 

It’s not that you didn’t trust Peter enough to tell him- you were going to tell him- just not yet. You needed more time.

This Gala invitation felt like Tony Stark was purposefully trying to ruin your life, despite the fact that you had never informed him- or any of the Avengers for that matter- that you and Peter Parker, his intern, were dating.

“Of course I’m gonna go!” He said. “Mr. Stark invited me. This is big for me, Y/n. And... guess what?”

“What?” You asked, not particularly enjoying where this conversation was headed.

“I have a plus one.” Peter said.

Of course he did.

“Oh that’s awesome, Pete!” You smiled, beginning to walk in the opposite direction once again. “I’m sure May would love to go!”

Jogging to catch up with you, Peter grabbed hold of your arm, pulling you back.

“May?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why would I ask May? I want you to go with me.”

Looking at your boyfriend, you felt so guilty for lying to him. He was the sweetest person you had ever met and as he smiled at you, hopeful to have you on his arm at tonight’s event, you couldn’t find it in you to say no to him.

“I’d love to go, Peter.” You said. “Pick me up at seven?”

“Yeah- wait.” Peter said quirking his eyebrows again. “How did you know it was tonight?”

Shit.

“Oh!” You chuckled. “I... I don’t know why I figured that. So... seven?”

Slowly nodding his head, your boyfriend nervously chuckled. “Yeah, seven.”

“Okay!” You exclaimed, leaning in to peck Peter’s cheek before pulling away. “I have to go meet my professor. See you later!”

And with that you took off in the other direction, your mind filled with worries about tonight’s event, planning ways in your head to keep your double life a secret from your boyfriend. As you did, Peter watched you walk away, still glued to his spot sensing that something just wasn’t right.

-

Clipping on your earrings, you heard the sound of Peter’s knuckles meeting your door, lightly knocking. Pulling the door open, your eyes met Peter’s and you smiled.

“What do you think?” You asked, gesturing at the dress you were wearing.

You watched as Peter’s jaw practically dropped and he reached out his hand for yours.

“W-woah.” He said in awe, a smiling reaching across his face as he pulled your hand, twirling you around. “You- you look so beautiful, Y/n.”

Despite the anxiety that you were feeling about the night ahead of you, you couldn't help but smile at his compliment. No matter how often he called you beautiful, you still became a smiling mess every time.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Mr. Parker.”

He didn't. Standing in front of you, you couldn’t help but notice how much your boyfriend had gone out for the Gala tonight- adorning a a black tuxedo, his hair slicked in a way that you were sure was his Aunt’s doing.

“Since when do you have a tux lying around?” You asked, tugging on the labels of his jacket.

“I rented it a few hours ago. May picked it out.” He told you, resting his hands on your waist. “D-does it look okay? I thought it might look better than the old suit at-”

Pulling on the lapels once more to bring his lips to yours, you kissed him, quickly shutting him up as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. Smiling and  pulling away you straightened out his jacket.

“You look amazing, baby.” You whispered. “Now let’s get going shall we, Mr. Parker?”

“We shall.”

-

Stepping out of the cab and onto the sidewalk outside of the museum where the Gala was being held, the thoughts that you had been pushing aside for the last nine hours suddenly came to the surface as your heart began to race in your chest.

How were you going to keep everything a secret? You hadn’t even told the other members of your group that you would be attending with your boyfriend... your boyfriend who didn’t know that you had super-human abilities or that you were one of them.

As Peter laced his fingers with yours, squeezing tightly before guiding you towards the building, you gave him a soft smile while all you could do in your head was attempt to haphazardly form a plan.

Stepping inside the foyer of the museum, it was clear that no expense was spared for the night. The room was filled with people you didn’t recognize, waiters with flutes on trays weaving through the crowd. The sound of the orchestra playing mixed with the sounds of the hundreds of conversations around you.

It was times like these that you weren’t so glad to have your abilities, the light of the chandelier glowing brighter in your eyes as your enhanced hearing tuned in on ten conversations around you.

Unlacing your fingers from your boyfriend’s, you pulled him closer.

“I’m going to go find the bathroom, okay?” You told him. “I’ll be back.”

“Already?” He asked. “Do you want me to wait outside or-”

“No!” You exclaimed a bit too excitedly before lowering your voice. “I’ll find you.”

Before he could say anything else, you pushed through the crowd of people, leaving the foyer of the museum to find an empty hallway. When you finally pushed through your last person, reaching an empty exhibit within the museum, you slumped against the all.

Why did you think this was a good idea? Although Peter would have initially been upset with you declining his invitation and Tony Stark would no doubt find it suspicious that you cancelled so last minute on his end, at least you would be spared from the nervousness you were feeling now as your hands became clammy and the air felt as though it grew thicker by the second.

“Y/n?” You heard a familiar voice ask.

Pulling yourself away from the wall and glancing over your shoulder, you looked up to see Natasha Romanoff standing in the doorway of the exhibit.

“Sorry,” You said, playing with one of the bracelets adorning your wrist. “I can leave if I shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay, kid.” She said, smiling. “I didn’t see you come in.”

“Yeah,” You said, chuckling. “That’s because I came with my boyfriend.”

Tilting her head, she smiled.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. So your boyfriend came with you?”

Although you knew what she meant, you shook her head.

“Nope,” You told her, popping the p. “I came with my boyfriend. He... he’s an intern for Stark. He thinks I’m here as his plus one.”

“... But you’re an Avenger?” She said.

“He uh.. he doesn’t know that.”

You felt guilty finally saying it out loud, confessing to your mentor that you had been lying to your boyfriend about not only having super-human abilities, but about being a part of the Avengers, risking your life to save others almost weekly.

Rather than lecturing you, she made her way over to you, leaning against the wall beside you.

“I can understand that.” Natasha said before sighing. “But... I also understand what it’s like to live a double life, Y/n. You can’t keep living like this. It’ll make you sick and at some point you’ll lose yourself in the two.”

“But how can I tell him?” You asked, turning to face her. “I’ve been lying to him for so long and he’s just so sweet, Nat. He’d be so worried about me if he knew.”

“You said he’s nice, right?” She asked, smiling as you nodded. “Then tell him. He’ll understand and if he doesn’t... at least you’ll feel better because right now you look like shit.”

Scoffing at her insult you elbowed her. “Thanks, Nat.”

Patting your back and shoving herself off of the wall, she laughed. “What am I if not honest?”

Before you could throw her another snarky comment, however, you watched as she strolled out of the exhibit, heading back into the Gala.

Letting her advice sit with you, you knew that she was right. You had never been as stressed as you were hiding your identity from your boyfriend. You were actually less anxious fighting bad guys than when he would go to grab a pencil from your drawer where you kept your web shooters when the two of you were studying.

You had to tell him- if not for your sake at least his own.

You were afraid to tell him, but Nat was right.

He deserved to know. He was your boyfriend and one of the most kind, honest and understanding men you had ever met- he deserved to know what his girlfriend was up to every night and even the danger he was putting himself in by choosing to be yours.

You decided then that you were going to tell him... except not tonight. Tonight was his night- the night where he finally felt like an appreciated member of Tony Stark’s staff- and he didn’t deserve your limelight ruining it.

Straightening the dress you were wearing, you made your way out of the exhibit and back into the expansive foyer of the museum. Tuning in your hearing, you looked for your boyfriend, but when you heard his voice muffled with Tony Stark’s... it was too late to turn around.

“Y/n!” You heard Peter call. “I’m over here!”

Taking a deep breath, you waved back to your boyfriend, forcing a wide smile onto your face. Striding over to Peter, your eyes met Tony’s whose quickly went wide as he pieced together the situation in front of him.

Before he could open his mouth, however, you extended your hand to him.

“Mr. Stark!” You exclaimed. “It’s so nice to meet you. Peter’s told me so much about you- I’m a huge fan- really.”

Slowly taking your hand and shaking it tightly, he quirked his eyebrows, staring at you for a moment before turning back to Peter.

“Parker,” Tony said, pulling his hand away. “if I knew you had a girlfriend like her, I would have promoted you sooner.”

You felt Peter’s hand wrap around your back to rest on your waist as he smiled brightly.

“W-well thank you, Mr-”

“You know,” Tony said, cutting him off. “I just can’t get over it. She looks exactly like this girl I know. What did you say your name was again?”

You should have figured that Tony was going to give you a hard time.

“Y/n.” You told him, through gritted teeth.

“Y/n...” He said your name again, before chuckling. “God I almost feel like I’m talking to her-”

Before he even had the chance to finish his sentence, however, you heard the overwhelming sound of the glass window that spanned the length of the room shattering behind Tony. Turning your attention to the area, you watched as a large robot-like creature climbed its way into the foyer, kicking it’s legs through the remaining wall. Behind you the crowd of people began to erupt into screams as they rushed out of the doors of the museum. 

“Holy shit!” You shouted, stunned by the android.

At your side you felt Peter’s hand grip yours and when you turned around to face him, you watched as he attempted to pull you in the other direction towards the door, tugging on your hand.

“Y/n, we have to get out of here!” He exclaimed.

You had hoped you had more time.

You had hoped you would be able to break it to him nicely.

But as you turned back around to see Tony Stark’s Iron Man suit forming around him and the robot stepping inside the building, you knew you were out of time.

Pulling your hand out of Peter’s, you watched as a look of betrayal washed over his face.

“I can’t Peter!” You shouted, reaching your hands behind your dress.

“What? What do you mean you can-”

“Are you in or are you out, Y/n?” You heard Tony ask.

Glancing between him and your boyfriend, the sound of the robot destroying tables echoing throughout the room, you nodded at Tony.

“I’m in.”

“What do you mean you’re in-”

Ignoring Peter, you undid the laces on the back of your dress, the fabric falling to your feet.

You were thanking yourself for choosing to wear your shorts underneath your dress right about now.

“Good.” Tony said. “Your suit’s coming in three.., two...”

Stretching your arms out, you felt as the high tech machinery of Tony Stark’s  “spidey suit” for you met your skin. The material stretched across your body, covering your skin until it finally reached around your face, forming your mask.

Turning to look at your boyfriend, you saw his eyes go wide, his mouth practically dropping to the floor.

“What... Y/n-” He stumbled over his words.

Picking your dress up off the floor, you shoved it into your boyfriend’s arms.

“Peter, you need to get out of here!” You shouted over the sound of destruction in the background.

“I- I-” He continued, still glued to his spot. “You’re Spider-Woman?”

“Hey!” You heard Tony shout. “Save the Soap Opera for after we stop this thing!”

Glancing back at Tony and then to Peter, you gently shoved Peter in the direction towards the door.

“We’ll talk about this later!” You shouted, jogging backwards. “Just get out of here!”

Without turning around again to look at Peter’s face, you shot a web towards the android, flinging yourself towards it. When your web met the android’s chest you landed a swift kick to its head before shooting another web, spinning yourself around the android’s body.

“Shit!” You shouted. “This thing’s strong! Can someone help me out?”

As soon as you asked, you watched as a familiar shield came straight for the android’s head, dodging out of the way at the last second, it collided with its face, stopping the animatronic from moving its arms long enough for you to swing yourself around them, webbing them down at its sides.

“Thank you!”

As Tony continued to blast at its face, trying to get a reading on what this creature was, you shot a web towards its waist, swinging yourself around its body once again.

“Taking out the legs, Y/n?” You heard Cap’s voice ask through the earpiece of your suit.

Huffing and Puffing, you replied. “That’s the plan!”

Pulling the webs that you had spun around the android’s knees tighter, you groaned, feeling the strain on your muscles. Just as you were about to lose your grip, the webs slipping from your fingers, both Steve’s shield and the rays from Tony’s palms hit the back of the android’s knees, knocking it onto the floor. Jumping off of the being at the last second, you landed on your knees.

Pushing yourself onto your feet, you heard the clicking sound of a door within the android’s torso opening. When you looked up, your eyes were met with a man who had a gun raised in his hand... pointed at you.

“Hey!” You called shakily, raising your hands. “We can talk this out.”

“Talk this out?” The man said. “I spent two years working on this-”

Before he could say another word, however, the loud clang of a platter meeting the back of the man's head rang throughout the room. When he fell to the ground, your eye’s met Peter’s who stood behind him, the silver tray in his hand.

“Peter?” You asked, tapping the side of your neck so your mask would retract from your face.

Dropping the tray to the floor, he doubled over, hands on his knees.

“That was...” He said huffing. “... so... cool!”

Rushing over to Peter’s side, stepping over the unconscious man’s body, you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s back, listening as he wheezed. Knowing his aunt well enough to know that she wouldn’t let Peter leave the house without his inhaler, you slipped your hands into his pant pocket, pulling out the device and placing it in his hands.

As he inhaled a quick two puffs, his breathing slowly evening out as his airways opened up, you and him looked up to find the attention of the rest of the team on the both of you.

“Well,” Nat said breaking the silence, staring at the unconscious man on the floor in front of you. “I guess love really does conquer all.”

Hearing a chuckle settle over the group surrounding you, the next person to speak was Steve, stepping in front of Peter and reaching his hand out for him to shake.

Glancing between Cap’s hand and face, Peter straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Oh, wow.” Peter said in awe, shaking his hand dramatically. “M- Mr. Captain America, sir, I’m a huge fan.”

Smiling, Steve laid his hand on his shoulder.

“I can say the same about you, kid.” He said. “You gotta stand up for your girl- no matter how strong and capable she may be... I would know.”

Without saying another word, leaving Peter starstruck in his spot beside you, Steve walked away towards Natasha. Tony was the last to come up to the two of you.

“Well, Parker,” He said, tapping his wrist so that his suit retracted from around his body. “I gotta say- I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“T- thank you, Mr. Stark.” Peter said nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“I guess we can consider making you a paid intern now.” Tony said. “You saved an Avenger and now you get paid minimum wage- sound fair?”

Nodding his head smiling, Peter took Tony’s hand in his, shaking it. “Yes! Thank you, sir. You won’t regret it!”

“I know I won’t.” He said, pulling his hand back and stepping away from him. “And Peter?”

“Yes?”

“Be nice to her.” Tony said finally shooting you a wink before heading towards the rest of the group standing over the unconscious man.

Glancing down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers, you looked up at Peter.

“I’m so sorry for not telling you, Pete.” You said, taking a deep breath. “I was just so scared. At first I didn’t even know what was going on with me and then the Avengers found me and my life just got so crazy, but you always treated me like I was just me... I didn’t want that to change and I.... I didn’t want you to leave me once you found out.”

Taking your fidgeting hands in his, he squeezed tightly.

“You thought I would leave you?” Peter asked.

You nodded.

“Y/n, I- I would never leave you.” Peter said seriously. “Yeah, it’s super cool that my girlfriend’s Sider-Woman and you look... like... really hot... in that suit-”

“Peter.”

“But I love you.” He told you finally. “Not Spider-Woman- you.”

You weren’t able to help the smile that reached across your face as you listened to your boyfriend. You should have known that Peter would never hate you- especially not for something as cool as having super human abilities- and you almost wanted to laugh at yourself for worrying so much over it. In the end all that mattered was that Peter now knew and he chose to be with you anyway.

Taking your hands out of his, you cupped his face in your hands and pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling away.

“Thanks for being my hero tonight, Peter.” You whispered.

Smiling, gazing at his face you couldn’t help but notice the blush that began to rise to his cheeks as he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh that? That was nothing.” He chuckled.

“Hey! Love birds!” Tony shouted from across the room. “The press has gotta be here any minute- better head out unless you want your face on the front page.”

“You’ve got it, Mr. Stark!” Peter called back, waving his hand.

Waving goodbye to the members of your group one last time, you laced your fingers with Peter’s guiding him towards the door.

“Got my dress?” You asked.

Pulling your dress out from behind a nearby vase, he continued his pace handing you the bundled up gown.

“Couldn’t forget that!”

Smiling you slipped behind a wall near the entrance, pulling your gown on. Without asking you felt Peter come up behind you, lacing up the back of your dress as you tapped your wrist, your suit retracting with your touch beneath the dress.

“I don’t know about you,” Peter said, tying the laces. “But I’m-”

“Starving?” You asked, laughing.

Stepping back from tying up your gown, he laughed. “Yeah, want to go grab some post battle dinner?”

Taking his hand in yours, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. “How can I say no to that?”

[padsnprongs]

this is for @anythingforour_moony’s writing competition!!

Prompt: “Who ate my pudding??”

If there was one thing that Remus Lupin loved more than life itself, it was chocolate. Chocolate bars, chocolate cake, chocolate pudding, you name it, he would eat it practically inhale it. Not only would he gulp down anything with the slightest trace of chocolate, he would hoard it. He had secret stashes hidden all over the school. Throughout his five and a half years at Hogwarts, his stashes had remained undiscovered.

Or so he thought.

Without his knowledge, one silver-eyed, mischievous Sirius Black had discovered his little secret months ago. Actually, if he was being honest, he found it rather endearing. The image of one Remus Lupin, engulfed in that adorable green sweater of his, tawny curls falling onto his face, amber eyes gleaming with that enchanting golden tint that Sirius often found himself mesmerised in, happened to be the main source of Sirius’ serotonin regardless, but adding that to the image of Remus Lupin, curled up with some chocolate from his secret little stash, perfectly content, was even more adorable, if that was at all possible.  

Yeah… Sirius would really have to do something about this crush of his.

And so, Sirius hatched a crafty scheme: he would steal Remus’ chocolate from his stash. Not to eat! Oh lord, no. Maybe just to hide for an hour or two? At least until Remus noticed it was gone, which surely wouldn’t take long; the guy was obsessed. Once Remus had figured out that Sirius had stolen his chocolate, he would probably be rightfully mad. And then he would hopefully start spewing something about morals and boundaries or something. And maybe that, in turn, would help Sirius see that maybe being with Remus wasn’t all he’d thought it up to be, and maybe this silly little crush of his, could finally come to an end. Sirius’ main aim was just to find a way to make Remus mad, and stealing his chocolate was apparently the best way to go about that. 

The plan may have been long-winded and, frankly, ridiculous, but Sirius was desperate. He couldn’t go on like this – just being in the same room as Remus was enough to give him the complexion of a tomato, and surely someone would notice that soon? It was too risky; no one could ever know.

Little did Sirius know just how hard he had fallen.

That was how Sirius found himself sitting in the common room, absent-mindedly watching Peter try desperately to Vanish a table, and James hurriedly scribbling a Potions essay. However, the only thing he could concentrate on was the fact that Remus had just disappeared into the dormitory and was bound to discover what he had done any second now.

Not long after, his suspicions were confirmed. He heard the dormitory door slam, the sound echoing through the tower, followed by the sound of footsteps crashing down the stairs. Remus skidded to a halt at the bottom of the staircase. Sirius’ mouth was dry with anticipation; he could feel his heart about to burst through his ribs. He had no idea what Remus’ reaction would be, but he was notorious for being incredibly overprotective of his chocolate.

Sirius did not fancy his chances.

Remus was annoyed, to say the least. He had had a particularly good day, so imagine his disappointment and frustration when he hurried towards his trunk, only to find that the chocolate pudding he’d been eagerly looking forward to all day, had disappeared. And Remus knew he hadn’t misplaced, or already eaten, the pudding. There was only one possible explanation. One of those three idiots had eaten it. He wasn’t as angry as he could have been, mostly because he genuinely had had a great day, but he was irritated, nonetheless.

