#the way pete grabs those men by the head... insane

[starscelly]

bench reaction to the win!

vgk@dal 05.05.24 | round 1 game 7

[farfromharry]

The one with the much needed bandaid | Peter’s Girl

Summary: You and Peter finally talk about what you saw the night of Liz’s party, and you become sort of his go to nurse

Word count - 2375

Warnings - mentions of injury, language? i can’t remember

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Peter had spent the entire weekend practically pulling his hair out over the whole thing with Y/N. He couldn’t believe he was so reckless that in the space of the same night he’d managed to one, accidentally reveal his identity to one of his best friends, two, scare away the bad guys by underestimating just how dangerous they were, and three, summon Mr Stark- well his suit and some kind of phone call, to save him from a lake after being dropped in by some weird bird man.

So you could say Peter’s last few days hadn’t been very enjoyable or realistic at all and it was driving him insane.

He was trying to fix things one by one, and he’d begun with apologising to Mr Stark for any inconvenience he caused. His mentor was quick to brush it off, telling him not to get too worked up about it, but warning him to leave the dangerous men to him and the people who were specially trained to deal with these kinds of things, not just some kid from Queens.

He didn’t know how much of that he would stick to, determined to catch these guys as quickly as possible if the avengers weren’t going to jump in, but he’d try and keep that quiet and unknown to Tony of course.

The next part of his plan was to find you on Monday morning, to at least try and explain what he was doing in Spiderman’s suit outside of Liz’s party, maybe tell a few white lies to get himself out of the web he’s caught himself in.

And his plan for the bad guys… well that was still in the works, but he was smart so he’d figure it out in his own time.

»»——⍟——««

You had received numerous texts and calls from Peter since the moment you woke up that morning, all of which had been ignored. You’d gathered he’d want to talk to you but you weren’t returning the sentiment, and you weren’t even sure why. Were you mad he didn’t tell you? Mad that he’d put himself in all that danger?

You didn’t know, but you did know that you were planning on avoiding him so you didn’t have to find out.

Peter had met up with Ned that morning like he did every morning. He was rambling on about some new star wars theory that the brunette would normally love to hear and give his opinion on, so the fact that Peter was ignoring him was strange.

“Are you okay? You seem a little on edge,” Ned pointed out. Peter turned to look at him with a small, unconvincing look.

“I just need to talk to Y/N.”

Ned rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what happened that night other than Peter had left him looking stupid at the party, prompting Flash to call the boy some names while he wasn’t there.

Seeing as Mj had stopped defending him and Ned wouldn’t get involved, the male was free to ridicule Peter for as long as he wished, making for a lot of weird stares in the school halls.

But back to the present, his best friend didn’t seem too happy that he was so obviously keeping things from him, because Peter Parker was a horrible liar.

When your eyes met Peter’s figure resting against your locker you quickly spun around and started heading in the opposite direction, even if you had no idea where you were planning on going. Your hair whipping around was what caught Peter’s attention from his peripheral vision.

“Gotta go,” he announced to Ned, heading off the way you left with a quick jog in his step. You could hear Peter calling your name louder the closer he got, prompting you to speed up.

You cursed quietly when you came to the end of the hallway, having to decide on the spot whether to go left to a crowd of rowdy students, or right to a dead end. People must have thought you both looked crazy, even though that was the only other conclusion you could come to about yourself after you saw Peter on the rooftop.

“Y/N!” Peter yelled, grabbing your wrist in a gentle but firm grip. You stared at him wide eyed, almost like you were afraid of him, and it was a look that Peter never wanted to see again.

He quickly looked around before tugging you through an open door that led you to an empty classroom.

He closed the door behind him, leaving you standing there watching him blankly. He took a few minutes to try and prepare what he was going to say, granted something he should’ve probably done before he pulled you into a room with him.

“I want to explain the other night,” he stated, meeting your eyes for the first time that day. Your expression stayed stoic, pursing your lips.

“You want to lie your way out of admitting you’re Spiderman?” you sassed. The male was slightly taken back at your bluntness.

“Yeah, I guess,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood slightly. You didn’t look impressed at all, and he sputtered out a few apologies.

“Okay yes, I am Spiderman-“ you interrupted him with a scoff, running your hands through your hair in frustration. “Please just hear me out, y/n/n.”

You huffed, folding your arms over your chest. Peter had to admit that without your usual happy mood, you were intimidating and he never knew you were even capable of that.