That was how Remus found himself storming down to the common room, ready to have a serious conversation with his friends about respecting boundaries. However, not everything goes to plan. When Remus reached the bottom of the staircase, his gaze landed on one Sirius Black. Remus, as so often happens, was mesmerised by the grin which seemed to light up any room, the eyes which seemed to be swirling in the ocean depths, and the hair which seemed to catch the sunlight, shimmering with the slightest movement. Sirius’ charm was infuriatingly distracting, and Remus couldn’t help but to lose himself in those breathtakingly bright eyes, which were gleaming like the moon.  

Come on, Remus, snap out of it. Feeling his face start to heat up, Remus took a deep breath. There was a more important matter at hand.

“Alright, which one of you was it?”

“What’s up, moony?” James replied without looking up.

“Who ate my pudding??” Remus narrowed his eyes at the three boys and seemed to notice Sirius’ eyes widening. As he watched, Sirius ducked his head behind those glistening curls of his, refusing to meet Remus’ gaze. This was unusual only in that the other two boys had looked up at the mention of Remus’ chocolate. It was the reaction of a guilty person. Remus knew it, Sirius knew it, and he was pretty sure James and Pete had also figured it out. 

‘Sirius?’

‘Hmm?’

Sirius still refused to meet his eyes, which only made it all the more obvious that he was guilty.

Remus waited expectantly, hoping that Sirius would say something; this was awkward enough as it was. Finally, Sirius glanced up.

‘Erm… I’m just gonna go take a quick shower… yeah, I haven’t had one since quidditch practice…’ Sirius stood up hastily, but found his way blocked.

‘Sirius Orion Black. If you have done what I think you have done,’ he warned under his breath, enunciating every syllable to ensure the message was crystal clear, ‘I will send you straight to Filch’s office myself, and tell him what really happened in the girls’ toilets yesterday. You can’t fool me.’

Sirius gulped. Although he was aware that he was currently in deep, deep shit, a part of him desperately wanted to make a ‘straight’ joke in reply to Remus’ threat. However, Sirius felt that may not bode well with the fuming werewolf, who was currently glaring into his soul. So, instead, he did the only reasonable thing he could think of; he ran. Scanning for all possible exits and realising the portrait hole was blocked by a giggling group of girls, he sprinted straight for the stairwell. Taking the steps three at a time, his heart pounded nervously as he heard Remus in close pursuit. He slammed open the dormitory door with enough force to make it rattle in its hinges and dived for his bed. Rolling across the bed, Sirius fell through the drawn curtain on the other side and landed on his feet. Although he personally felt that this was a move worthy of James Bond himself, there was no time to dwell, because he had probably pissed Remus off even more, if that was possible.

Speaking of Remus, Sirius had no idea where he’d gone. He could swear his pursuer had been mere footsteps behind him moments ago. Narrowing his eyebrows, he approached the dormitory door cautiously, when, out of nowhere, Remus barrelled around the corner, straight into him, and rugby tackled him to the ground. Winded from pure shock, Sirius could do nothing but flail desperately as Remus wrestled him onto his back and pinned his wrists above his head.

Suddenly, all the anger and all the panic evaporated. Their faces were mere inches from each other, and Sirius could hardly breathe. Remus was staring into his eyes, and Sirius noticed how the amber seemed to darken and his pupils seemed to expand.

But he had no time to think, because he could feel his heart pounding faster and faster, even though he had stopped running. He would have guessed that it was because of the pure intensity that comes with someone laying on top of you, pinning you to the ground, and staring deep into your soul, seemingly getting lost in your eyes, but his brain could barely comprehend what was happening.

Wait. No. That pounding he had felt? That wasn’t his heart. That was Remus’ heart. What? Why would Remus’ heart be beating faster? Shut up. Suddenly, Sirius became hyper-aware of Remus leaning closer to him.

‘Erm…’ he managed to mumble, now oddly self-conscious of how his breath smelt.

‘Tell me to stop.’ Remus whispered, so softly that Sirius could barely hear. Tell me to stop what?? What does that even mean?? What is he doing??

Remus was now so close that their breaths were mingling, and if Sirius moved slightly, he could probably have brushed their noses. Why the hell would I move slightly?? Are you crazy?? Let’s just see what he does.

And Sirius barely had time to process what happened next, because Remus’ lips curved into a soft smirk, no I am not watching his lips thank you very muc- HOLY SHIT, and then they crashed against his.

Remus’ lips. Crashed against Sirius’ lips.

Sirius’ nervous system was going berserk, his brain was short circuiting, and all he could think about was every point where Remus was touching him.

Time seemed to slow down; everything else faded away until it was just him and Remus.

Remus’ mind had a similar reaction. He swore he could see fireworks behind his eyelids and, despite his nervousness at initiating the kiss, what if I misinterpreted it?? I’ll literally ruin our whole friendship!! Ah you know what, fuck it, he ate my pudding, we don’t have a friendship anymore, those few moments were possibly the best of his life. But then, if it was possible, those moments grew even better; gradually, as they both got over their initial shock (and, let’s be real, a little bit of *gay panic*), they relaxed into the kiss. It turned away from passionate and hungry, and more towards comforting and slow.  

Sirius’ intestines seemed to be fizzing and twisting, his fingers tangling themselves in those golden curls that he was so incredibly crazy about.

Well, he thought, that’s my plan gone to shit.

[parkertech]

Tattoos & Tears — CHAPTER 6

a/n: on everybody's 18th birthday, they get a tattoo of their soulmate written on their wrist. for you, it's your best friend who you thought you got over. who even has a girlfriend of his own.

warnings: swearing, slight smut

———————————————————————

The room seemed to shrink more and more as seconds were spent in pure silence. Peter never left his glaring eyes from you, eyeing how you couldn’t look at him. Instead you kept twirling your fingers and looking at them.

You knew eventually the secret would be out, but now that it became a reality, it was way more intense than you thought it was going to be. You’ve never seen Peter look at you like that. It’s always been smiles and laughter, twinkling eyes and happiness. Now, it’s silence and glares, hands in tight fists and waiting for someone to say something. Peter was getting impatient by the minute, and was tired of the rather very undeserved silence you were giving.

“Speak.” It wasn’t a question. It was more of a demand. His void was raspy and cold, causing shivers to run down your back and goosebumps to arrive on your skin. You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it immediately afterwards. You wanted to scream sorry and confess your heart out. You just wanted to drop all your walls and let it all out. But the words wouldn’t come up. It obviously didn’t make Peter happy. It only made him angrier.

“SPEAK!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. He ignored how you flinched and stepped away from him. All his friends could have easily heard him, but that wasn’t his focus either. His focus was on how betrayed and hurt he felt. You never kept secrets from him, especially something this big. His heart was aching from your actions, and it overcame all his senses and gave him no control.

“I....I-I’m sorry...” you whispered under your breath. Peter scoffed. Then chuckled. And then chuckled again. Now he was laughing in disbelief.

“Sorry? Sorry? That’s what you’re going with?” You knew it was a bad starter, and Peter was in complete disbelief. He deserved way more than just a sorry. “What are you sorry for, Y/N? Hiding the fucking fact that you’re my supposed ‘soulmate’?” Something about the way he said soulmate made you lose the shy demeanor, which was replaced with an anger mirroring his.

“Yes! Of course I’m sorry for that! ‘Oh, let me go up to my boy best friend since middle school and tell him the tattoo is his name when he has a fucking girlfriend!“ Peter groaned and looked away, knowing you were somewhat right. But you did more than hide it.

“Okay, yeah, sure, but you said it was Brad! You lied to me!” The haunting memory came back, and it was your turn to look away.

“I had to come up with something! If I didn’t you would’ve been on my ass about it!” You sighed and started rubbing your temples, trying to calm down. “This is exactly why I didn’t wanna say anything! Because you’re in love with...MJ.” For some reason, that last sentence was hard to get out. It knocked the wind right out of you, causing your chest to ache and your eyes to tear up. Peter noticed and looked down at his shoes, his own memories coming back.

“I....I’m not anymore...” he mumbled meekly.

“What...?” You started wide eyed at him, taken aback by his sentence. He’s always been in love with her. Ever since the beginning. He’s done everything for her. He must be lying. That’s the only explanation. “Listen, Pete...my hearts already been broken from this...you don’t have to lie.”

It was Peter’s turn to look at you in disbelief. Heartbroken? What?

“What do you mean?” You sighed, knowing exactly what to say at that moment. The secret was already out. No point in hiding anymore...

“Peter...I’ve been in love with you since freshman year, I was just really good at hiding it. D-Do you remember the week where I went M.I.A?” He nodded and swallowed hard. “That was because I saw you kiss MJ...hence the whole ‘heartbreak’ thing. I went through it already and I don’t want to have to go through it again, so don’t lie and say you love me.” You couldn’t hide back the pain in your voice. Peter’s head was running one hundred miles per hour, causing him to sit down on his bed, running his hands through his hair.

He took in your words and your confession slowly. Heartbreak. Kissing MJ. You love him. As crazy as it sounds, he didn’t even hang onto the fact that you loved him. And he was your soulmate. It all clicked when you really looked at it. Peter didn’t know whether to love it or hate it.

For some reason, Peter’s silence led you to slowly sit down next to him. He kept looking away from you, keeping his elbow on his knee and his hand in his curls. You took a deep breath, realizing he wasn’t going to say anything. “Like I was saying...you love MJ. And I’m with Brad, so...maybe we can put this behind us and act like it never happened?” You proposed. Peter sniffed and looked at you and disbelief.

“We cannot put something like this behind us. And I don’t love MJ, I said it already.” Still in disbelief, you titled your head and squinted your eyes slightly.

“If you don’t love her then why are you still in a relationship with her?” You were putting him on the spot, and now it was Peter’s turn for his anxiety to grow.

“Because I don’t wanna hurt her, Y/N! MJ’s a cool person, but I don’t like her as a girlfriend anymore. I don’t love her anymore.” You watched intently as he kept his eyes trained on yours. Your face fell in realization. He was telling the truth. “I...I love you.” He whispered. For some reason the air became thicker and the only thing in that small bedroom was him. His eyes never left yours, as you both kept staring at each other.

There was some sort of black hole that was aching between you two, causing to slowly pull closer to him. Peter saw as your widened eyes softened, and he titled his head towards yours. His diverted from your lips, then your eyes, then back at your lips again. You were leaning more closer now. So close, that Peter’s breath was tickling your nose and cheeks. In an agonizing and long few seconds, you felt his soft lips on yours, and your shoulders relax. Peter hummed softly into the kiss, feeling his own weight being lifted off his chest. There goes the butterflies in his tummy, and his flushed, red cheeks. Your self consciousness was turned off, as you decided to keep initiating the kiss, and press your lips more firmly against his.

Slightly taken aback, Peter’s lips stuttered before moving with yours. Soft, gentle pecks turned into slow, passionate open mouthed kisses, and you found yourself needing to pull away at the lack of oxygen. Your forehead never left his, both of your eyes hooded and your pants mixing. You looked up into Peter’s eyes, and then his face. Something about how flushed his lips and cheeks were made that familiar desire crawl back all over your body. You didn’t hesitate to fist his t-shirt in both your hands, and yank him towards you for another kiss.

Peter groaned before kissing you back with just as much force, causing a rhythmic smacking sound erupt in the room. His hand started slowly crawling up your hip, gripping it tightly. You softly whimpered before hiking both of your legs next to his hips, straddling him. The position got you closer to Peter, making that fire in your explore even more. To say you’ve dreamed about this day would be an understatement.

Peter was beginning to grow impatient as he pulled away, trailing his kisses down your jawline. You tilted your head back, giving him more access and freedom to do whatever he wanted. His grip on your hips tightened, surely leaving marks as his lips danced on your neck. You gasped as he kissed your sweet spot, feeling Peter smirk against that same spot. He started sucking and nipping, causing you to softly moan into his ear, gripping his chocolate curls and tugging. He groaned into your neck before smoothing the red mark with his tongue. You closed your eyes and hummed, causing Peter to be more aggressive and start sucking more marks into your neck.

Sure, you’ve had your first kiss before, but they compared nothing to what was happening now. No one kissed you like this before. Especially not Brad.

Wait, Brad!

“P-Pete...” you whispered softly. Peter misunderstood your sound for one of pleasure, and started sucking even harder. As good as it felt, you knew how wrong it was and started to gently push against his chest. But he couldn’t seem to take the hint, being completely entranced by you. You started pulling away from him and hitting his chest more firmly. “Peter!”

Peter heard your alarmed cry and looked up at you panicked. “W-what? What did I do?” A million thoughts ran through his mind, but his main one was that he mad you uncomfortable and fucked everything up. His hair was a mess, now being a messy plop of curls, his chest heaving up and down from how passionate the moment was. You took one last glance at how perfect he looked, no matter how messy he was, before getting off his lap and losing his touch entirely.

“T-This is wrong...so wrong.” Peter swallowed hard and looked at you embarrassed, while you tried to smooth your hair down and collect yourself.

“I’m sorry-“ Peter started.

“D-Don’t, just...never speak of this again.” You looked at him with slightly teary eyes before opening the door and storming down the hallway. You quickly grabbed your phone from the couch where everyone was sleeping and made a beeline for the front door, practically slamming it down and sprinting towards your house.

Peter was still in slight shock, trying to process what happened. He knew it was wrong, but you kept imitating it. So who’s fault is it? Fuck, what if MJ finds out? He would hurt her more than ever. He thought he got this weight off his shoulders already, but you pulling away from him made it come back twice as heavy. He groaned and hid his hands in face, sitting in silence with nothing but his thoughts. Now he definitely had no choice. He had to tell MJ as soon as possible.

———

Peter tried texting you before going to bed, but you never even opened them. His stomach was stuck in knots that couldn’t be untangled, the nights events replaying in his head. He kept his hands buried in his pockets and his head down, taking occasional glances so he could see where he was going in the sea of students. He glanced up and saw MJ leaning against his locker looking left and right. He blew some air out, mentally preparing himself before standing next to her. She sent a friendly and sweet smile before kissing his cheek.

“Hey, loser.” She mumbled. He chuckled a bit at the nickname, knowing this might be the last time he’ll ever hear it.

“H-Hey, um, I-I have to talk to you...” He said meekly. MJ’s smile didn’t change as he kept looking at him.

“Okay, yeah, one second, Y/N!” She shouted from the hall. Peter looked behind her, and saw you chatting with Brad at the lockers not too far from them. He noticed you were wearing a turtleneck, probably to hide the hickeys he unintentionally gave you last night. Once he locked eyes with you he looked down and cleared his throat. “Can you come here for a sec? Bring Brad with you.” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at Brad, only to find him mirroring you. He shrugged slightly before walking with you in front of MJ.

“Hey MJ, what’s up?” You asked cautiously. Peter was silent and glaring daggers at Brad, who had an arm around your shoulder. Much to his please, you gently shrugged it off and kept your attention on MJ.

“Nothin’ just thought I’d need you all 3 for this right here.” MJ pulled out her phone and turned it on it’s side, so the screen was now in a horizontal view. You all moved closer to her and looked at her phone. You felt your heart drop and your face pale.

It was a video of you and Peter from last night, making out—you straddling his waist. The smacking sounds and soft moans didn’t make it better, and your ears started ringing while Peter’s throat started growing a lump at the bottom.

“Y/N...are you fucking kidding me?” Brad asked you, pure anger lacing his voice. You looked up at him, your eyes glossy in tears, your mouth open in shock. “When the fuck was this?”

“Last night. At Peter’s birthday party.” MJ answered for him. Her voice was calm in the most disturbing way, not an ounce of hurt or betrayal in it. You saw as Brad’s jaw clenched, his own betrayal showing through.

“Why the fuck would you do this, Y/N?!” MJ scoffed and turned to Peter.

“Yeah, Peter. Why would you do this, too?” None of you had an answer as Peter looked down at his beat up shoes and you stared at Brad’s hurt expression. The next few seconds are spent in silence before Brad scoffs and turns away from you, starting to walk away.

“Brad, wait!” You chased after him as Peter eyed you, feeling guilt slowly eat him up. He turned to MJ’s emotionless glare and swallowed thickly.

“In case it’s wasn’t obvious, we’re over, and you’re fucking dead to me.” MJ demanded. Her voice was now cold and aggressive, making her even more intimidating than before. She slammed her locker door, causing Peter to flinch. “Have fun with your soulmate, Peter.” MJ spat out, before turning away and walking to her first class, leaving Peter at his locker, the aching in his chest alternating between softening and becoming even more painful.

———————————————————————

Taglist 🏷 (requests are open!)

@marvel4geeks @ladykxxx08 @chloecreatesfictions @joyleenl @witchything @pluckypete @yourneighbourhoodclown @elamvlfoy @trumpettay @pparkeramorr @naioimie @tommyrec @jackiehollanderr @juliebean247 @whatthefuckimbisexual @eternal-writers-block @tomhollandthing @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @perspectiveparker

[monaisme]

One Week Later - Chapter 5

This is the sequel to my one-shot, “The Battle”

Mrs. Stark was seated on the couch, her back to Peter as she spoke affectionately to someone on her phone. She was obviously preoccupied and missed his quietly entering the room, as she continued talking. “I know you want to see me, sweetheart, and I miss you, too—so desperately, but things are a little crazy right now.” A pause. “I know that I promised you a special date just the two of us, but I can’t get away from the city until things are settled and you know this.” Another pause. “Morgan, please—“

In his haze, Peter registered the name, Morgan, and almost wondered who he was? The lethargy that had washed over him weighted him where he stood and he almost felt like he was supposed to react to Mrs. Stark’s words, be curious at least? But he could barely...

FRIDAY interrupted the moment. “Apologies for the interruption, Mrs. Boss, but Boss is on his way up.”

Mrs. Stark called out a quick, “Thank you, FRIDAY,” then came back to her call. She muttered a tender, “I’ve gotta go. I love you, baby,” and hung up the phone. She stood up from the couch and gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she noticed Peter for the first time. “Oh! Peter! How long have you been standing there?” Her cheeks flushed pink as she hid her phone behind her guiltily.

He heard her question, shrugged in reply, and looked down at the floor as he tried to process that he couldn’t process what was happening in that moment. The almost indifference was giving way to discomfort as his brain tried to filter out the garbage bogging him down. “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt... it seemed important?”

She looked uncomfortable, at least to Peter, but he really wasn’t sure of anything in that moment. “Peter, I should explain—“ She gestured to her phone she’d brought forward, but her words were cut off when the elevator doors in the penthouse foyer opened and footsteps echoed on the marble floor.

Mr. Stark entered the living room and grinned big. “Ah, my beautiful family! Exactly the people I wanted to see!” he announced. “I have news from the med bay!”

That tweaked something more in Peter, and his attention was diverted away from Mrs. Stark and the mystery Morgan to his mentor. “I can see May?” he asked quietly.

Mr. Stark nodded emphatically. “You bet you can, kid.” He laughed at something to himself then continued. “She was asleep when I got there so I had a chance to talk to the doc in person for an update. He was just getting around to telling me that we couldn’t come around today when May woke up.” Mr. Stark laughed a little harder. “Needless to say, you are definitely seeing her today.”

Peter felt what must have been the first spark of a real smile in ages. “Really?”

Mr. Stark took a step closer to the boy, then put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Of course, buddy. We’re just gonna give the nurses a chance to help her put on her game face and as soon as she’s ready, they’ll call, but for now...”  

Peter’s shoulders sagged under the weight of Mr. Stark’s hand as he realized, “Now we wait.”

Mr. Stark gave an oddly grounding squeeze and pulled Peter into a firm hug. “Yeah, bud. Now we wait... but she’s as eager as you, so it won’t be too long, I’m sure of it.”