“Fine, go ahead.”

He took a deep breath. “You aren’t meant to know because- it-it’s dangerous Y/N.” Your heart fluttered slightly. “I didn’t tell anyone because I wanted you all to be safe, I don’t know what I’d do if I was the reason you got hurt.”

Your features noticeably softened. He stepped closer to you, taking your hands in his and running his thumb over the back of your skin.

“You can’t tell anyone, please.” His soft eyes met yours in a pleading look.

“Who else knows?” you asked.

“Ned,” he mumbled. “And Mr Stark, but that’s it.”

You perked up slightly, and Peter noticed.

“So, Mj doesn’t know?” He shook his head, murmuring something about how it probably wouldn’t take her long to figure out though. Sensing your happiness about his words, the boy assumed you were happy that you knew something that she didn’t, and he didn’t really understand why. But that wasn’t the case, you were just glad that it meant she was safe, what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right?

“Will you keep my secret?” he asked, staring at you with eyes that resembled those of a scared puppy. You sighed, flashing him a smile and nodding your head.

“Of course I will.” The tone of your voice suggested to Peter that you weren’t done and there was going to be some kind of condition here.

“But?” he prompted.

“But please be careful, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He grinned, pulling you into a tight hug. You tucked your head under his chin, inhaling his scent and being calmed by his presence.

Peter couldn’t wipe the smirk off of his face thinking about how you weren’t aware of his abilities, something he’d have to explain to you sometime. “You have so much to learn about me.”

»»——⍟——««

A soft tapping on your window was the last thing you expected to hear at almost midnight on a weekday. You raised your head from your pillow, squinting your eyes to try and make out what was on the other side of the glass.

You eventually had to turn on your light, startling when you noticed the shape of a person, more specifically a superhero.

You swung your legs over the side of your bed, hissing when your feet made contact with the cold floor, but you pushed that aside to go and open your window to invite Peter in.

He hastily pulled off his mask, revealing his ruffled hair and bloody face to you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, taking note of the streaks of red on the side of his face. He looked at you with tears in his eyes, stepping forward without a word to engulf you in a hug.

You were careful wrapping your arms around him, making sure you didn’t cause him anymore pain with your hand placement.

“What happened?”

He raised his head, pressing the spider symbol in the middle of his chest. His suit grew loose, making it easy for him to take off and leave on your bedroom floor.

Your eyes widened, staring at Peter’s body in shock. You knew when he explained the whole situation with the spider that he would have some muscle, but you were definitely not expecting that.

“Um,” you were more or less speechless, forgetting how to even form words while this gorgeous boy was standing in your room in nothing but underwear.

Peter obviously hadn’t thought it completely through, his eyes widening when he realised you were indeed staring at him half naked.

“Sorry, I-I-“ You shook your head, ignoring the definite blush on your cheeks as you guided him to your bathroom. You got the boy to sit down on the side of the tub, where he nervously played with his fingers.

“So, what happened?” you asked, setting your emergency first aid kit on the side. He blankly looked up to you, finally looking at you properly. Only now did he notice that you must have been trying to go to sleep.

You were in an old shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, your hair tied up in a messy ponytail without any makeup. Peter always thought you were pretty, and it seemed as though he was only now realising just how pretty you were.

“Pete?” you whispered, snapping him out of his daydream.

He apologised. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you could turn your head to the light.” He nodded, doing as you asked and bearing his wounded cheekbone to you. His fists clenched when he felt you touch the alcohol to his cheek, hearing a small apology after you heard his pained hiss.

He thought back to a couple minutes ago when you’d ask how this happened, mentally debating whether he should tell you or not. He came to the conclusion that if you were going to generously patch him up then the least he could do was tell you how he got himself in this state in the first place.

“There was some guys following this girl, trying to back her into an alley.” You paused your hand movements, looking into his soft honey eyes with a sympathetic smile. He took that as a sign to continue. “I couldn’t just let it happen, I thought about if that was you or Mj and ai just-“

Your heart almost burst with love for the boy, pressing a friendly kiss to the top of his head that had him blushing a deep scarlet in seconds.

“You did the right thing, even if you got a little hurt.”

He nodded, glad he was able to get your approval, especially after your one condition of not telling anyone was that he was as careful as he could be.

“Where else does it hurt?”

You helped clean Peter up as best as you could, the boy telling you that his quick healing should deal with the parts that you couldn’t, such as the bruised ribs.

“Let me just put a bandaid on and you’re good to go.” He rolled his eyes, trying to tell you that he didn’t need it. It was only a small cut on his bicep but you were insisting on covering it up. Peter watched as your eyes widened when you pulled the bandaids from the first aid kit.

“What is it?” he asked.

You nervously held them up, watching as his face twisted into one of amusement. He let out a loud laugh, quickly being scolded by you as you warned him that your parents were sleeping.

“Really, Y/N?” You blushed, looking down at the bandaid in your hand with a flood of embarrassment. The face of Iron Man stared back at you while Peter continued to giggle. You rolled your eyes, holding out his arm and sticking the bandaid over his cut anyway.

“I hope Mr Stark sees,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him like a child. “You’re all done.”

He thanked you quietly, heading back into your room while you tidied away the mess you’d made on the counter.

Only when you were done you headed back, planning on getting straight back into your bed as soon as Peter had left.

“Thank you for helping me.” You nodded your head, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom as you watched him slip his suit back on.

“Peter,” you whispered, catching his attention just before he left. He hummed quietly. “You know you can come here anytime you need help, right?”

You were being completely genuine, and Peter could see that in your eyes. He was incredibly grateful for you. He held out his hand to you so you’d come over, intertwining your fingers with his when you were close enough to reach.

On an instinct he dipped his head so he was able to kiss your cheek, refusing to meet your eyes as a cute blush spread across his face, the tips of his ears also tinting pink. If he’d have looked at you, you were sure he would’ve noticed he made you equally as hot and bothered, your heart racing so fast you were surprised he couldn’t hear it.

But he could, and it only made him more nervous that he’d just messed things up.

“I know.” He sent you a smile before shooting one of his webs towards a building in the close distance, slipping his mask on over his face and giving you a wave as a final farewell for the night. Thus began the routine of Spiderman showing up at your window every time he was injured and in need of a bandaid, or in some cases a little more than a bandaid.

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peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby @peterswebshooters @whoeveniskendall @itsallyscorner @hoodpankow

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Do You Even Think About It? 

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~8.8K Notes: Sam Smith is an absolute angel and I’ve been obsessively listening to their new album Love Goes. One of my favorites on the record is Kids Again, so I gave myself the opportunity to listen to it over and over again by writing a fic based on it. This is the product.  Warnings: There be angst ahead. Summary: 

Peter needs a job to help pay for graduate school, so MJ hooks him up at the breakfast for dinner restaurant she works at, Stevie's. It's not his dream job, but he likes the atmosphere and the cute sous chef who's chalk full of advice.

6 years later, Peter's mind is stuck on the young love he let go and the man who changed his world.

Or: A Starker love story told in flashback and set to a Sam Smith song.

Read on AO3 here.

November 2nd, 2020

Peter should’ve known the day would be an odd one when he heard Beyoncé’s Mine to start the day. Though his mind took many detours to the thought of Tony Stark, tangible things like their song made his heart ache just a little bit more than usual. It’d been years since he heard from him, and even after all that time, he still missed him – more than he usually cared to admit. Like it was six years prior, Peter sung along to the lyrics, the ghost of youth and Tony’s touch wrapping him up and surrounding him, dragging him under the weight of precious memories.

With Tony now on the forefront of his mind, Peter mindlessly went through his getting ready routine. His school had a pretty lenient dress code, so he slipped into straight-legged black trousers and a white button down, maroon cardigan combo. Topping off the outfit with all black Chuck Taylor’s, Peter made his way out to his kitchen to heat up the water for the French press that sat in a place of honor on the counter. Another Tony Stark influence, Peter realized as he portioned off his coffee serving and pressed down the pump, the delectable smell of freshly brewing caffeine bringing a soft smile to his face.

He didn’t do anything adventurous until he met Tony all those years ago – let alone make his coffee in a fancy French press. Tony’s love of food and fancy utensils to create and serve it rubbed off on him in a lot of ways, his brown eye’s catching the well-maintained cast-iron skillet sitting on the back burner of his stove. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter forced himself to see the remnants of Tony littered around his place. They lived so much life together in those short years together. It wasn’t surprising, now that he let himself think about it, how much Tony stilled ruled so many things about his life.

They changed the world together – Peter’s world specifically. It itched, how much he yearned to be that kid again; youth brought him happiness – the understanding of that now several years too late.