Peter shivered as he pressed further into Mr. Stark’s chest. The haze of the last little while was lifting and he felt a little unsteady so he closed his eyes and breathed in as he clung to the one thing in his life that seemed to have changed the least.

“Hey, sweetheart, not going to hassle you, but did the shower help?” Mr. Stark whispered into his hair. “Are you feeling a little better now?”

He nodded a yes, choosing to ignore whatever it was that was going on with Mrs. Stark in order to address his previous outburst. “I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Stark. I’ll fix the wall. I promise.” He pulled back and shifted to peek around Mr. Stark to Mrs. Stark but refusing to let go. “And I’m sorry if I scared you earlier, Mrs. Stark. It won’t happen again. I swear... I don’t even...” He tried to explain that he wasn’t like that, that he didn’t know where the anger had come from—well, he did, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to show it— He huffed in frustration as he struggled to find the right words.

Mrs. Stark stepped closer, smiled softly, and stopped Peter’s apology before he could completely short circuit. “I know, Peter, and it really is alright. I know that you’d never hurt me, I was just surprised, is all. Thank you for the apology, though. I appreciate it... and don’t worry about the wall, please. It should be fixed by the end of the day.”

Peter felt his cheeks pink with embarrassment and he ducked back into the safety of Mr. Stark’s arms. “Thank you... and I’m still sorry.”

Mr. Stark gave him an extra squeeze in acknowledgement then said nothing more.

It was a few seconds later when Peter could sense movement behind Mr. Stark—then his humming and shaking his head in response to whatever it was that Mrs. Stark was apparently silently communicating to him.

“Pete?” Mrs. Stark spoke up. “We need to talk to you about—”

“Boss, Mrs. Parker is requesting Mr. Parker’s presence in the med bay.” FRIDAY alerted the room. “She has asked me to play back her request directly. She says, ‘Tony, if you make me wait a second longer than I have to to see my kid, I’m gonna tell Pepper about that time you—‘” FRIDAY cut off the recording. “Apologies for the disruption in playback, while you can gauge the seriousness of her request, per your ’Admit Nothing’ protocol, I have determined it is not in your best interest to play the entire recording, sir.”  

Mr. Stark snort laughed, “Thanks, FRI, you’re a gem,” he replied and hugged Peter tight one last time before letting him go. “Well, kid. You heard the AI! Aunt May is waiting!” Mr. Stark led him to the elevator.

Peter didn’t hesitate to follow and made it half way across the room when—

“Peter, can you wait a moment, please!” Mrs. Stark called out.

Peter cringed at the delay, but turned around to face her. “Um, okay?”

“Peter, I... we,” she glanced toward Mr. Stark, “We still need to talk to you about a couple of things—“

Peter was fighting down the impatience, and Mr. Stark must have seen it. He cut her off. “Pep. We can talk about this later on, can’t we? He’s been waiting a week and May will kill me literally dead if he’s not there soon.”

She looked flustered, and Peter almost cared, but she’d been hiding something earlier, now that Peter’s brain was firing back up he was sure of it—and he couldn’t make himself worry about it anymore, especially when he needed to get to May.

She paused, seemed to consider, and then, “Fine. But can we please make the time to talk about things later? Maybe over lunch?”

Peter was making no plans beyond the med bay, but he knew that wouldn’t fly so he agreed. “Yeah, sure. Lunch.” He looked between the two. “Can I go now?”

Mrs. Stark looked at her husband, who stared back goofily at her. She smiled, then he smiled, and like that, Mr. Stark was on the move with him again.

And then Peter wasn’t so sure he wanted the company anymore. “Mr. Stark, would it be okay if I went alone?”

“Are you sure you’re up for that? I mean, I know you’d be okay if you do go alone, but there could be a lot going on in that room that you may have questions about and I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” Mr. Stark was concerned and had no issue with voicing it. “I don’t have to stay for long, just until I know you’re comfortable, and—“

“And I appreciate that. I do. It’s just...” Peter wasn’t sure he could find the words to convey how badly he needed it to be just them. “Please?”

Peter could see Mr. Stark struggling with it. There was no good reason that Peter could think of for Mr. Stark to let him go alone except that he wanted it. And the man was right. He was already anxious and he hadn’t even made it to the elevator yet. Peter was about to give up on the request altogether when Mr. Stark broke into his thoughts.

“Fine, you can go alone, but you have FRI call me if you change your mind, okay? I’ll be there in two minutes. No questions. No judgement.”

“Really?” Peter asked.

“Yes, and we expect to see you back here for lunch when she gets tired of you, alright?” Mr. Stark teased.

“Yessir.”

Mr. Stark glared.

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Alright then, you heathen, begone.” Mr. Stark pointed toward the elevator with a wink. “Don’t make me regret this. And you’d better tell Aunt Hottie that you’re kiss and grounding were both delivered as requested, got it? I told her but I don’t think she believes me.”

“I will.” Peter promised and then waited only a few seconds for the elevator doors to open and finally make his way down to the med bay. He focussed on the next while and how this reunion would go. Aunt May was going to be so happy to see him, he thought. It had been the two of them for so long, and he wished that she hadn’t had to go through all these years without him. But he was back now and things would get better. They had to, right? As the elevator descended, though, his thoughts started to twist. What if it wasn’t better? He knew logically that things were different now-- for him it had been a week and five years and forever and no time at all and all Peter knew was that he didn’t need to say a word to her; only wanted to curl up beside his favourite Aunt and never leave her again.

And she was sick.

The elevator doors opened and Peter froze.

Maybe he’d made a mistake?

“Mr. Parker, we have arrived at the med bay floor.” FRIDAY said.

Peter didn’t move, but he could feel himself getting worked up.

And so could FRIDAY. “Mr. Parker. While still within normal parameters, your breathing, pulse, and heart rate are elevating rapidly. Might I suggest a few deep breaths in order to regulate them?”

Peter still didn’t move... couldn’t move.

“Very well, initiating ‘Meltdown Management Mode’ now.”

The elevator doors closed and for a second Peter thought that the AI would return him to the penthouse and he’d lose his chance to see Aunt May, and his breathing picked up more. He gasped out a “no!”

The elevator stayed where it was, but its lights softened and the canned muzak that had played in the background was replaced by soothing ocean sounds. “Don’t be alarmed, Mr. Parker. Please try to match your breaths to the count, Mr. Parker.” FRIDAY instructed softly. “Breathe in, 2, 3, 4, and out 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.”    

It took a couple of cycles, but eventually Peter picked up the rhythm and within a few minutes, Peter was feeling a little more like himself. “Um, thanks, FRIDAY,” Peter called out to the AI. “That was... unexpected.” And he didn’t know if he was talking about the freak out or the assist.

“Yes,” FRIDAY interrupted. “Due to the random nature of anxiety and panic attacks, Boss has found the protocol to be quite useful over the last five years. He will be glad to know that it has been of use to someone else.”

The thought of Mr. Stark knowing he’d freaked out AGAIN was not okay. That he couldn’t manage to make his way down a few floors without breaking down? “Yeah, um, FRIDAY, do you think you could not tell Mr. Stark about this? I mean, I’m fine, right?”

The elevator fell silent for a brief moment then, “When this protocol was first initiated, Boss required that Mrs. Boss was notified each time it was initiated. There is no specific protocol requirement for you, Mr. Parker. You’re vitals are indicating that you are still experiencing some stress, but they are steady and within normal parameters. I see no reason to report this at this time, but if Boss asks, I will be required to inform him.”

Peter could have slumped with relief... or exhaustion. The constant ups and downs were messing him up big time, and he hated it, but at least he’d remembered his manners. “Thank you, FRIDAY.

“You are welcome, Mr. Parker. Are you ready for me to open the elevator doors now?”

Peter steeled himself and then answered, “Please?”

“Of course,” the AI replied. “Enjoy your visit with Mrs. Parker.”

The doors slid open and Peter stepped out into the waiting room of what was his second home—well, third. First was May’s, then the penthouse with Mr. Stark, and then...

“Peter?”

He turned towards the familiar voice, smiling as he saw one of his favourite nurses walking towards him, “Lydie?” Her hair was cut shorter than he’d remembered it and was dyed a vibrant red. Definitely different, but still definitely her, thank goodness.

“Peter, you haven’t aged a day! Get over here!” She enveloped him in one of those awesome hugs she’d give him when he’d wake up from a nightmare in the middle of the night after he’d finally convinced May or Mr. Stark to finally go and get some sleep in their own beds. “I missed you so much!”

And Peter had exactly zero idea of what to say back. ‘You, too,’ wasn’t true. In his reality, he’d seen her two weeks ago when a he’d been triple-teamed by a trio of wanna-be ninja muggers with zero throwing star skills and just enough luck to land a star smack in the back at his shoulder blade. He mumbled a “Thanks,” and pulled away.  

He’d hoped she’d realize his discomfort, but Lydie was always one to talk and it seemed like this time was no different. She pointed down a hallway Peter didn’t think he’d ever been down before and started walking. “I know you’re here to see May so let me catch you up while I take you to her—so...”

Apparently it only took the length of a long hallway to find out about the life and times of all those who had been left behind. Peter tried to focus, but the moment Lydie had mentioned May again, his stomach had knotted and he did everything he could to use FRIDAY’s breathing techniques without being too obvious.

“...and here we go.” Lydie stopped walking and pointed into the closed door to the left. “Before you go in, though, we’re just gonna gown you up, okay?”

“What?”

She brought Peter over to a station stocked with gloves, gowns, caps, and masks. “Yeah, we want to be sure that we don’t bring any uninvited germs into the room with us while she’s already fighting this infection—or carry any out, for that matter.”

Peter almost recoiled. “I could make her more sick?” He hadn’t even thought about that and suddenly worried that his shower hadn’t been enough.

“Don’t be silly, Peter.” She chided him. “We’re only doing this as a precaution and I know how anxious May is to see you, so let’s go. Chop, chop.”

Peter got to it right away and tried not to feel ridiculous in his new oversized get up even as Lydie looked almost identical.

Lydie’s eyes smiled at him encouragingly. “Alright, are you ready?”

He didn’t answer, but she wasn’t waiting for him to as she pushed the door open and grabbed his arm to drag him inside with her.

“May, I hope you’re decent. You’ve got a gentleman caller here!” Lydie sang out softly as she peeked through the curtains surrounding her bed.

Peter heard the rustling of sheets and a groggy, “Wha—Lydie?”

Lydie glanced back at him, gestured for him to wait and ducked behind the curtain. “May?” Lydie whispered, quiet enough that it was only because of Peter’s enhanced hearing that he could make out the words. “May, can you wake up a little more? You dozed off on me.”

“Oh?” The sheets rustled some more. “Oh, no,” she gasped. “I didn’t mean to— is he gone? Did I miss him?“

A monitor beeped in warning.

“Shh, shh, shh. May, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. It’s fine. He’s waiting for the all clear before he comes in. I know he’s fallen asleep on you plenty of times so don’t sweat it.” Lydie really was the best.

Another beep, this one a press of something on a machine.

And then the sound of stifling tears.

“May, honey, oh. No-no-no, don’t do that, May. He’s back now.” Lydie comforted her, not bothering to lower her voice. “Peter’s just on the other side of the curtain and he thinks he’s hiding it, but he’s nervous, too.” Peter heard Lydie pull a tissue from a box and pass it to May.

May sniffed, then blew her nose and squeaked out, “Peter’s really here?”

“You know I wouldn’t lie to you, May, and he’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long.”

“Yeah.” May took a deep breath and then another. Peter could hear her and Lydie doing a last minute straighten up. “Okay.” May whispered. “How do I look?”

“Like a million bucks.” Lydie reassured her. “Now, can I open these curtains before he loses his mind?”

May must have nodded because the curtain was slowly dragged back to reveal the most important person in Peter’s universe, propped up in the bed and fussing with the long braid trailing down the front of her hospital gown.

And Peter stood there frozen, mere feet away from her bed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish behind the mask. “May?” The woman in front of him looked like a weak imitation of the woman he’d left only a week ago to head to school and that stupid MOMA field trip. The yellowed, swollen face and hands screamed sickness, punctuated by the heavy scent of medicated creams, antiseptic, and blood. They’d at least made an effort to disguise the various machines surrounding her, but the curtains and draped blankets couldn’t camouflage the nasal cannula—and the delicately flowered robe she wore over the medbay gown did little to hide the tubing still connected to her IV or the dialysis machine Peter guessed she’d been hooked up to since that call in Wakanda that morning. His stomach turned at the sight of it all so he concentrated again on her face. There, he could see the flush of fever in her cheeks and a glassiness in her eyes. She looked exhausted.

He didn’t know what to do.  

She looked just as stunned as Peter, though for completely different reasons. “Peter?” May stared at the boy and then scowled at Lydie. “I swear, Lydie, on the soul of my dead mother. If you don’t get all that shit off my kid so I can see him for real, I will make sure that you never find that stupid blush nail polish you swear by again—and I know people so I can make it happen.”

Lydie threw her hands up in apology. “May, you know that I can’t. Dr. Bonwick has orders—“

“I don’t care, Lydie.” she huffed. “I’ve waited too long to see that face.” May turned her attention back to Peter. “You heard me,” she pointed to his medical gear with a look of distaste. “All of that garbage off, now.”

He wanted to listen to her, honest, but she was sick and the reality of it had smacked him in the face. There was no way he’d risk—

“Peter.” Peter recognized the tone anywhere. It was the same tone that made sure his homework got done before patrol, that his bedroom was cleaned before heading to Ned’s, and that got wet towels off the bathroom floor and an apple in his hand before he ran out the door to school. Yeah. Peter knew better than to dawdle. The fabric gown and its accessories were in a laundry bin in the corner of the room in half a minute and he stood ready for inspection.  

May beamed with joy as she gazed upon him. “There’s my Peter,” she exclaimed. “Now get your ass over here and give me a hug before I lose my mind, you goofball.”

Peter rushed up to the bed, hesitating when he reached the railing of the bed. “Uh... what should I—“

Lydie, who’d tucked herself inconspicuously away to work in the corner of the room, came forward to help. “C’mon, Peter, you know as well as anyone how these beds work.” She teased as she did her nurse magic, lowering the railing.

“I know how the bed works,” he insisted as he tried to ignore the fear that one wrong move would hurt her. “I’m trying to be careful, is all.”

May was having none of that. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried, sweetheart.” She leaned forward and opened her arms, now seriously. “Please?”

Peter was in her arms in a blink, fighting back tears as May finally gave in to hers. Neither of them said a word as they revelled in their reunion. Only a week and five years- five years- She’d waited for him for so long.

Peter whispered, “I didn’t mean to go, May, I swear,” as he burrowed into her.

She buried her face in his hair and tried to breathe in the scent of him, like she'd done his whole life. "I know, baby. I know." May reassured him. She shifted slightly, started pushing the pillows supporting her aside.

Peter panicked. "Oh! I'm hurting you! I'm so sorry!"  He pulled back and away, "I'm gonna—"

May grabbed his hand. "No, Peter. You're not hurting me at all. I just need to move- these- damn- pillows." She ground out the words while she tried to readjust.

"I can do it!" Peter declared, jostling the pillows about. “I’ll just—“ He shifted the pillows Aunt May, just a little, but the ones behind her seemed determined to keep her from completely relaxing, if he was reading her body language right. “Maybe if I—“ He slipped off the bed and started looking for the controls to set the bed at a better angle.

Lydie stepped in again, “Peter, here. Let me help—“

“No!” He replied loudly, surprising everyone in the room. He pressed on, moving May’s blankets in his hunt. “I’ve got this. I’m just gonna adjust the bed and make sure that May’s comfortable.”

“I know, Peter, but if I help—“

“Look, Lydie, I’ve got this, okay?” Not finding the controls, he moved around to the other side of the bed. “It’s the least I can do after all this time, right?” He tried to laugh at the little dig but sounded more like he was choking. They had to think he was losing his mind.

“Peter.” May called to him. “Come on. You’re fuss-farting around for a bed controller.” She patted the empty space beside her. “Let’s do a snuggle party like when you were little instead.” She held out her arms in welcome again and that was all Peter needed.

He clamoured up onto the bed again and tried to squeeze in beside her as she shifted to give him room, just like she’d asked.

Lydie watched the exchange sadly and smiled, “I’m going to give you two some time,” and exited the room. Peter was sure she hadn’t gone far.

“I remember you being smaller, buster.” She teased.

Peter rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Are moms obligated to say cheesy stuff like that? Like, is it in the secret mom rulebook?”

“Now, Peter,” she grinned slyly as she looked down at him. “You know if I told you, I’d have to kill you—now, c’mon.” She eased herself a little further to one side of the bed and sighed in brief relief as she settled. “Get closer.”

He did try. Oh, how he wanted to be held in her arms and have her tell him everything was going to be okay, but gentle teasing couldn’t hide the limitations of the IV tube he’d interrupt if he laid this way—or the access site on her other side if he shifted that way.

May giggled through a new round of tears as they struggled to find a hold that wouldn’t cause her harm. “Wow, if we ever thought we could ignore the elephant in the room, huh?”  

Peter stopped his wiggling. “May, don’t... I... I... ” He couldn’t speak so he sat himself up, twisting and turning away from her. He buried his face in his hands and started to tremble.

He was going to lose her.

He could feel her pulling herself up, trying to get closer to him. Peter jumped off the bed. “No! You need to lie down, May. Please.” He pressed her gently back into her pillow pile. “I’m gonna grab a chair, okay?”

“Peter, stop it. Get back up here,” she ordered, watching him work his way up to another freak out.

But he couldn’t... he just couldn’t.

Instead, Peter grabbed the straight backed chair rested against the wall and, in a flash, seated himself at her bedside. “Nah, I need you comfortable, May...” He grinned big and insincere, “And you know I’m a bed hog. Really! This is probably way better for you.” He focussed on his hands as they twisted at her blankets. “Just until you feel a little better, please?”

She didn’t bother to hide as her frustration shifted to concern. “Peter, please. I know this is strange,” She reached out to grab his hands, stopping him. “But we’re gonna get through this. Okay?”

Peter slid his hands out from under hers, then gently laid his on hers, but could say nothing. A part of him had thought that maybe... just maybe Mr. Stark had been overstating things so that Peter would find relief at things not being so bad. But Mr. Stark would never have done something like that. Peter had just been wrong. His vacillating between hope and impending doom stopped exactly then.

He knew all about Parker Luck, after all.

He gave May’s hands a squeeze, kissed them, then pulled away. He could feel the greasiness of lotion against his lips, and forced himself to ignore it. “You should lie down, May. I don’t want you to get more tired because of me.”

“Peter. I’ll worry about me, alright?” May lightly scolded. “But I’m also gonna worry about you, got it.” She cupped his cheek and tried to catch his eye. “We’ll need to talk about this eventually, sweetheart.”

He closed his eyes and prayed for strength, “I know...” he choked out. “But can it not be now?”

May didn’t say anything for a moment before agreeing. “Alright... but soon? Hiding your head in the sand does nothing but leave your butt exposed for that big kick in the pants you’re trying to avoid, and you know it.”

Peter nodded. He didn’t have a choice.

The last two Parkers clasped hands again and sat silent for a moment; May savoured his presence while Peter mourned hers.

Five damned years. Peter’s thoughts turned to Titan and failed attempts and how if he’d only gotten the gauntlet.

A series of beeps sounded from one of the hidden machine, startling the two from their thoughts.

“Holy crap!” Peter jumped as he threw his hand to his chest, knocking over his chair in the process. “What’s wrong?” He scanned his aunt, not seeing why the alarm was suddenly going off. “Did I do something?”

“Calm down, Peter. That means my dialysis is done for today.” She reached for his hand. “It alerts whoever’s on shift that they can unhook me.”

Lydie entered the room again without a word and pulled a blanket off the machine closest to the bed.

Peter looked away.

“I’ll be quick, folks, then a quick check up and I’ll be out of your hair.” Lydie promised as she pressed a button to silence the alarm.

May didn’t pretend to be anything other than irritated. “Lydie, can we just do it later? Peter’s here and I don’t want to—“

Lydie raised her hand her hand to stop her. “Nuh-uh. I’ve already broken one rule for you today. If you think I’m not following another protocol, you’ve got another thing coming to you.” She glanced over to the young superhero. “Sorry, Peter.”

He just shrugged and moved his chair back towards the wall. “No worries. I’ll just stay out of the way.” Yeah, even he knew better to fight with the nurses in Avengers Tower.

Lydie chuckled, “I wish you were that cooperative when you were a patient here, Peter.”

May outright cracked up at that. “You tell him, Lydie.”

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up. I am a stellar patient.” Peter pouted, “You’re both so mean to me.”

The laughter died down as Lydie disconnected things and went about doing what should have been a cursory check. The cuff of the blood pressure monitor has inflated, May had flinched at its tightness, and Peter had sympathized. Lydie had pulled the stethoscope from around her neck, preparing for the next check when the alarm went off.

“May?” Lydie questioned suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

May looked from Lydie to Peter, then back to Lydie. “Nothing. You know that the machine is too sensitive.  Let the cuff do its torture again,” she pressed. “It’s probably because I was laughing is all.”

Lydie wasn’t buying it, “Peter, would you be a dear and step into the hallway, please.”

Yeah, Peter knew that tone, too. It was the old ‘the medical professionals need to discuss things that aren’t any of your business’ tone. He was out of the chair and into the hallway in a shot.

It wasn’t like he’d be missing anything, anyways.

“Okay, May, ‘fess up. What’s going on?” Lydie whispered.

Had they really forgotten that it didn’t work?

Peter could hear a button being pressed, maybe an aural thermometer, then May’s reply. “My pain medication,” she whispered back. “I should have thought to say something before he got here, but then I fell asleep and I couldn’t let Peter know—“

“How bad?”

May exhaled slowly, “Bad enough that it set off that stupid machine.”

A quiet beep sounded.

“Aw, shit. May!” Lydie hissed. “You’re fever’s up, too! You know better than to not say something about that!”

Peter could hear Lydie’s movements around the room, a drawer opening, vials being shuffled about—��I’m going to get your pain meds and some fever reducers on board, then I’ll call Dr. Bonwick.”

“No.” May blurted out, desperate. “You know it’ll put me to sleep. Just wait until Peter’s visit is over, an hour? Please? Can I have just an hour with him?”  

“No negotiations, May.” They were done with trying to be secretive. “We’re already pushing our luck because of the delay with the dialysis... and Peter’s a smart kid. You know he’ll understand.”

Peter could hear the quiver in her voice again. “I don’t want him to understand! I want him here!” May moaned, giving in to her pain and exhaustion. “I want five years with him, and I want stepping on legos, and sleepovers with his friends, and... and I wanted him to be a man before he had to deal with—oh.” May couldn’t speak, and so she wept.

And Peter’s heart broke again—how many more times would he feel it splinter before it finally stopped.

Lydie tried to comfort May, even as she went about her job with a haste that made Peter realize his coming had been a mistake. She’d been hurting. She suffered because of him—for five years, she had suffered because of him.

It took a few minutes, but May’s cried eventually softened, then levelled to a nice even breathing. She’d fallen asleep. Lydie popped out of the room, took one look at him, and knew. “You heard?”

Peter nodded.

She stepped into the hallway completely, approaching him like a wild animal. “I gave her something to calm her, but with the fever and all...”

“She’s asleep, I know.”

“Good.” She looked over her shoulder into the room, and then addressed Peter. “She’ll sleep for a while now, which is good.” Lydie assured him. “I’m going to call Dr. Bonwick and get her started on her new meds. If everything goes as well as we hope, she’ll be ready for visitors tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lydie stared at him for a second and forever. “May mentioned that Mr. Stark had filled you in on some things. Do you have any questions for me? May’s given me permission to give you the basics.”

Peter stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders as he fought the urge to ask one of the so many questions he didn’t want answers to. “No. I’m good.”  

The look on her face told Peter that she didn’t believe him.

“Are you alright?” She asked, sympathy pouring off of her. “That visit had to be hard for you, too.”

Peter shook his head in the negative, “I’ll be fine.” Peter assured her. He always was, after all. “You just worry about Aunt May... please.” He tried to be casual about it, but the tears welling up were a dead giveaway.

Lydie stepped closer. “Peter, you’re allowed to be upset, too. I’m sure that Mr. Stark can find someone that can—“

An alarm blared in May’s room, loud and urgent. Lydie stopped talking and rushed back into the room, turning the alarm off and double checking what she thought was the culprit. “A-ha!” She called out as she reattached the oximeter to May’s finger. She watched the numbers jump back up from 0% to a not amazing but could be worse percentage. “There you go, May.” She squeezed the sleeping woman’s hand in support then went back into the hallway. “I’m so sorry about that, Peter, she shifted and knocked... off... her... Peter?” She looked down the empty corridor then rushed down it towards the elevator. She noted the floor numbers descending on the display. “Oh, shit.”

* * * * * *

“Mr. Parker, would you like me to initiate ‘Meltdown Management Mode’ again?” FRIDAY inquired.

May was dying, if she wasn’t already dead. He’d pushed her too much. She was too weak and in pain and then the alarm had gone off and he knew—

Peter said nothing, just stared at the numbers on the panel as the elevator descended. He couldn’t be there anymore. He couldn’t be there when she wasn’t—

May was dead, and Peter was alone.

“Mr. Parker, you are again displaying signs of distress, and failure to respond will require me to contact Boss and update him on your condition.”

Peter blinked as he registered the unintended threat. “I’m fine, thank you. I just need some air,” he rasped out.

“Yes, fresh air and exercise are both optimal solutions for mental distress. Boss has programmed me to provide him positive reinforcement when he takes the initiative on his own to remedy his anxiety. Would you like me to tell you ‘good job,’ Mr. Parker?”

“No, thanks.”

Peter felt a slight shift in speed, then the elevator came to a halt.

“It is currently an overcast 58°F, Mr. Parker. Enjoy the fresh air.” The elevator doors opened, revealing the Avengers Tower lobby bustling with activity. “Mr. Parker, should Boss inquire, what time will you be returning home?”

Home? May was dead and Peter was alone.

Peter chuckled darkly. “I don’t have a home anymore, FRIDAY,” he replied, and pushed his way through the masses of people, out the front doors of the tower, and into the chaos of a world struggling with unexpected rebirth.  

[stuckonstarker]

Runaway Groom

It’s the night before Peter and MJ’s wedding when Peter decides he can’t go through with it. He’s in love with someone else.

| Brief/Mentioned Spideychelle | 

When Peter proposed to MJ he had been so sure he loved her. He had been certain she was the one for him, but after one year and a lot of self-reflection, he’s doubting himself. 

It’s the night before the wedding, Peter should be ecstatic, but he isn’t. He’s almost dreading the thought of marriage now. There’s a weight in Peter’s chest pulling him down, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He wants to love MJ, but he can’t. Peter loves Tony. He’s always loved the man, but it’s grown out of control, it’s become untamed. Peter - for the life of him - can’t get Tony off of his mind. It’s driving him mad.

MJ is out with her friends. Peter is home alone, he can’t tell whether that’s a blessing or a curse. 

The silence haunts him, there’s not a moment where Peter’s brain isn’t reminding him of the shameful fact that he doesn’t love MJ. It’s an acidic, venomous self-loathing that Peter wants to will away. It settles deep in the pit of his stomach, hissing at him to do something other than throw a pity party.

Peter stares at his reflection. The person he’s looking at doesn’t feel like him anymore. It’s like he’s staring into the eyes of a stranger. He sighs, turning away from the mirror.

Peter looks out of the window into the night, the street is wet from the rain, water reflects light from the streetlamp. There’s a bittersweet longing in the air. It’s crisp and clear, it gives him a hazy sense of longing for a life he could never have. It reminds him of what he does have, how lucky he is, and how ungrateful he’s being. It reminds him that he’ll never be content with the life he’s been given. That he’ll always be searching for more until he gets what longs for.

Peter inhales deeply, trying to calm his stormy emotions.

He knows, deep down in his soul, that he’ll never be fully happy with MJ, that she’ll never complete him. Peter hates himself for it. Hates himself for letting her down. He’s let a lot of people down lately.

There’s a dull ache in Peter’s chest, a longing for something he knows he can’t have. A longing so visceral and present it scares him in its intensity. He knows it isn’t right, that it isn’t fair to MJ. She deserves better, she deserves the world - he had told her that once upon a time, when his feelings weren’t so complex, and when her smile didn’t feel like a maze to navigate.

Peter’s mind wanders. He imagines a world where he and Tony are together, living in a secluded cabin surrounded by lush forest. A world where Peter’s life isn’t underlined with a sense of somberness, restlessness, constantly running away from, and yet chasing, the one thing he’s ever wanted.

He’s picking up the phone before his mind can protest. He’s dialing the number on autopilot.

“Pete?” Tony’s warm voice carries through the phone.

Peter says, “Hey, can you come over? I’m kinda freaking out about some things.”

“On my way,” Tony says, “I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks,” Peter says, suppressing a sniffle.

Peter feels dull nausea bubbling up in his stomach. His heart patters in his chest loudly, the noise echoing in his eardrums. There’s a sharp sting of hatred, he shouldn’t be looking for support when he’s going to abandon his fiance. And he definitely shouldn’t be getting support from the man who his heart longs for.

It feels like an instant and an eternity before Tony’s sharp, two-pronged knock hits the dark oak door.

Peter opens the door, tears forming in his eyes immediately. He can’t help the way Tony’s gaze breaks him, like every emotion Peter’s ever had is suddenly on display for the older man. Peter’s always trusted Tony with his life, and the man never failed him. It made it easy for Peter to fall into Tony’s arms, to sink into the man’s tender embrace.

Tony scoops Peter into a hug, soft voice cooing: “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Tell me what’s wrong. I’ll help you, I promise.”

I’ll help you, I promise.

Peter’s heart stutters in his chest, his sobs grow more pained. He looks up at Tony, wide eyes pooling with despair. Tony smiles encouragingly, nodding for Peter to talk.

“I’m terrible,” Peter whispers in the older man’s hold.

Tony shakes his head, “No you’re not, Peter, you’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

“No,” Peter sobs, voice broken, “you don’t understand, Tony, I’m terrible. I’m doing something awful.”

Tony pulls back partially, “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t love MJ anymore,” Peter says. His voice is resigned and solemn. Peter’s eyes are a pool of shame and guilt and regret. The tears slow to a stop, but his eyes are still wet. 

Tony’s face flicks through several emotions, clearly conflicted about this sudden declaration. His eyes move around like he does when he’s in the lab pondering a solution to a problem. He probably is, Tony tries to solve all of Peter’s problems.

The thought feels Peter with an icy sense of love and dread. They mix together into a lethal cocktail that makes Peter’s heart jackhammer in his chest. A sudden wave of lightheadedness nearly knocks Peter to his feet.

Tony catches him, sitting him down on a chair.

“Maybe,” Tony says, “you’re just getting cold feet. This is normal, I think… I’ve never been married so I don’t exactly have a lot of experience, but I do know that you look at her like she’s your world. And you do care about her. This feeling you have could be a fluke.”

Peter shakes his head, “No, Tony, it’s been like this for a while. I know the initial glow of a relationship wears off, but this… This is different. Being around her is like a job to me. Oh my God, I am horrible. She’s so wonderful, I shouldn’t be doing this to her.”

Tony’s mouth opens, but before he can say anything, Peter continues.

“I used to think people who rushed into marriage were stupid, now I’m one of those people. I think she knows something is wrong too, she’s always asking me if I’m okay and I have to lie directly to her. It’s killing me, Tony. I know the responsible thing to do is to tell her, but she’ll hate me, despise me.”

“I think you should tell her,” Tony says, “it’s the right thing to do.”

Peter nods, “There’s something else, though.”

There’s a thick, overwhelming tension in the air as Tony nods for Peter to continue.

“I’m in love with someone else,” Peter whispers, looking down at his lap. A cold wave of shame drowns Peter, he’s unable to look Tony in the eyes. Peter can only cling to hope that his feelings are more hidden than he believes. He looks up at Tony.

Tony sighs, his face is unreadable, which is killing Peter. Tony’s gaze meets Peter’s, and - despite it all - Peter feels at home. The older man closes his eyes and rubs his forehead.

Peter feels like falling apart on the spot like a spool of thread unraveling quicker and quicker until there is nothing left.

“There’s never a dull moment with you,” Tony says, voice vaguely fond.

Peter smiles, hoping Tony didn’t immediately suss him out.

“If you don’t love her and love someone else you definitely need to come clean,” Tony says, “bad things are bound to happen. Hearts are going to be broken,  there are going to be relationships that may never be fully fixed, but… if it’s what makes you happy, then go for it.”

Peter smiles despite the weight in his heart and the storm in his stomach.

Tony asks, “Who do you love?”

Peter freezes, feeling like a butterfly caught in a net. Panic shoots through Peter’s body, and in a split second, Tony seems to realize what Peter’s always known. There’s a heavy silence hanging in the air, both parties afraid of what it means.

Tony asks, voice even, “Who do you love?”

Despite himself, Peter admits, “I love you.”

Their eyes are locked, their hearts drumming to the same beat. Peter is unsure of what comes next, the thought of rejection too agonizing to think about even for a moment. There’s a stillness in the room like even the wind was afraid of making noise.

“I love you too,” Tony says.

“You do?” Peter asks, hope sparks in his chest like the beginning of a fire.

Tony nods, “I’ve always loved you, but it… it was never the right time, then before I knew it, you’re off getting married.”

“Not anymore,” Peter says, “I’m not getting married now.”

“Peter,” Tony says, “you are about to leave your fiance, that’s a big deal. You can’t just jump from that to me.”

“I want to,” Peter says, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.”

Tony smiles, his dark brown eyes overflowing with joy. Every wrinkle in the man’s face is a work of art, Peter is sure. Peter is drawn to the man like a magnet, slowly approaching him, placing a hand on his chest. Tony does nothing to stop what comes next.

Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck, pulling the elder man down into a kiss. It’s soft and gentle. Explorative on both ends; each of them trying to meet each other in the middle. There’s a lightness in the air, like the feeling of butterflies swirling and dancing in the summer air. Peter feels free. It’s the feeling you get when you drop a weight, or when a storm reaches its peaceful end.

They pull away from each other slowly. If they had it their way, they would be glued together till the end of time.

“This is wrong,” Peter whispers. They’re so close together that Tony can feel Peter’s soft breath against his skin. It sends electric pleasure through him.

Tony nods, “Yeah…”

Peter looks into Tony’s gaze, the man’s eyes are full of want and passion. There’s a wildfire in Peter’s heart, untamed and out of control, but so beautiful. And Peter wants. He wants more than he’s ever wanted in his life. So, Peter takes, pulling Tony back into another kiss. 

Tony reciprocates eagerly like he’s a dehydrated man who had just found an oasis. The wildfire of want burns brightly in Peter, making him lose all rational thought. If there was one time Peter could say ‘fuck you’ to morals it was now. Peter pulls away, looking into Tony’s hungry gaze.

“Let’s go,” Peter says, breathless and needy.

Tony asks, “Go where?”

“Anywhere with you,” Peter says, “anywhere as long as I’m with you.”

Tony nods, taking Peter’s hand in his, “I’ve always wanted to live in a quiet cabin surrounded by the forest.”

[tremendousblizzardangel]

Stay by me..(Peter Parker x Reader)

“Peter, I’ll be fine! Don’t worry!” You called as you ran out of his aunt May’s house, you two were planning a small get together of your friends on Graduation night. It was just going to be a small party as a sendoff seeing as Ned was heading off to college, along with MJ(which you didn’t mind one bit, but you’d never tell Peter that.)  

“Wait (n/n)! Why don’t you stay until tomorrow? You have before, and there is no school tomorrow..” Peter called after you as he ran down the stairs and out the front door, His eyes widening in horror as you spun around stepping onto the street to answer him. The pure fear and horror in his chocolate brown eyes is the last thing you remember before waking up in this black void.  

----------------------------------------------

Peter paced as his aunt May tried to comfort him but to no avail. He wasn’t able to calm down, the accident still fresh in his mind. His webs didn’t make it to you in time. Why didn’t you listen?? It was 10pm in the middle of Manhattan how on earth did you think it was okay to leave.  

“Excuse me, are you Mr.Parker?” A nurse asked and Peter finally stopped in his pacing as his head shot up to look at her.  

“H-how is she?! Is she okay I-” As Peter started to bombard the poor nurse with questions, she held her hand up and with a small comforting smile she replied, “Ms.(last name)’s surgery was a success, she is currently in her room, and her parents requested for you to come in before they leave.”  

Peter let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding and nodded. “Take me to her.”  

It had been a couple of hours since then, Peter somehow convinced your parents to head home for the night, with the promise that he would immediately call if you woke up, or anything else were to happen. He was currently holding your hand, for fear if he were to let go it would be as if you were to die the moment he would.  

“(n/n)….I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. If I had just tried harder to get you to stay, or if I was a bit quicker- “

You didn’t know how long you’ve been in the black void for,, It could have been days, or even months. But no matter how long you’ve been there for, you knew someone was there with you due to the soft pressure and heat on your hand. You couldn’t figure out who it was though, until you heard the nickname that only one person calls you. It was clear as day.  

“Pete? Peter where are yo-” You stopped mid-sentence when you heard his rambling something about you, and an accident, him also rambling on and on about how it was his fault.  

The accident came flooding back to you in waves as the pain hit. After the initial shock you fought hard to leave the black void, he didn’t need to be blaming himself when it was your own stupidity that got you here. And every time you went to move it was like your body hadn’t moved in 150 years, and it felt like lead.  

Pete’s hand on yours felt really nice and using what little strength you had in you, you squeezed his hand making him pause in his rambling. You cracked your eyes open and your tired (e/c) eyes met his bloodshot and tear-filled chocolate ones and a small relived sob left his lips.  

“(y-y/n) I-I'm so sorry. I should have-” You squeezed Peter’s hand again effectively shushing him so you could talk.  

“P-pete, it's not your fault. I was my own, I should have paid more attention. Stop blaming yourself for everything..... okay?” As you were saying this you brought a weak hand up to his face which he immediately leaned into and covered with his own.

After what seemed was him hesitating for a moment, he quickly leaned down and captured your lips with his. Shock and confusion immediately wracked your body as last time you knew he loved MJ. But before you could think on his too hard instincts took over and you closed your eyes and kissed him back, seeing fireworks behind your eyelids. After a few moments the two of you pulled away and a shy smile was on Peters face, but it quickly turned serious again as he gently grasped your hands.  

“(y/n)...I was so so scared I lost you when that happened. I always told you that I loved MJ whenever you asked me about relationships due to the fact, I was just too scared to tell you, and when you agreed to go to the prom with me even if it was just as friends, I was so happy. And seeing you like that and the fact that I wasn’t able to help you broke me. I can’t bear the thought of losing you again, so please just....Stay by me..” by the end of his confession/rant he was red faced and looking anywhere but you.  

You shakily brought your hands to both sides of his face and gave him a chaste kiss. After pulling away, you give him a small smile and murmur a “Always.”

[rynhaswritersblock]

take a bullet | p.p.

summary: you and peter go on your first mission without the team, flirting can be a powerful tool, and cliches like "taking a bullet" for someone don't seem so unrealistic anymore

warnings: cussing (as always wtf), a bit of angst???? wOah

+ + +

in and out.

oh, how you desperately wished this were only a mission to get burgers at in n' out and not one to hack into an insane, power hungry organization's secret base.

can't always have what you want, can you?

the quinjet lands just a few miles from the base. the rest of the team opted to stay back, figuring that it was time for you and peter to have your first standalone mission. nonetheless, tony was alert, prepared to suit and fly over at any given time. you and peter give the group an awkward wave before walking out, the sound of the jet's doors locking back up making you flinch.

"you good?" peter asks.

"yeah," you say, giving him a hopeless smile before shaking your hands out and pointing your palms at the ground, bursting into the air. the green energy hovers around your wrist as you dart through the air and see the HYDRA base in the distance. peter is beneath you, swiftly swinging through the telephone poles.

as you get within a mile of the base, you begin lowering yourself, softly landing on the concrete and looking over just as peter touches down behind you in his signature landing pose. you quickly glance around before grabbing peter's wrist and focusing your powers.

the two of you morph into agents, dressed in the uniform HYDRA attire-- all black and military style. you look down at yourselves, then each other, nodding your heads. you were now donned in tight black shirts and black combat pants with matching boots. a belt holds the pants up on your waist, gun resting on your hip.

you begin walking, the two of you entering easily with your fake badges. all you had to do was get into the center of the building where the mainframe and computers were, and, essentially, trash it all. luckily, your powers gave you enhanced intelligence, so hacking into HYDRA's system should be a piece of cake.

the two of you approach the doors beneath the sign labeled "MAINFRAME: RESTRICTED ACCESS." you take a deep breath before putting on a confident yet blank face, walking up to one of the guards and showing your badge. peter does the same to the other guard.

the guard gives you a look. "you're not at a high enough level."

you humph, looking for a second before going, "not high enough, huh? well uh, okay, let me just-"

you begin to fake rummage around the pockets of your legs before swiftly snapping your head back up and kneeing the guy in the nuts, grabbing him by the arms as he doubles over and, with a wave of your hand, making him fall unconscious. your green energy lingers in the air around him.

a sigh falls from your mouth as you stand back up, looking over at peter and the other guard, who stand there, staring at you, dumbfounded looks on their faces. you furrow your brows at peter before he lets out a small "oh!" and turns, punching the guy and webbing him to the wall.

"pay attention," you mutter as the two of you walk down the hallway.

"sorry," he whispers, glancing over at you.

the two of you make eye contact and you can't help but let out a tiny laugh out of pure nothingness, shaking your head as you look down at your boots.

"what?"

"nothing, parker."

the two of you round a corner and reach a set of double doors, the word "MAINFRAME" above it and a guard staring straight ahead. you quickly snap back behind the wall before he sees you.

"stay here," you whisper to peter with a mischievous smile.

"what?"

"it's our first mission alone; why not have a little fun?"

you wink at peter and round the corner, making the sway of your hips just a bit more prominent as you walk towards the guard. peter sticks his head out slightly to watch before tony's voice rings in his ear, causing him to whirl back around and hold his ear.

"parker! what are you letting my daughter do?" tony asks, anger in his voice.

"shit, i forgot we had comms," peter mutters. "uh, i don't know."

"oh, for fuck's sake.. just make sure she doesn't get hurt, otherwise you'll be in pain with her as well. hear me?"

peter nods, feels stupid for nodding in the middle of an empty hallway, and sticks his head back out.

"good afternoon," you say, smiling at the man.

peter is in shock. were you seriously about to start flirting with a middle aged man? and for no good reason?

"evening, sweetheart. identification?"

the word sweetheart makes you internally cringe and peter's ears burn.

"oh, i, uh," you say innocently, beginning to fiddle with your fingers. "forgot it today. do you think you could still let me in, please?"

the guard smirks slightly. "how about i do, but only if you give me a kiss."

"a kiss?" you fake laugh, glancing behind you quickly to see peter's eyes poking around the corner. you just about lose it. "well, fine, officer. i guess that'll have to do."

and that's when peter loses it. he steps out from behind the wall, fired up and ready to nut-punch the guy for being a total misogynistic dickhead. and for flirting with a teenage girl. however, the boy stops when he sees you step forward.

you bite back a shudder when see the man's face up close, bringing a hand forward to make it seem as though you were to plant a small kiss. instead, you get him in a choke-hold, grabbing his ear and twisting it.

"i hope you die, you sick fuck," you whisper before using your powers to knock him out, giving him a hard kick as he thumps onto the ground.

"what the hell was that, y/n?!" tony booms into your ear. you stumble.

"shit, i forgot we had comms," you mutter. peter smiles, thinking that's exactly what i said! "uh, i just wanted to have a little fun on our first private mission?"

"when the two of you get back, i swear-"

"tony!" nat jumps in. "y/n, peter-- go do your job. i'll calm tony down, and we'll be here in case you need backup."

you mutter a thanks before turning around to look at peter. "well?"

he sighs, expression hard before walking up to you and past you, breezing through the doors.

"someone's jealous."

the boy spins around.

"i am not-!" he blurts, stopping as you give him a look. "i am not jealous."

"okay, pretty boy," you nod, walking next to him and sitting down at one of the computers.

the sound of the team going wild blasts through your comms. "she got you there!" sam says, letting out a whoop.

a small smile creeps onto your face as you begin typing, easily getting into their system and working through the codes to get everything in the base to shut down. and explode, as you hope. you hear peter elicit a sigh and glance over to see standing him next to you, back facing you and arms crossed over his chest. you shake your head before continuing typing, just a few codes away from being done.

"shit."

you turn around to see a guard walk in, gun drawn. shit was right.

you move to stand and grab your gun before peter reaches back and stops you. "i got it."

"show identification," the guard orders. you finish putting in the codes but don't get the chance to finalize them before you hear the gun click.

without thinking, you shoot up and shove peter to the side, feeling a sharp impact in your gut. it's a searing pain that blinds you and you stumble over, grabbing your abdomen and miraculously managing to fall into the chair.

"shit, y/n," peter gasps, running over to you and trying to hold you up. "guys? we need help here!"

you let out a weak laugh when you hear the sound of movement through the comms and clint saying, "yeah, we got that. from, you know, the gunshot."

your eyes start to get heavy and you teeter on the edge of consciousness, trying to reach for the mouse to submit your actions and complete the mission.

"y/n, please don't die please don't die please don't die- what are you doing?" peter asks, letting out a yelp at the blood spilling out from your wound.

you let out a soft giggle. "you're cute, parker."

"y/n i know we flirt all the time and i love it i really do and i honestly wish it were more but now really is not the time," peter struggles, eyes getting watery as he sees you pass out in his arms. "shit."

the blood is all over your torso. the boy stares at it for a second, dumbstruck, before opting to take off his shirt and secure it tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding. he then looks around, panicking, before his eyes rest on the computer, he quickly reaches out and hits submit just as the team runs in. within seconds, you're ripped from his arms and he's left there, standing in a daze before scott runs back in and grabs the boy by the arm.

"listen, parker: i know the situation was dire, but was taking the shirt off necessary?" the ant-man asks as they jog back to the quinjet. a tear rolls down peter's blank face. "i mean, i know the two of you've got stuff going on, but your ripped muscles truly are only distraction from the whole hacking thing she was trying to do."

"that's not-"

"yeah, i know, pete. i know."

+ + +

peter couldn't move.

his entire body and brain felt numb as he sat there, resting his chin atop his clasped hands. hell, he hadn't even thought about the fact that he was still shirtless until steve held out a shirt for him that he'd dug out of the boy's closet. and, even after shrugging the tee on, he reverted straight back to his initial position, the inside of his mind feeling like tv static.

it wasn't that he didn't trust dr. helen cho. it was that it was you.

he stayed in the chair outside the medical wing of the compound for almost four hours until dr. cho walks out. the very sight of her makes him shoot up from his seat. "is she okay?"

the woman gives him a sympathetic look as she pulls the surgical mask from her face. "no complications, peter. give her an hour or so to wake up from the anesthesia and you'll be the first to see her, okay?"

"okay," he nods, pursing his lips as she pats him on the shoulder, walking away.

+ + +

the boy had finally settled on a position on one of the couches in the commons, eyes boring straight into the blank ceiling.

"pete!"

he turns his head to see tony. he gives a small, expectant humph.

"she's up," tony says, "if you wanna see her."

peter's off the couch in seconds. "if i wanna see her my ass."

tony turns to watch the boy jog off, letting out a huff. kids these days.

peter bolts into the room, using his hand to swing around the doorway and slow down. you jump at the sudden movement, which makes you wince, still awfully sore.

"you're alive," the boy sighs.

his tone wasn't entirely full of relief. there was a monotonous way about it, one that made you frown slightly. yes, he was relieved as hell, but there was a twinge of anger hidden in his voice.

"yeah, i am," you sigh, nodding.

a painful silence settles in between the two of you. your heartbeat quickens as you notice that the look in peter's eyes wasn't the same soft gaze that you had fallen in love with.

"why did you do it?" he breathes, helplessly giving his head a light shake.

"i had to, peter," you reason, "i didn't even think about it-"

"exactly!"

the harshness and severity of his voice makes your blood run cold. the interruption felt like a dagger cutting across your wound and you wince; you'd never seen this side of peter before. moreover, you most certainly never expected that your first time seeing it, it would be directed towards you.

"you didn't think about it, y/n! it was stupid and irresponsible and i just don't understand why you'd ever make such a dumb decision!" he flops his arms to his sides. "shit, y/n, you're smart as hell! you're the one who knows how to hack into HYDRA's security system and make the whole building blow up!"

"thanks for the compliments, asshat."

a huff falls from your lips and you sit up, continuing before you can even see the surprised expression on the boy's face. you weren't one to go down without a fight.

"i'm not the stupid one here. i can't believe you! you seriously expect me to just sit there and think about just, you know, maybe trying to save your life? to ponder it like a fucking philosopher? do you really think i'm that self-centered? is that the type of person you think i am?" you seethe as your wound plummets a sharp pain throughout your abdomen.

he steps closer. "y/n, i never-"

"no, peter, i'm the one who got shot in the stomach, i'm the one who gets to talk," you interrupt. "don't you get that i did this out of love? god, parker, you're so oblivious all the-"

or maybe he wasn't.

his lips were soft on yours, harsh yet gentle, the whirlpool of emotions that matched your own. you felt his hand curve around your neck to deepen the kiss and you're forced to turn your body to him and put a hand on the rail to steady yourself. a sharp pain radiates through your abdomen and you suck in a harsh breath, reeling back. his hand slips from your neck and the overall loss of contact shakes you even worse than the stitches bearing your stomach.

"sorry," he mutters, a gentle and worried look in his eyes. that's the peter you knew.

"it's okay," you breathe. you shift and sit back, feeling a bit more relaxed as peter pulls up a chair and sits at your bedside, lacing his fingers with yours.

thor's voice rings out from the doorway. "i still cannot believe that it took little y/n getting shot for the two of you to admit your undying love for one another."

your head snaps over to the man. "and since when was that your business?"

before you know it, a boom of sound erupts at the door, the entire team coming out from behind the wall with arguments flying out of their mouths. you sigh, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back as you suppress a smile, peter squeezing your hand before webbing the door closed.

"gottem."

+ + +

i hope y'all enjoyed <3333

[growntolovesecrecyfic]

Grown to Love Secrecy - Chapter Three (Petekey)

Can be read here.

Summary:  Mikey Way hates Oscar Wilde but Pete Wentz convinces him to read The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Chapter Three:  The Tyranny of an Old, Loveless Man

--

It’s been a few days since Mikey and Pete’s first night together on the bus. It was an awkward endeavor, but Pete found it quite charming, seeing how nervous Mikey was and how much Mikey wanted to make him happy. He couldn’t help but smile the whole time he was with Mikey.

For the following days, things have been pretty quiet amongst the bands and their missing bassists. One always off with the other but this doesn’t mean that their performance has faltered if anything their new sparked friendship sparked between the two has set off speculation amongst fans and it drives them crazy to be able to sneak a peek at the hottest new bromance in the scene. Don’t even get me started on when the bands would join each other on stage and perform together, fangirls everywhere go wild.

The sun, the music, and the romance (well, mostly on Mikey’s side) has created the perfect summer for the two. Sure, there are some awkward moments of Mikey questioning their relationship status and Pete’s heart thinking for his dick or maybe the other way around. However, these aren’t things that you communicate with the guy you make out with sometimes. So, much like themselves, their feelings stayed in the closet.

Pete conjured up this crazy idea of having their bands being able to hang out with each other and create bonds within the two groups after they leave Texas. Making plans at going to some waterparks before and after their sets to cool off in New Mexico. Maybe watch the sunsets or see some movies as most friends do. And It was during this time where Pete has an inner monologue with himself everyday about his feelings for Mikey.

He promised himself that he wouldn’t hurt after Jeanae. He wouldn’t bend over backwards for another person because he’s the only one that gets hurt in the end and the only one that’s painted as a terrible person. But even so, his feelings for Mikey grow as they stay up late and talk about what the future holds for the both of them and their bands. Both of their widely anticipated third albums and the tours after Warped. Will they ever tour together again? Will they be happy (together)? Does anything they do matter? They are a bunch of existential motherfuckers.

Pete brought up the idea of marriage and Mikey scoffed at the idea which bewildered Pete.

“I don’t think marriage will ever be for me. When my parent’s divorced, it made me believe that love wasn’t as magical as most think it is? Will it really heal everything? Will having someone love me replace the hatred I have for myself? I don’t know.” Mikey looked up at Pete, finishing his mini tangent before his voice faltered and he looks away from him. “Plus, I don’t think I’ve met the person that I’d want to marry yet.” He didn’t want to think what he said was true as he would like to have a potential future with Pete. Marriage? Maybe not but it doesn’t mean that he wants to rid his life of Pete. He’s one of his closest friends and even if this fling isn’t anything but that, he’d still love to have Pete around.

Pete was silent. He didn’t know why he was so upset. Friends with Benefits shouldn’t hurt this much. The benefits of being Mikey’s friend is the occasional make out sessions behind porta potties at Warped and gross, sticky hand jobs and head in gas station bathrooms with the side effects of falling in love with a man that doesn’t believe in the magic of love and what it can heal. Pete shakes his head, who was he kidding. He was the one to initiate this whole idea of a fling with him, why he so upset? This was his grave and now, he must lie in. Or is it his bed? Well, it might as well be grave with the way that this relationship will the death of him.

“Sorry, I was thinking of… stuff.” Pete responded. ‘Yeah, that’s smooth as hell, Pete.’ He thinks to himself sarcastically, mentally facepalming.

Mikey let out a breathy laugh and Pete swore his heart could burst.

“Yeah, ‘stuff’.” He sits up and moves his hands up to make air quotes, “I can tell. Every time you’re deep in thought, your eyebrows squish together, and you bite your lip and look off into the distance. You’re kind of spaced out, deep in your own world. I think it’s pretty cute.” Mikey shies away from Pete and scoots to the end of his bunk.

Pete smiles and crawls toward Mikey, grabbing his thighs and pulling him into a kiss. The couple kiss for a few moments before they pull away, their breath heavy and their faces hot. Their noses are still in contact with each other as they lose each other into their eyes. They swear they can get high off just being around each other. They lay there for a while before they recollect themselves.

After they come down from their high, they get back to working on Pete’s mission to get Mikey to fall in love with Oscar Wilde (and maybe fall in love with him too).

“Alright. So, what chapter did you read up to last time?” Pete asked as he waited besides Mikey who’s flipping through the pages of the maroon-colored book that the pair have been invest in for the past week.

Mikey skims the book as he answers, “Uh, I don’t remember. I think we left off at the part where Lord Henry was saying some bullshit about his selfishness and how Dorian was like charmed, so he ditches Basil to hang with Lord Henry.” Mikey shakes his head at Dorian’s naivety. How can he leave the one man that seems to care for him for some other person who’s clearly not good for him?

As the pair read the rest of chapter three and move onto their transition into chapter four, Pete couldn’t help but notice the similarities between himself and Lord Henry. From his own perspective, he’s charming and witty yet so destructive. Almost everything good in his life has been ultimately destroyed at his own hand. He’s surprised that the band has lasted as long as it did. Maybe it was the other guy’s efforts into keeping the band afloat or maybe the band is what keeps himself sane. Hopefully, he isn’t the Lord Henry to Mikey’s Dorian. However, Mikey doesn’t see himself as that way. He hasn’t gotten that far into the book to find a character to relate to yet, he finds them all to be either too obsessed with someone else or self-obsessed and he doesn’t think that he’d ever find someone to fall that madly in love with to obsess over.

Despite, Mikey’s constant jabs at Gerard for loving Oscar Wilde so much he can see where Gerard in high school was coming from. This book is amazing and tugged at his heartstrings in a way that was too embarrassing to admit to anyone but himself. And well, maybe Pete. He is his boyfriend. In a way. Maybe. Probably. I don’t know.

While Mikey was having his third relationship crisis of that week, Pete couldn’t help but watch him. He realizes that he’d like Mikey around longer than the summer allows. But would Mikey want that? Is that what’s the best for either of them? Pete shakes away those thoughts of self-doubt. Why wouldn’t Mikey want to hang out with him and the guys? They’re best friends and Mikey’s pretty close with everyone else in the band.

Mikey could feel Pete’s gaze on his face, feeling himself grow hot before he turned to face the older man, “Anything wrong, Pete?”

Pete quickly snaps out of his own mind and shakes his head, “Sorry. Thinking again, aha.” He exhales before he speaking softly, “So… Mikeyway. Would you… and the rest of My Chem like to… I don’t know, erm, hang out tomorrow? Like all of us. As a group.”

Mikey was a bit startled by this proposition; their bandmates hardly hang out with each other off stage. It won’t be that hard to convince them though, considering all they do is hang out with Jamia at merch, sign autographs, hang with the fans, and mess with Cortez.

“I mean, sure? I think tomorrow will be great. I’ve heard New Mexico has the best sunsets.”

Pete smiles, “It’s a date.”

“Alright, who the fuck ate all my Cocoa Krispies” Bob exclaimed entering the main room on the bus. The rest of the guys looked up at him confused while Frank as stoic as ever without peering from his magazine answers, “Yeah, so what if I did it? It wasn’t labeled.”

This set Bob off and the rest of the guys and they all got into an argument over how the labeling system is bullshit and that if you know it’s not yours to not take it. All the guys except Mikey. This isn’t unusual behavior for him as he tries to avoid all conflict if possible. This was evident to Gerard and the guys when some drunk guy punched Gerard without warning and Frank tried to run up on the dude while Ray was holding him back. Leaving Mikey nowhere to fade into the background talking to some girl he took home later that night.

However, Gerard was skeptical, he hadn’t spoken all morning even during rehearsals, he didn’t even leave a few snarky remarks at Frank or Gerard as he usually did. It was odd.

Later after the bands small quarrel, they decided to take a small break and go on a walk while Gerard said that he’d rather stay with Mikey, leaving just the two of them on the bus.

Mikey on his sidekick, texting whoever the hell he’s always texting. Gerard guessed it was the guys from lostprophets or maybe the dudes from Fall Out Boy or Adam or Geoff or the countless of girls that ask for his number that he gives out on the random. He’s surprise that Mikey hasn’t gotten his number leaked yet. Mikey chewed on his lip as his fingers stayed frozen on the keyboard of his sidekick, glancing up at Gerard ever so often.

Gerard was the first one to break the silence, “So, do you have any plans for today?” Mikey kept his eyes glued to the sidekick, scanning the screen as it has the answer to Gerard’s question. Mikey sniffled a bit almost as if he needed some time before he spoke then he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his “Mikey” hoodie. He was prone to allergies, no matter what time of year it was, hay fever is one of his biggest enemies.

“Uhm,” He looked down at his sidekick once more before closing it and setting it to the side, “Pete and I were talking last night. You know, how he’s always trying to make me read The Picture of Dorian Gray? Well, we’ve been hanging out a lot and I know, I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to talk to you guys or hang out with you guys much.”

Gerard nodded along as Mikey spoke, agreeing with everything he said as yes, Mikey did hang out with Pete a bit too much to his liking and he hardly hung out with the band unless Pete is with him. It bothered him a bit, but Frank already said that he shouldn’t speak on it so he’s going to leave it at that.

“And he feels bad and wants us to all hang out as a group. Not just us performing onstage to rile up the fans or anything. Not My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy. Just a couple of dudes from Chicago and Jersey.” Mikey picks up his sidekick, reading the message that’s displayed before him but before he texts back a response, he looks back up at Gerard, “We can all go out to a waterpark far from Warped and we can just relax and swim and be us.”

Gerard smiles, “Yeah, I’d like that. I think the guys would like that too.”

Mikey smiles back at his brother, “Awesome. I’ll let Pete and the rest of the guys know.” Mikey jumps up from the booth and towards the back of the bus.

[mostly-wolfstar-blog]

:I just realized there’s a piano in the Shrieking Shack

Which made me think:

What if Remus tried to play the piano to distract himself?

What if he was terrible at it but he does it anyway?

What if Sirius actually knows how to play the piano because of his family?

And he notices Remus playing once and corrects him?

And then Remus starts asking to play?

What if Sirius doesn’t like to play because it reminds him of his family, but he does it anyway for Remus?

... And then this happened:

(CW: Injuries and some blood)

Eleven-year-old Remus is alone in the Shrieking Shack, waiting for the moon to come. It's his second transformation at Hogwarts and he's still an irrevocable mess. He paces around the room, looks through the window, then, finally, comes to the piano, and, in need to do something with his hands, tries some keys. It's awful, because he really doesn't know how to play, but he can't stop; if he does he might actually go mad. He plays mindlessly, without any sort of rythm, feeling the pull of the moon, until the bones of his fingers break and it's all too much.

That was the first time he played.

Throughout the following years, Remus finds comfort in the piano. He looks it up, learns how to play some simple pieces. It's not perfect, he knows - he's not trying to be - but alone in the Shack, with nothing but anticipation and the horrible pull of the moon, it keeps him going.

~

Now in his fifth year, and Remus is no longer alone. Prongs is peaking through the curtains on the window, while Wormtail's making himself busy by “getting everything ready for the night”, which means arragging a coupe of blankets and trying to make the place look less abandoned, dirty and depressing than it actually is. Moony hears pacing, Padfoot, obviously, but can't bring himself to move his head to look at him.

"What're you looking at?" He hears Sirius ask Prongs.

Remus is in too much pain to pay attention, so, instead, trying to dull the ache in his body, he goes to the piano.

"There are some kids out there." James answers, as Moony plays the first notes to Debussy’s Clair de Lune (aka Moonlight), "What if they try to come in?"

"We're in 'the most haunted house in all of Britain'" Pete answers, "They won't try to come in."

"I would, if you guys dared me," it sounds far, almost like there’s a glass wall between Moony and James.

"Not everyone's as stupid as you, Prongs" Sirius’ voice startles Remus, makes him jump, which, in turn, makes his legs hurt a little more; he hadn't noticed the other boy was so close, standing right behind him, actually.

"Yeah, you worry too much," Wormtail agrees, "They'll go away."

"That's all wrong," comes Padfoot's voice again, but Remus barely even registers it, focusing on his fingers, his fingers moving over the keys in the piano, and definitely not on how it feels like he’s knee is about to explode.

"What?" Prongs asks.

"The- the song. Moony, you're playing at the wrong scale. It's supposed to sound like this," and without permission Sirius is touching his piano, making it sound much more melodic than Moony ever did. That gets the smaller boy to look up, finally, staring at this friend’s face, vaguely lit by the magic candles in the corner, his long hair falling over his eyes, his hands moving swiftly - expertly - on the piano. And then Moony's right arm cracks loudly.

With a gasp, Remus doubles over from the pain and almost falls off the bench. It takes all his strenght to say: "Change."

~

Moony feels the soft fabric of a blanket over his shoulders and opens his eyes to one James Potter. It takes him a couple of seconds to notice his friend's mouth is moving, that he's holding out a piece of chocolate. Remus' arm aches incredibly, but he takes the candy nonetheless, and leans back into the arms of his other two best friends. It's a while before he can pay attention to any of the quiet chatter around him.

"We should bring music some day," Wormtail's saying, quietly, like if he speaks any louder, he’ll hurt Remus (which might actually just be true).

"Yes, of course, let's throw a party while Moony's bones break!" That's Sirius, his particular brand of sarcsm unmistakable.

"It would sure be a breaking party," Moony manages to say, though his voice comes out weak and weird.

"Ouch, that was such a bad joke it actually hurt," Prongs says, taking a hand to his chest dramatically.

Remus feels more than hears Sirius chuckle lightly behind him, "Merlin, did the wolf take your sense of humour?"

"Probably, right between taking my body and my sanity. But don't worry, it's coming back."

"How're you feeling?" Wormtail asks.

"Like every bone single one of my bones just broke, and then reset," he answers, "so, basically normal."

"Can we do anything to help?"

"You've done more than enough," Remus' eyes fall back closed.

"Hey, maybe that music idea wasn't so bad," Prong's voice has that tone that says he's plotting something.

"Sure, let's just go down the street and buy a radio from Zonko's," Sirius' voice drips with sarcasm.

"I was thinking more along the lines of you showing us what you can do on that piano..."

"Oh no!" Padfoot reacts immediately, "no, no, no..."

"Oh, yeah, it looked like you could play, right before..." Peter trails off, not wanting to talk about what happened last night - which grates Remus' nerves, because he's been transforming for most of his life, it's not like he'll break down if it's mentioned in conversation.

"Looked like? Oh no, Padfoot can play," Prongs insists.

"Maybe, but I'm not gonna play for you," Sirius declared.

"Oh come on, we won't make fun of you!" Pete tries.

"Nope. No way."

"Not even for me?" Moony asks.

Padfoot’s silent for a second, then he sighs, "Man..." like saying ‘that’s not fair’, but when Remus can finally raise his head to look at him, there's an unreadable expression on Sirius' face. "Okay, fine, but enjoy the show, guys, 'cause I'm not doing this again."

Padfoot gently disentangles himself from his friends and walks to the piano. His fingers ghost over the keys, the same unreadable look on his face, and for a second Remus considers telling him he doesn't have to, but then Sirius plays. It starts soft at first, the slow melody to a ballad Moony has never heard before, then it gets stronger, echoing through the room, seeping with emotion. Laying there, with his head on Wormtail's lap, Remus forgets the pain and loses himself in the beautiful song. Of course, it all comes back when Sirius stops and the boys have to leave, but, this time, when Madam Pomfrey asks the young werewolf how he's feeling, he's not lying when he says he's fine.

~

Despite his initial refusal, Padfoot plays the piano in the Shrieking Shack many more times. Sometimes the Marauders talk until Pomfrey comes, and no one remembers the music. In a few occasions, Sirius' hand is hurt, or someone is really injured, and the four of them are just too worried. On other days, though, Remus asks. He does so whenever he can, because the piano has always been a comfort, and it means so much more when it's Padfoot playing. When he's feeling okay, he sits next to his friend and tries to learn something. When he's not, he just lays down and lets the melody take over him.

~

"Where did you learn to play the piano?" Moony asks one night, sitting in the astronomy tower alone with the boy he has just kissed for the second time ever. Remus doesn't know what he's doing, what he wants, what Sirius wants, but for now he'll play with those beautiful fingers and make conversation.

"Hum..." Padfoot shifts uncomfortably, but doesn't pull away. "My mom," he says simply, and Remus doesn't miss the quick flash of pain in his eyes.

"Oh. Did she... Make you?"

"No. No, she didn't," his voice turns quiet.

"Then... What?" Remus asks, because Sirius looks so sad and he doesn't get it.

There's a long sigh, before the long-haired boy starts speaking. "I used to love it. It was this thing that I did with my mom and Reggie, we'd spend hours at it and have so much fun." He pauses, and Remus wonders if he should say something, but turns out he doesn't have to. "But, then, I grew up, came to Hogwarts, and... And, now, I only play at their parties when they don't want me talking to people. I mean, the piano is right in the living room, so most of the time I don't wanna go down there and have to see my parents. And mom never calls me to play anymore. And then there are these parties, and they are just so embarrassed of me, they have to make sure I stay far away from everyone. I mean, it's not like I want to talk to any of those assholes, but..."

"But it hurts anyway," Moony nods, now properly holding his hand.

"Yeah... What really hurt the most, though, was when she started playing with Reg. Sure, he came to the piano sometimes, but he didn't even like it that much, I mean... It was our thing, mine and hers." Sirius looks up in a little exasperated gesture, and Remus suddenly remembers that he's been asking him to play at Shrieking Shack for years - he's making his friend relieve these bad memories... He wishes he'd known.

"I'm sorry I asked you to play."

"Nah, it's okay. Happy to oblige," and there's that charming smirk again.

~

Moony doesn't ask Padfoot to play again, and the times at the Shrieking Shack might have a little less light, but Moony doesn't mind, because his friends are still by his side and Pads is happy.

Then, one time, Moony doesn't respond in the morning. He has turned back, and he's breathing, but he hasn't said anything and his eyes have barely opened. Sirius feels like he's going to throw up.

"It doesn't look like any of his injuries are that bad," declares James, which sounds like a huge understatement to Sirius because Remus is covered in blood.

"Hey, Moony," Wormtail lays a gentle hand on the boy's arm, "just... Say something so we know you're okay?" Peter's the only one that's had the guts to talk to Remus right now, probably because he's the only one who didn't hurt him. Peter didn't sink his teeth in the sickly soft flesh of his friend's arm, didn't slam him against a tree, wasn't responsible for scaring the wolf into the deeper end of the Forbiden Forest - where he'd been alone and vulnerable, and gotten hurt (and right now, it doesn’t matter that it was self-defense, because every time Sirius catches a glimpse of Moony’s unmoving, bloody form, he feels like a monster). Sirius can't do this, he can't. And, meanwhile, Wormtail’s requests are turning into begging: "Moony, say something, please. Or, or don't- don't say anything if you can't, but, just- do something. Let us know you're alright, we gotta know you're alright... Just- open your eyes, please? Moony, can you-"

"Wormtail, you're scaring him," James cuts him off, and Sirius gets close enough to see Moony's body, small and red and so, so fragile. It lasts onlya second, though, because then Sirius is leaning back against the far wall, wishing the image out of his mind.

"Moon-" Prongs starts and his voice falters. He has to stop to clear his throat, before going on: "it's okay, Moony. Shhhh, it's okay," it sounds like he's trying to calm himself as much as his friend.

"Oh god..." Wormtail whispers, but Sirius doesn't know why, doesn't want to know.

He feels useless, standing there against the wall while his friends do their best to help Moony, covering him in blankets, trying to stop the bleeding. Prongs is wondering out loud about the risk of using a spell on Moony right now - something Wormtail doesn't know the first thing about - when Sirius wills himself to walk closer. He fists his hands in determination and takes a step that allows him to see his injured friend over Prong's shoulder. The blankets cover most of the injuries, but they're starting to soak in blood, and the small body is shaking slightly and this can't be good at all. He wants to tell James to just use the charm because it looks like Moony is going to die right there, but he knows it's probably not that bad and no one can handle this better than his best friend. Padfoot wants so badly to get to Moony, to hold him, tell him everything will be alright, but he feels like if he takes one step closer he'll lose the frail control he has over himself.

Instead, he walks toward the piano. As much as it reminds him of his mother, of the happy family they'd once been and of how far away from that they are now, it helps Moony. So, sitting there at the little bench, the only song Sirius can think of is Clair de Lune, Moonlight, by Debussy, the song the Remus had tried to play back in one of their first nights in the Shrieking Shack, the song his mother had taught him when Sirius was eight. He starts slowly, getting reaqucainted with the notes, then gains confidence, momentum, letting the song wash over him. His thoughts wander to big fingers over Sirius’ small ones, his mom, guiding him gently over the keys, and it hurts in a way he can’t understand, can’t process, and so he tries to think of something else, anything else, and his thoughts land on his bleeding friend, his bleeding Moony, who loves the piano because it used to be his only company in painful nights, nights in which he could have died, nights like this one... Padfoot feels the prickle of tears at the back of his eyes, but he won’t cry, won’t allow himself to do so. Instead, he pours it all into the dusty old piano and promises, to himself and to a Remus who can’t hear him, that he will never again stop playing for his Moonlight.

[theysaywhatasadsight]

The Perils of Love

A/n: A short imagine for @bucky-smiles ‘s bollywood writing challenge, my prompt was this song . This one was beta read by @nasarogers and @mcuspidey and @thebookwormslytherin

"So then, obviously, she smacks him because what else is she gonna do? Here the idiot is trying to woo her and she's trying to get funeral arrangements for her hamster ..." her hands waved about, bangles jangling. Almost every session went like this, an hour and a half where they would actually study and the last 30 minutes spent discussing random things. Y/N sighed and closed her notebook. "I fucking hate maths. Or anything that has both numbers and letters. Who thought it was a good idea, anyway?"

Peter didn't feel mentioning his fondness for algebra would win him any points from Ms. Liberal Arts. When initially she had approached him, asking for help studying maths, he had been confused as to why a photography major needed it. She had muttered darkly that she held the same beliefs.

He wasn't complaining, though. The only class they shared was the one subject she detested, but atleast he got to see her instead of his stupid textbooks.

Peter had tried to resist, of course, devoting his attention to getting a degree and a job (though his mentor had already promised him one, he didn't want to look undeserving of it) but the force that was YN YLN was unstoppable when it came to convincing. 

Resist why, someone might ask. Studying with a pretty, intelligent girl had to have some benefits, right?

Benefits only if someone enjoyed longing and heartache, as if wishing for something that was forbidden. Nothing quite as dramatic as disapproval from anyone or interruptions in studies, it was clear that she wasn't very interested in him aside from as a study partner.

He had zoned out while she was playing with her phone, thinking about how patrols and studying had ripped away any hopes of sleep from him, when she looked up at him.

"I should go, right? Ugh, I hate doing this to you, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, uh, I was-uh not that you need to apologise- I think you, uh don't need my help anymore…"

She looked confused. "I-What?"

"I think we shouldn't study together anymore."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"It's not you, it's me."

"What the fuck?" She was plain pissed now. Snatching her books back, she stood, frowning. "Thanks for the help, I guess." And stormed away before he could say anything. 

Head in his hands, he decided to call Tony.

~

"So you like this girl, and she asks you to help her study and then you decide to break it up...why?" Tony sounded sleepy and confused.

"Shit, is it 2 already? I thought you were awake." He deflected the question.

"You know I stay awake until 3, Pete. And answer the question. Why did you end it?"

"I-just, I don't know. This just friends thing is killing me."

"Then ask her out?"

"I'm telling you, she's definitely not interested."

Tony, reading a magazine of Pepper's while she slept beside him, smiled at his son's words, mirroring those he had confessed to Rhodey some odd 15 years ago. "And how do you know that?"

"Because...well leave it. I should probably go on patrol anyway."

"Sent a suit out. Get some sleep, kiddo, I can hear your yawning from here. And stop drinking that damn coffee, you'll ruin your sleep."

"I'm not as old as you, remember?"

"Oh yeah? Tell you what, I'll come visit on Saturday and we'll see who looks more dead. And don't worry about the girl, okay? Just don't be a dick. Don't tell your aunt I said that."

~

YN asked him to coffee once to just talk, after class ended, but he refused, pleading a test in Chemistry. She pursed her lips and said nothing. 

As she walked away, all of his row turned to stare at him. Ever since they had started studying together, he had been the envy of almost every idiot there, some whispering nefarious rumours over his and her intentions. 

"Did you two break up?" One of them whispered.

"You seem quite interested?" He whispered back, making all of them turn back to packing their things up.

She tried talking to him again when she ran into him in the hallway, but he got away citing a class he was late to. 

Irritated, YN stormed up to his dorm, murder written on her face. His floormates, who liked to tease them normally, were scarce, probably terrified. 

She knocked thrice at the door, jaw tight. At the lack of response, she knocked again. She fished out her phone from her jeans, cursing the company for making it so tight and herself for wearing it instead of her normal leggings. She called Peter again, determined to talk.

~

"So yeah, Vogue didn't exactly cover all the angst of the relationship. Jesus, half of it they made up." Tony sat on the bed while Peter lounged on the chair, poor posture and leg resting on the table. He merely hummed. While Tony's advice was great, he wasn't sure he really understood the situation.

"I just-you knew at some level Pepper would be willing to get with you, right? I don't think that's the case here."

"Shall I tell you a secret? No girl is willing to study a subject she hates, that too without break, for only passing a subject. Just so you know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have cooking duty today." Stark got up, stretching. "I really do feel dead, wow." 

Peter rolled his eyes but got up to drop Tony off. They both heard the knock at the same time. It rang three times, and after a gap, again. He checked his phone, which showed missed calls from the girl he was dreading to talk to.

~

The door swung open and she was greeted by a face she'd only seen on TV. Tony Stark smiled at her, muttering an excuse me, walked away whistling. She tilted her head and looked at Peter, who had gotten up to close the door.

"Mind if I come in? Can I distract the scholar for two minutes?" Her voice was sugary sweet but her eyes betrayed her frustration.

"Sure, come on in." He opened the door fully. She came in, slamming it shut. She thrust the tiny tetrapack container she held towards him. Twisting it, he saw it was a juice box. Peter raised a single eyebrow.

"Since you want to act so childish." She snarked, stabbing a hole in her own capri sun. "You must be getting such good grades now that you're not studying with me."

"That's not the thing…" he looked away.

"Eye contact, please."

"Look, this just friends thing. I can't do it. I legitimately cannot. First of all, I hate maths, and second, even if I didn't, I can't focus on anything but you. Anytime you tell me about how cute that guy in psych is or how that girl in ethics helped you I actually go ballistic. Totally creepy, I know. I want you to be my girlfriend, but since that is not possible. That goddamn mole on your chin keeps following me, and I just wanna kiss you-" he was interrupted in his rant by her lips on his. 

3 seconds later, she broke away, smiling from ear to ear. Peter was still in shock, made catatonic by the fact that YN HAD JUST KISSED HIM.

Before he could say anything, she was kissing him again, dragging him forward by the shirt.

~

Patting his pockets, Tony checked for his wallet to pay for the can from the vending machine when he realised he'd probably left it behind, showing Peter a photograph of Pepper he carried that was so old, it was ripping at the edges.

"Fuck." He turned around, hoping the kids wouldn't be fighting. He had enough white hairs trying to break up Morgan's kindergarten fights. No one had warned him kids would be so much trouble.

Except Pepper, of course. She really was the best.

~

Their fervent making out was interrupted by the door swinging open, Tony's voice drifting into the room.

"You seen my wallet? Can't lose that photo… Ms.Potts made sure every other copy was destroyed, I swear the woman is more vain than me-OH MY GOD OKAY I DID NOT NEED TO SEE THAT." 

YN, turning around to lash the person interrupting with her fiery tongue tripped and fell when she saw who it was, dragging Peter, who she held by the shirt, down with her. They landed in a heap on the floor.

Tony grabbed his wallet, put a finger on his lips and walked away, closing the door behind him.

"Wanna get that coffee now or…?"

"I may have another capri sun. I'm too embarrassed to go out now."

YN laughed and pecked him on the cheek. 

[sensestinging]

Perfect Day (Peter Parker × Reader)

Pairing: Peter × Reader, mentions of Peter × MJ

Warning: Cheating, angst, soooo much angst, swearing

Summary: “I saw "I love you” written in the steam/And I couldn’t help but smile at the sweet message you left me/But it wasn’t in your handwriting/Then those happy little letters/Were the saddest things I’ve ever seen" 

Or Peter has to choose between MJ and you, but instead of choosing he continues to date both, then you find out.

Word count: 1,993

A/N: Think of Schmidt from New Girl like end season 2 early season 3. My headcanon is that Peter would do something similar because he doesn’t know how to deal with 2 girls wanting to date him and instead of hurting one girl he can’t bring himself to end it with either and then angst. Also they are put of high school at this point, maybe early 20s, and Peter is living in his own apartment. 

Based off Perfect Day by Gabbie Hanna

Gif by @starksparker

“What’s it going to be, Parker? Y/N, or me?”

MJ’s voice is laced with venom, arms crossing over her chest. You study her face. You don’t know her well but she exudes confidence and strength, but even you can see the sadness behind her eyes. They’re glassy, half lid. You bite the inside of your cheek and look back to Peter.

His eyes are wide like a deer in headlights. He looks between the two of you, speechless. He never thought he would have two girls telling him to choose.

“MJ is right, Peter. So, who do you love?” Your voice is softer than MJ’s but your heart is heavy. You already know he’s going to choose MJ and just want to get it over with.

Peter’s eyes snap to you, stuttering out incoherent sentences while trying to also change the subject. You see MJ sigh and roll her eyes out of the corner of your eye and you look to the floor.

“Whatever. Just tell me in the morning. I’m over it tonight.” MJ stomped to the door, middle finger lifting to flip Peter off, but you couldn’t help but feel it was partially directed at you too.

You take a gentle breath and lace your fingers together in front of you. “Call me in the morning when you’ve decided.” You force a small smile and walk out the same door.

Peter looks around him in the now empty room, hoping maybe someone, anyone, had been standing there watching the events that just happened and would have some advice to give him. But no one was there and Peter was alone and in way over his head.

You and Peter were spending a day at the beach. The usually crowded sand was abnormally empty and it was beautiful out. When Peter suggested going you initially thought he was crazy. It was overcast with a slight chilly breeze, but you put your suit on under your clothes and went along with him anyway. When you got there, the sun was out and shining bright. There were a few clouds floating by, but you could still see the bright, beautiful blue behind. Your hands stay connected as you made your way into his apartment, smile and joking with each other the way up. 

“Will you shower first, or shall I?” You say, closing the distance between the two of you, giving him a gentle kiss.

“Well, we could save water and go together?” Peter gently squeezed your butt, gaining a small squeak from you. You smack his arm and move away from him.

“Calm down, Peter. We can have plenty of that later. I want to make sure I get clean, not just fool around.” You start walking toward the bathroom, looking over your shoulder and giving him a flirtatious smile.

He was about to give you a snarky reply when his phone rang. He grabbed it from his pocket and shook his head.

“Saved by Ned, L/N. Shower and I’ll get back to you with a witty response.” He waved his phone at you, causing you to laugh. You nod and open the bathroom door, locking it behind you.

As you shower, you think about how perfect the day truly was. Your heart fluttered thinking of every kiss, hug, brush of the hand. The butterflies in your stomach strong as you washed the sand out of your hair. Every time your fingers ran across your scalp, you thought of every splash of water Peter hit you with. Every sandy kiss you shared as you lay on the sand, relishing in the heat from the sun.The shower was short, not wanting to keep Peter waiting long. You get out of the shower, grabbing a towel and you reach to wipe the mirror so you can see your reflection when you see something written in the steam. Your heart skips a beat as you think of Peter having written the note for you; a heart with ‘Love You’ written neatly inside. As you reach out to trace the note in the air, you felt a tugging at your heart.

That’s not Peters. That’s MJ’s handwriting.

You jerk your hand back and bring it to hold a fist against your chest. A gasp made its way out, not that you wanted it to happen but the air feels like it had been pulled from your lungs. The room was spinning and you hadn’t realized your breath had quickened until you forced yourself to sit on the toilet to steady yourself. Your mind went to the worst case scenario, but that wasn’t Peter. Peter wouldn’t lie to you. Yeah, he did about being Spider-Man for all but a week, but he wasn’t good at hiding things. Looking back there were signs that he was the web shooting hero, it was so in your face that you just laughed when he confessed to you.

“Obviously, Peter.” You brought your hand up to your eyes, pretending to wipe away tears from your laughter. “You don’t exactly hide it well.” And he laughed with you, rubbing the back of his neck and told you about all the slip ups he had made.

But sitting there, feeling the invisible heat of MJ’s handwriting burning into your side, you can’t think of anything that would make you second guess Peter’s actions. And then, on the flip, why would MJ have written a note like that to Peter in the first place?

You take a deep and shaky breath at this thought. The MJ you know, while not very well, didn’t strike you as the type to leave cute notes around like that. Not the affectionate type, you had decided. You convince yourself she would never in a million years write something so loving, for a partner or otherwise, and stand more confidently and shake the thoughts from your mind. But as you looked back to the note you feel the tugging in your gut telling you it was hers. 

You remember the note she had written for you and how the weird things you didn’t understand at the time now made sense.  'I hope you can be happy.’ And 'You are an awesome lady who deserves the best.’ Why else would she have written those things if she didn’t think he had dumped you. And while you didn’t have the note on you, the writing was etched into your brain and it matched what was on the steam. You stand on shaky legs, dressing into your clothes as you slowly opened the door, hearing Peter still talking to Ned. You walked into the hallway, turning to look at Peter who had his back toward you. He was speaking in a hushed voice, laughing slightly every once in awhile and you felt your body numb. What if that wasn’t Ned, but really MJ? Your legs move on their own as you come up behind him, grabbing the phone.

“He’ll call you back.” You say, hanging up and cutting off a confused Ned. You set his phone down on the counter and look at your hand.

“What the hell, Y/N? I was in the middle of-”

“Why was MJ here?” Your eyebrows scrunched together, taking a deep breath before looking into his eyes. His jaw was open, eyes wide, but he closed his mouth quickly when you looked at him.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He gulped, jaw tensing and you could tell he was grinding his teeth. 

“I saw what she wrote in the steam on the mirror, Peter. You can’t lie to me.” You watch as he folds his arms, frowning at you.

“You think words written on a mirror are from MJ?” You nod. “You don’t even know her. How could you recognize her handwriting?”

“She wrote me a letter after we got back together. If it’s not hers, and I know it definitely isn’t yours, whose handwriting is it?”

“Must have been… May. May probably wrote that when she was last over?” It came out as less of a statement and more of a question, causing you to let out a scoff.

“Sure. May came over- over a month ago, I should add- and wrote "I love you” on your mirror?“ You shook your head.

"How do you know that was a month ago?" 

Your hands go to your head, eyes widening slightly. "Because I was fucking here, Peter. We all had dinner together.” You felt like you were going to lose your mind.

“Well, it still could have been from then!”

“No, no it couldn’t. What is in that room is fresh. Like, for the last few days fresh.” You open your mouth to say more, but you’re suddenly speechless. You never pegged Peter to be the type to lie. Silence stretches between you too, both trying to find the right words to say. You clasp your hands together and bring them to your face. “Please. Just tell me the truth.”

Peter’s eyes begin to water and he looks down, letting out a breath. “Y/N-” He takes a step closer to you, but you step away. “Y/N, I-I never meant to hurt you.”

Your breath flies out of you again. You know he’s rambling to you, spouting off excuses but you can’t hear him over the pounding of your broken heart and the angry buzz in your head. Your knees feel weak, and you find your way to the couch, sitting down with a thud as Peter stands in front of you. You feel the tears silently fall from your face, and you take a breath and close your eyes tight.

“How long?” You whisper, cutting off Peters rambling.

“W-What do you mean?” You smile, but it isn’t a happy smile. It’s a frustrated smile, the type you force yourself to put on in order to not snap.

“How. Long. It’s a pretty self explanatory question there, Pete.” You stare harshly back at him, seeing him stumble a bit, biting his lip and looking down.

“Right before we…” He whispers, not wanting to finish his own sentence. 

Your mouth falls open in disgust. “You… You came to break up with me?” Peter reaches out to touch you, but you move to stand, moving so that the couch was between you two. “How fucking dare you, Peter Parker. You are such a baby." 

"I never meant for this to happen. You have to know I never meant to hurt you.” His hands were shaking, tears falling down his face. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, sorry doesn’t really cut it.” You move to grab your bag.

“Please! Just, don’t leave.” He moved to follow you, trying to keep his panic at bay.

“Goodbye, Peter.” You say grabbing the door, but he forces it back closed.

“I need you to listen to me-”

“No! I don’t need to listen to anything you say. You know, I was just thinking how perfect today was. How you still made me feel these stupid butterflies every time we kiss. You killed them tonight. I have nothing left for you. I don’t want to hear anything else and I-I can’t deal with this.” You yanked the door open despite Peters arm still being on it. “You ruined this Peter. Not MJ, not me. You. That’s all the closure you’ll get from me.”

You shake your head at him one last time before slamming his apartment door behind you. You had expected to hear it open back up, Peter chasing back after you but that doesn’t happen. You walked to the elevator but opt to take the stairs instead. At Least take them to go down a floor or two just in case Peter did decide to open his door as you’re standing there waiting. But as you get down one set of stairs you collapse on the stairwell and let yourself sob.

What did I do to deserve this?

[breadkneewrites]

Keep Yourself Alive

kathleen aka @losingmymindtonight i borrowed this scene-by-scene style from you and was slightly inspired so this is for you, my love. ily ❤🤠

..

It takes a month for Tony to notice something’s wrong. 

It’s been a month since Peter’s death was reversed, and Tony just now noticed something’s wrong. 

I guess you could it boil it down to ‘he’s a bad father (-figure).’

..

A week after Peter is brought back and carefully swaddled in blankets on Tony’s couch, Tony notices that the kid carries around one of his blankets. 

It’s a ratty, old thing that smells like stale whiskey (from worse times -- before Peter) and is covered in not-a-few stains (nothing disgusting, mind you). Pepper gave it to Tony a few months after her initial signing as his personal assistant, claiming, “ you needed some blankets to make your house a home.” At the time, he thought it irrational and used it only when he was having a bad day. 

Now, it seems, the old thing has a new owner. Pepper notices every night when she comes home from the office. She tucks it further around Peter’s shoulders, plants a quick kiss on the his head, and passes to change into her sweatpants and slippers.

Honestly, Tony just thought the blanket thing was similar to how children carry around a teddy bear when they’re, like, two. One night he asked Pete about it, and the kid shrugged it off.

“I can buy you a new one. You don’t gotta use that old thing. Pepper gave me that years ago.”

“I like it,” Peter said plainly, shrugging. The blanket was tightened around his shoulders as he said so. The motion seemed protective, like the old cloth was going to be stolen from him. Tony just stretched his hand to ruffle the kid’s hair lightly, ignoring the way Peter’s soft flinch made his heart twinge. 

“Alright, but let it be washed with tomorrow’s laundry. It smells of booze.” Tony paused, his eyes crinkling with a smile, “my fault.” 

“I don’t mind it.” Peter doesn’t seem to have anything else to say after that.

Tony draws his hand away and lets it fall to his side. 

..

Two weeks after Peter is brought back, Tony sees the kid biting his nails. 

It started as a small thing. Tony would see the kid pick at his thumb and gently slap his hand away from his mouth. He usually followed this up with a joke.

“You’re gonna lose all your nails there, Pete.”

“What? Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was doing it.” Peter drops his hand and wipes the spots of blood on his blanket. Tony watches him do so, idly wondering if the blanket’s been washed yet. 

“You gonna stain my blanket too?”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark!” Peter jumps off the couch and runs the blanket to the kitchen sink, throwing it under the hot water. He recoils with a hiss as it hits his hand. Tony rushed forward to inspect the burns. 

“Hey, you alright, kid?” He flips Peter’s hands and notes the way the nails have been chewed to shreds. Deciding not to comment on them (he’s pretty sure Peter’s not in the mood for a little lecture), he reaches behind the kid to turn off the water. 

“I’m fine,” he mumbles. The blanket is partially soaked now, and Peter looks at it. His shoulders tense briefly. “I’ll just hang it up to dry. The blood’s probably gone now.” He pulls his hands away from Tony and gathers up his blanket (it’s far, far too big for him). 

Tony watches him stumble to the living room.

..

Three weeks after Peter’s brought back, the nightmares start. 

The kid’s always had nightmares, always about his Uncle Ben or Aunt May, so Tony honestly doesn’t think much more of them. It’s become habit for him to wake up in the middle of the night (or, more recently, stay awake) and rush into Peter’s room to pull him into an awkward hug. The kid sobs and shakes as he struggles to explain what happened in the nightmares each night, and Tony tries to soothe him.

“Shush, Pete. You don’t gotta tell me. Just breathe, okay?” Peter would never answer, but stops trying to tell Tony what’d happened. Now, he just curls against Tony’s side and digs his fingers into whatever shirt Tony is wearing as he tries to catch his breath. Tony always feels warm when he does that. 

Maybe he’s just selfish.

Tony will brush the curls off Peter’s sweaty forehead as he struggles to pull Peter into a more comfortable hug. Some nights, however, Peter is violent. 

Tony shuffles in the room and quietly tries to soothe the kid by waking him with a gentle shake, moving to curl into the bed with him, and Peter will claw his way out of his grip. He scratches (he doesn’t really have fingernails that can hurt anymore) and scrambles to get away from Tony, his body a wreck of shivers. 

Sometimes, Tony has to wrestle Peter into his hold to get him to stop yanking at his own hair, pulling at it like it will snap him out of his fear. The screaming is the worst. Peter will scream in absolute terror, the sound gut-wrenching, and throw himself to the other side of the bed. Away from Tony. Am I the monster?

It takes a while for Peter’s eyes to clear up, the confusion and fear gone, and he chooses to crush himself against Tony in a smothering apology. His throat is too destroyed to say anything, so he just attaches himself to Tony’s side and curls his fist into the man’s shirt.

Those nights, Tony is reminded how he’s a bad father (-figure). (He would never call Pete his kid - he obviously wouldn’t want him to.)

After Peter is calmed, he will silently detach himself from Tony’s side and sink into his mountain of blankets (more had joined the first). 

Tony gets up and leaves the room.

..

A month after Peter’s brought back, the panic attacks start.

Usually, they’re short and sweet. He sees something that reminds him of Titan -- of space and the war he wasn’t meant to fight -- and he’ll start breathing heavily. His hands shake and he curls them into fists, the blanket is wrapped more firmly around his shoulders, and he cries. Tony sits next to him and talk about things that are not related to the attack, rubbing his back in slow circles. 

Pepper thinks Tony needs to put the kid into therapy. He needs it. He does, and Tony knows it. But he’s already considered himself a bad father (-figure), and Peter already declined the offer, so Tony just tucks his feet up on the couch next to Peter, turns on Star Wars, and talks shit about the plot-holes. 

“This isn’t even a plot hole,” Tony begins, the blanket scratchy on his hand as he rubs comforting circles on Peter’s shaking back, “but why the fuck do the Stormtroopers always miss? Solo is right there? He’s literally right there.” He points for emphasis and Peter follows the direction of his hand to the screen. A smile briefly twitches his lips. A better attack then. 

“I-It’s science fiction,” Peter retorts. Tony ignores the stuttering (he’s learned that’s another way to just throw his progress backwards) and opens his palm in exasperation as Han Solo dodges yet another laser-bullet-thing. 

“It’s dumb. Anyone could’ve made that shot.” Pete just sends him a watery smile and draws his ragged blanket closer. Tony keeps rubbing his back, well-aware of the bumps he can feel on his spine. Not eating enough. Gotta tell Pepper this one. She’s gonna freak. 

Twenty minutes later, Tony drops his hand and Peter shoves his legs onto Tony’s lap. 

..

It takes one month, four days, and several nights of sleeplessness for Peter to finally tell Tony what’s wrong.

It’s nothing he didn’t already know. He knows the tell-tale signs of PTSD. Hell, he struggles with it every damn day. But he wanted Peter to tell him. To come clean -- to ask for help. It’s what he needed to do. Shoving the kid into a therapist’s office and a handful of pills wasn’t going to help the kid grow from his trauma. It’d just hide it. 

Then again, Tony’s never been good at handling his own problems. He’s probably just wrong. 

“Mr. Stark?” Tony glances over at Peter one day while tinkering on a new suit. It’s nearly finished, but it’s not like anyone but Tony could see that. Parts were strewn around the lab haphazardly. Peter hugs his blanket tighter, his chewed fingernails digging into the scratchy material. “Can we talk?”

Tony tosses his screwdriver onto the nearest table and wipes his hands on his work cloth. “Yeah, Pete, what’s up?” Peter’s eyes flick around the room, full of internalized panic. Dread creeps up Tony’s spine.

“I think,” the kid pauses, swallows, and continues. “I think I need help?” His tone raises in a question as he drops his eyes to Tony’s new suit and back up to settle them on his mentor’s face. “I don’t know what to do.”

Tony moves to gently wrap his arm around Peter’s bicep and tugs him towards a couch he had put in the lab so Peter could sit and talk to Tony as he works. After settling on the couch and tucking his socked feet under his body, Peter twists to look at Tony, determined. “I need help,” he repeats. 

“Alright, but you’re going to have to give me more to work on than just that, Pete.”

“I-” Peter scrambles for a place to begin. “I can’t sleep, at night, and-” Tony keeps quiet as the kid tries to sputter his way through this. He needs to be able to say it (at least, he thinks the kid’s supposed to). “I think I need help,” Peter just says lamely. It takes a couple of pauses for him to continue.

“Ever since what happened with Thanos, I can’t stop thinking about it. Dying. I’m scared, Mr. Stark. I can’t--” he waves his hand around in an attempt to explain, “I don’t know what to do.”

Tony moves to wrap the kid in a crushing hug. “Just saying it, Pete, is a good start.” That’s all the kid needs to spill everything left unsaid.

“I keep using this blanket to hide, because I feel like he’s gonna get me. I can’t stop biting my nails because if I do, then I won’t know if I can still bleed or if I’m still dust.” Tony tightens his grip at that one. “The nightmares,” Peter chokes out, “are always of him. Titan. The snap. You--” 

It feels like a cold slap to the face, but he should’ve expected it, honestly. Of course Peter is terrified of him. He’s a monster. He let Peter die. Let him fade into dust-- didn’t help him-- let him fall--

“--you dying.” Peter finishes, snatching Tony’s attention. “Mr. Stark, I don’t want you to die.” Somehow, in Peter’s confession, he’d pressed closer to Tony so he could curl that fingernail-bitten wrist into his sweaty, dirty shirt. 

“I’m not going to die, you hear me? I’m right here.”

Peter falls asleep curled next to Tony, his face stained with tears. Tony drops his hand from the kid’s back. After a moment’s thought, he decides to put it back.

..

Tony Stark may be a bad father (figure), but as he moves to wrap the blanket around both him and his kid, he feels like everything will be alright. He might not know what to do about his own PTSD, let alone Peter’s, but they’ll get there somehow, someday. Tomorrow, he’ll ask Peter about joint therapy.

They’ll get through it. Together. 

Maybe he’s not so bad of a father after all. 

(He’s never been right before.)

[starker-stories]

My Virgin (Revisited), Chapter 2

This chapter on AO3

By @thestarkerisobvious​ and @starker-stories​​

All links are to AO3. As everyone knows by now, starker-stories blew up his starkerstories blog, losing everything that was below a readmore on tumblr-full-text posts. So the safest place for fic is AO3. You don’t need to be a creator to have an AO3 account. You can have one solely as a reader. But to read anything at all in this series, you can just be an anonymous reader and/or commenter.

The entire Messages Series.  All links are to AO3.

Messages Unsent  (complete & posted)

Nothing More Than A Machine  (complete & posted)

Tomorrow  (complete & posted)

My Virgin (Revisited)  (complete & posted)

The Cold  (completely written) posts every Thursday  

Untitled Book 6  ( in progress )

Untitled Book 7  ( in progress )

Tags: Sexual Roleplay, Virginity Kink, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Kissing, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, A teeny weeny bit of plot for the next book hinted at, Happy Ending, Happy Sex

Chapter 2: You’ve been kissed

But Peter had been thinking all day, hadn’t he? Been thinking about the things they had talked about, and the things Peter still had yet to say. Some of those things Tony might not like, Peter was still worried about that. But some of those things...

“Tony?” Peter asked breathlessly, pulling his face away enough to speak.

“I love you.” Wait, that wasn’t it. He tried again (but dammit Tony’s hands were making it really hard to think.)

“Iwannatellyousomething” Peter blurted out before Tony’s mouth distracted him again. That worked, but unfortunately it left Tony looking up at him and Peter with nothing to say.

His brain flitted back to the things that had been on his mind that day — The Cold, and how Tony might react when he explained it, and something else.

He decided to go with the Something Else.

(Even though it was really embarrassing.)

So he ducked his head into Tony’s neck (his favorite hiding place) and whispered it.

“I have a confession to make.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished he hadn’t said them. Why talk about it now, when they had discussed it thoroughly (and tenderly!) the night before?

But dammit, it made him hot to talk about it. And, ah hell maybe… maybe Peter had initiated the kissing on the couch just in case he did work up the nerve to ask…

“I only ever lied to you once, Tony. Ever. That first night. You asked and I… I told you I had done ‘it’ before. And I hadn’t. Not with… people I mean. Toys don’t count. So that means I lied. That was my first time.”

“I know baby. I told you, I could read you like an open book.” Tony casually reached around Peter’s waist, sliding his hand up under the hem of his t-shirt, caressing him with a firm touch, with the warmth of his palm.

“But I’m still mad at myself for not telling you. Because…

“Okay, maybe this is wrong but…”

He blushed furiously and ducked his head. But hiding his face wouldn’t make him understood, so he tried whispering it into Tony’s ear.

“Maybe I… always wondered… what would you have done if I had told you?”

“Wanna find out?” Tony said, playfully leering.

“Oh god.” Peter whimpered, closing his eyes and hiding as best he could in Tony’s shoulder even as he grinned from ear to ear. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach tightened… and his cock immediately stood at attention. “Um… yes.”

“In that case… This has to be in my bed.” He smiled, hoping Peter would catch the inflection. Because while it was their bed now, that night it had been his. “I loved carrying you there. Should do it more often. Do what you did that first night. Arms around my neck, legs around my waist.”

When they arrived, Tony didn’t just dump Peter onto his bed, he let him down slowly, kissing him the entire way until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Tony climbed in and wrapped his arms around Peter, gently guiding him to the center of the enormous bed.

“Baby, I will never get over the way you look right here. We can be together ten years and I’ll never get tired of this sight. But this isn’t about ten years from now. This is about my beautiful virgin who I want to tenderly take apart until he’s screaming from how good it feels.”

Peter giggled and blushed and covered his face with his hands. Oh well — it wasn’t egotism if you really were that good.

“I’ve waited so long to kiss you, Peter.” Not untrue then, not untrue now.

Tony brought their lips together so slowly. His fingers stroked the side of Peter’s face, slid into his hair, with just enough firmness to let him know that he was in the hands of someone who knew what he was doing. In the hands of someone who appreciated what he was being given.

Lips together but not kissing, Tony moved the words across them. “I love you.”

He kissed them into Peter’s mouth, probing softly with his tongue at the line between them. Teasingly light, exploring the boy’s senses, listening to his responses. Learning Peter’s body. For the first time. All over again. It had been so long since they’d made love in this bed, made love like this, it was almost like it was their first time.

He found the touches with his tongue that made Peter shiver. Too much. He found the ones that made him gasp. The ones that made him moan. The ones that made him pant into Tony’s mouth. That made Peter want more. He waited, deepening the kiss bit by bit, always leaving Peter wanting more.

Tony broke the kiss and stretched out over Peter’s body, holding most of his weight on his elbows and knees, just letting the heat from their skin touch. His hands on either side of Peter’s head when he kissed Peter again, his hands tangled in Peter’s curls, fingers twisting them, playing with them, while he kept his kiss teasing again, not deeper like they had been doing before. He waited again to sense Peter’s need.

Tony used to be so crude in bed. It was all take. Didn’t matter how inexperienced his partner. He didn’t hurt, but neither did he care. It took time for him to learn. To appreciate. To observe the little reactions that a body made. Until making someone have those reactions became almost as good as the finish itself. Maybe moreso. Definitely moreso when it was Peter having them. Tony devoured every sound, every breath, every tiny movement he made — realized and unrealized. Peter’s responses were dialed up to eleven. Then add at least double that because Tony was so hyper-focused on them.

When Peter was ready and not before… when it wasn’t just want but need, Tony slipped one hand behind the boy’s neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He lowered a little of his weight onto Peter’s body. Grounding him all along its length. Their kiss never truly broke. Only enough to take half a breath and then resume, it fell into a circular rhythm of a single, endless kiss. Until Tony felt the boy shiver and he noticed a change in the texture of his gasping breath.

Tony loosened his hand from Peter’s neck and broke their kiss entirely, separating, leaning back to look into the boy’s eyes. His cheeks were flushed, the delicate skin of his face a little irritated from the scrape of his beard, his lips strawberry red from his kiss. And Peter’s breaths were still too fast.

“Baby,” Tony whispered. “Right here baby. Shh. Look at me, Pete. I’m here.” He smiled softly as he felt Peter’s chest moving more steadily. “Beautiful.” Careful not to be too gentle and set off Peter’s senses so soon after he’d just brought them under control.

Peter whimpered, but he obeyed. Looking into Tony’s eyes, he sighed. This was better than he could have imagined. For so many months now Peter had missed the afterplay, that peaceful laying-beside-each-other and talking-all-night time that meant so much to him in the beginning.

Only now did he remember — foreplay was a wonderful thing, too.

Then Tony started talking and his whole body glowed.

“It’s all right, baby. I have you. You’re safe. You can let go and know that I’m going to catch you. Always, Pete. I won’t let you fall. Beautiful, you can let yourself feel all of it. I’ll hold you through it all. Through everything. You’re mine, Peter. That means I’m yours. Every night, but especially this night.”

Peter’s eyes fluttered shut. He moaned even as he smiled. This is what he had been asking for, what he had been daydreaming about. Tony always talked during sex, but this? This crooning, this gentling, this was a thing of beauty.

Tony ran his thumb across the boy’s smiling lips. “Has no one ever properly kissed you, Peter? No one but me?” He knew that Peter hadn’t had sex with anyone before him. But this? He hadn’t asked because Peter was so insistent on keeping up his ruse. “Are all your kisses mine, baby?”

Oh well, it had been lovely while it lasted.

Peter kept his eyes closed, so he didn’t roll them. But he couldn’t keep the perturbed look off his face.

He lifted his head and looked above them — okay that WAS the full-head-eye-roll but he tried to disguise it.

“Tony,” he said, looking at the vast expanse of the Alaska King they were laying on. “I don’t think this bed is big enough for you, me, and your ego.

“Of course I’ve been kissed before… hello? And for the record I am not a virgin, I just haven’t done… that… one thing before. With people. Toys don’t count. And if I’ve never been kissed like that before it was because I didn’t want to…”

He stopped short.

Of course he had never been kissed like that before! He had kissed boys before, but it had always been one quick step on the way to something entirely different. There wasn’t a single person on Earth, or on other planets, that he wanted to kiss for that long. So, really, Tony was right.

That bastard.

“You’ve been kissed…” Tony put a chaste kiss on Peter’s lips. “Like you kissed your girlfriend at a dance. You’ve been kissed…” He opened his mouth and did a poor example of the typical teenage moray eel kiss. “Like you kissed your first boy, too excited to even think about doing it right. You’ve been kissed…” He shoved his tongue into Peter’s mouth like boys do because they think that kissing is basically tongue fucking. “Like you kissed your first college boy at a party. You’ve been kissed…” That time he did a proper French kiss, not clumsy, but without finesse. “Like you were kissed by your first date who was a couple of years older than you.”

Tony cupped the back of Peter’s neck again, his fingers tangling into the soft curls at the nape. He brought their lips slowly together, repeating the way he kissed Peter earlier. Making Peter want. Letting Peter know how much he wanted as well. Holding it, repeating it, letting it build from kiss to passion to desperation. “Now, baby, you’ve been kissed.”

Peter turned his head to one side and tried to recover. Both his ability to speak, and his pride. Damn Tony, they were supposed to be recreating their first time together, the first night he had lost that particular v-card. Not to admit he had never been kissed like that before.

He pushed Tony away by a few inches to increase the space between them, breathing in what air he could find there.

It didn’t work. He just sighed in frustration (it came out more as a growl) and covered his face with his hands. He didn’t want Tony (who had done exactly as Peter had asked) to see his forehead crease, but it was creasing now. Dammit, he had asked for this! Had fantasized about it for ages! How could he not realize that now, in the moment, his ego would be getting in the way?

While Peter's face was covered, Tony smirked at the sound the kid made at having been proven wrong. Tony did have all of Peter's kisses.

Peter had moved them apart just enough for Tony to slide his hands along the hem of Peter’s shirt. His hands worked underneath the soft fabric. Palms flat, warm and firm, he moved them up, one along Peter’s back, the other caressing his stomach. As they rose, his forearms lifted the boy’s shirt. Tony pushed higher in the back, dragging Peter’s t-shirt up over his head, then down his arms and off.

Peter moved his hands away from his face to let Tony have his way (besides Tony was doing that thing to his stomach which certainly took his mind off anything else. It always made him melt when Tony touched him there — WAIT did he do that on purpose? That bastard.)

“Peter, you are beyond beautiful,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss from the crook of the boy’s neck, down his shoulder, onto his chest until he came to the center of it. “Look at you. You take my breath away.” Tony lifted Peter’s arms until they settled lightly around his neck. His hand trailed from his lips on the boy’s chest, down to the button of his jeans. “I need to see all of you. Every bit of you is perfect. And you’re giving all of you to me, aren’t you baby.”

Too breathless to speak, Peter only nodded in assent. His injured pride wasn’t hard to ignore if Tony kept talking like that.

[inakua]

Petey!

Request/Prompt: Peter is interrupted on a fieldtrip to Stark Towers, and some interesting revelations come to light.

Warnings: bullying   (I will always try and tag as many warnings as I can think of for each writing, if you read through and find something that I haven’t listed which may be a trigger for someone please send me an ask or message me so that I can add it to this list, thanks!)

Pairings: N/A

Fandom: mcu

Words: 1,416

A/N: This is just a little something that’s been niggling at my brain recently and I really needed to get it out! Please keep in mind that this is AU, it takes place after endgame, Tony is alive and well (as he should be). Peter had been adopted by the Starks after Aunt May died in a car accident.

REQUEST A ONESHOT

“PETEY!” 

Peter stopped in his tracks and waited for the inevitable, opening his arms, preparing himself for the impact. As expected a small blur of brunette rammed into him, squeezing tight as she jumped to wrap her arms around his neck, giggling when he lifted her and her feet left the floor. 

“Woah you almost knocked me over this time squirt,”

“I’ll try better next time,” came the cheeky reply he was expecting.

“Who’s that Penis? Your girlfriend?” Flash snickered, 

“Flash,” Peter hissed in warning, 

“Ewww, that’s icky.” 

“Yeah, it is, just ignore him squirt,” Peter replied, ruffling her hair as she wriggled free and glared at Flash, her arms crossed and hip cocked. Flash stood, his eyes darting round, uncomfortable at the glare this little girl was giving him.

“Will you stop looking at me like that,” 

Her glare only intensified, an eyebrow now raised as if to say ‘who do you think you are?’.

“Seriously stop! Who even are you?” Flash exclaimed, hands gesturing in annoyance.

“I’m Morgan Stark,”

“M - Mor - Morgan Stark?” Flash exclaimed, mouth agape as he looked between Morgan and Peter, “bu - but how do you know Penis Parker then?”

Morgans’ face scrunched into a ball, eyes narrowing as she practically screamed, “he’s my brother you stupid, and stop calling him names or I’ll tell daddy on you!” 

“B - Brother?”

“Morgan, I think it’s time we got you back to dad,” Peter whispered, grabbing her hand and trying to tug her away, desperate to escape the situation he’d just found himself in.

“No! I want daddy to tell him off!” Morgan cried, pointing her chubby index finger in Flashs’ face. 

Peter tried not to show how smug he was when Flashs’ face paled and eyes widened. He tried not to grin as Flashs’ mouth hang agape. He tried not to turn around when he noticed Flash wasn’t looking at Morgan anymore, he was looking at a point past his shoulder.

“Who do I need to tell off Princess? You let me know and I’ll sort it out.” 

Peter whipped round instantly, letting go of Morgans’ hand in the meantime, allowing her the chance to run past Peter. Before Peter could even comprehend what was going on, Morgan had wrapped herself around their dads legs and was pointing once again at Flash.

“He’s being mean to Petey!” 

“Dad, I - “ Peter stammered, unaware of his choice of words, too caught up in not wanting him to know about Flashs’ bullying.

“DAD?!” Flash shrieked, echoed by a smattering of mutters from his classmates in the background.

“You been bullying my son?” Tony asked, eyebrows raised as he ignored the motions Peter was making in his direction, trying to get him to stop. No way is he going to stand there while some stupid little twerp bullies his son.

“SON? I - I,” It seemed Flash could no longer take it, shock taking over his body as it flopped to the floor in a heap. 

“Oh dear, it would appear he’s fainted,” Tony remarked nonchalantly, staring down at Flash as he started to come around. “Emily, please get someone to escort him out of the building,”

“Of course Mr Stark,” replied the tour guide, instantly radioing security to come and take care of him. Nobody said a word as two security guards picked Flash up under his arms, carrying him to the elevator and out of Stark Industries, Mr Bell following behind.

Tony turned his attention to his daughter, still tucked around his legs, blowing raspberries and sticking her tongue out at Flash as he was escorted away. 

“Let’s leave Peter to enjoy his school trip princess, okay?” Tony chuckled, grinning as she skipped over to give Peter a brief hug.

“Okay daddy, let’s go,” Morgan replied, already pulling Tony towards the private elevator that only family and the avengers had access to.

“Have fun son,” Tony called, sending a wink in Peters direction as him and Morgan disappeared out of view, Morgan waving the whole way up.

“Daaad!” Peter whined before the elevator closed, rubbing his face in his hands as he turned to see his whole class, expect MJ and Ned, gaping at him. He was about to address the situation but was stopped by the barrage of questions suddenly thrown in his direction.

“Did that really happen?”

“Peter is Tony Stark really your dad?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Yes, yes and because it’s none of your business,” Peter ground out, overwhelmed by the amount of attention he was getting.

“That’s so cool!”

“Uhh, thanks?” He questioned, sure he was used to this type of attention and these comments while he was spiderman, but at the moment he was Peter Parker, and Peter Parker was not ‘cool’. In his opinion at least. “Mr Harrington?” 

“I - uh, yes Peter?” Mr Harrington replied, he himself rather shocked at the turn of events.

“Is it alright if I leave the trip early? Im sure my dad won’t mind and I live just a few floors up.” Peter rambled, not wanting to offend any of his classmates but really wanting to just get out of this situation. “I’m really not feeling like finishing, I know where and what everything is from this floor upwards, and I don’t want to answer anymore questions about my dad or about anything really. It’ totally okay if not, I just -”

“Of course Peter, just make sure Mr Star - uh, your dad, calls the school to let them know he ‘picked’ you up early,” Mr Harrington interrupted, allowing time for Peter to actually breath instead of rambling on.

“Thanks Mr Harrington,” sighing in relief Peter walked over to where MJ and Ned had been watching the scene go down and trying not to laugh.

“See you tomorrow Peter,” Ned chuckled, quickly initiating their secret handshake,

“Bye Ned,” Peter replied once they’d finished, before taking a step to the right and addressing MJ. “I’ll call you tonight, okay?” he whispered as he pulled her in for a hug and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, eliciting another gasp from his classmates.

“See ya loser,” MJ called, cheeks now a tint of red as she waved him up the elevator.

Peter could not believe what had just happened, he ran his hands through his hair, a frustrated groan bouncing off the glass walls of the elevator. He retracted his hands, swinging his bad higher up onto his shoulders, as the ding of the elevator sounded.

“How’d it go underoos?” was the first question he was assaulted with as he made his way out of the elevator and into the living room.

“Daad! Did that seriously just happen?” He moaned, flopping himself down on the couch next to his dad.

“Petey!”

“Hey squirt,” Peter sighed, grunting as she jumped onto the sofa next to him, snuggling into his side.

“Did you have fun with your friends?” She asked, peering up at him through her lashes.

“I - yeah,” He answered, not wanting to explain to her what had happened, or get into the fact that it was partially her fault. Not that he’d ever tell her or make her believe she was in the wrong.

“Everyone’s going to know I’m your son in a few hours, there’s no way Flash will keep his mouth shut.” Peter whispered, as he noticed Morgan snuggling closer, eyelids fluttering closed every so often.

“It’s about time, don’t you think Pete,” Tony replied, guiding Peters head onto his shoulder, knowing that it must have been a tiring day for him.

“Yeah - I just ..”

“I can get them all to sign disclosures,” Tony admitted, trying desperately to hide the pain in his eyes. Immediately Peter jerked his head off his dad's shoulder, looking him dead in the eyes.

“No, no! I - I didn’t mean it like that, I love being your son and being a part of this family, It’s just going to be a lot, ya know?” Peter didn’t want him to think for one second that he was ashamed of being a part of this family, in fact it was everything he could’ve dreamed of.

“I know Pete, I love being your dad too you know,” Tony murmured softly, guiding Peters head back onto his shoulder and wrapping an arm round both his children.

“Thanks, love you dad,” Peter mumbled, quickly losing his battle with sleep.

“Love you too underoos.” Tony whispered, drifting off into dreamland, the two most precious things in his world wrapped in his arms.