Forcing himself to get his shit together, Peter gathered his messenger bag and the lunch he packed the previous night before heading out of the house. He caught up on grading over the weekend, so a later than usual arrival wouldn’t be too debilitating. His mind was so caught up on other things, he marveled at the fact that he managed to get out the door at all. Sometimes, the feeling was so consuming – sometimes, he pushed through it and coped with their song on repeat his entire drive into work.

The day went by pretty easily, for the most part. Teaching advanced physics to high school aged students wasn’t too colossal of a task – he’d been working in the same classroom for the last six years; he could probably do half of his lesson plans with his hands tied behind his back. A majority of his students were those most would deem brainy, so there wasn’t much ruckus to deal with or discipline to dish out. Instead, he let his mind stray to Tony’s dark hair and the tan of his skin after a day spent down by the ocean. He stayed in the game just long enough to get through the day – then, Peter let his thoughts run away from him.

Before he knew it, he was behind the wheel of his car heading towards the east side of the city. Tony hadn’t lived there in years, but Peter did his best to avoid it, anyway. The corners of his mind that Tony occupied seemed like enough space to give him – visiting their old haunts felt like a step too far. Until now of course, his car idled by the all too familiar sidewalk, the blue door of Tony’s home still as bright as it looked back then. Whoever took over the lease there kept it up – they would’ve been insane not to after all of the work Tony put into it.

A weird yearning sat in the pit of his stomach. As a good looking soon to be 30-year-old, it should’ve been insane to be this wrapped up in the past and all the delectable memories it held. He wasn’t social awkward and had a good head on his shoulders – there’d been many men that tried to steal his attention, even. Yet, Peter invited the presence of those memories, instead. For every not so good thing that happened, there were 20 great adventures that took its place. Despite years of distance, Peter missed Tony – missed him and the person he let himself become under the radiant affection and liveliness that Tony brought to his life.

Peter tried not to think about the prospect of turning back time, but as he sat in front of Tony’s old place, he wished for just a few minutes of those old times – some of the best days of his life. What he wouldn’t give to be a kid again, sitting in the shining sun with the most radiant man he’d ever met, even now – even years later, Tony held that title so tightly, there wasn’t room for anyone else.

Shaking his head, Peter gave the blue door a longing look – if he didn’t force himself to leave in that moment, the strength would never come. His fingers gripped the wheel tightly, the tires grinding against the curb ever so slightly. He laughed at himself, the consistency of his driving habits making his chest feel warm. Even after all those years, he still misjudged the width of the curb. The thought gripped his heart tightly – there were so many things that hadn’t changed and so many things he wished didn’t all that time ago.

In his melancholy, Peter didn’t notice the front curtain twitch, or see the door open – a slightly older Tony Stark stepping out of it with confusion written all over his face.

The ride home consisted of a few tears and the stereo of his car scratching ever so slightly with the loud volume of the song he’d been listening to non-stop all day long. Peter stopped to grab a sub from his favorite pagoda in hopes of making himself feel better, then finished the trek back to his lonely apartment – the folding of his laundry the only thing for him to look forward to when he got there.

He got one of his feet out of the car before the vibration of his phone in the cupholder stopped him. Not recognizing the number off the bat, Peter let it ring, the buzz of it against his thigh as he slipped it into his pocket. Not thinking much about it, Peter got up into his apartment, dropping his sub and keys on the counter without much thought. Then, his phone vibrated again, this time, the three-pulse rhythm told him that whoever just called left him a voicemail.

Intrigued, Peter fished the phone from his pocket, his eyes bulging when he saw Siri’s suggestion of who it was (MAYBE: Tony Stark). Taking in a deep breath, Peter set the phone down, then immediately picked it back up – his brain was running haywire and standard operating procedures were not functioning at their usual capacity.

It was almost like the universe heard his call, or understood the pain he’d been in. Why, after 6 years of no talking, texting, or communication at all, did Tony reach out now? And if he listened to the message, what would come of it? Did he really have the strength to do the right thing here? Or the wrong thing for that matter?

Almost like he was working on autopilot, Peter let his thumb navigate the phone until he was a second away from listening to Tony’s voice for the first time in what felt like forever. Anticipation raced through him, his skin tingling with nerves and excitement that he couldn’t quite tamper down. Tony Stark, after so much time. Grinning, Peter let the rest of his resolve crumble, his finger pressing the play button before he could think too hard about the whole thing.

Hey Pete,

At least, I hope this is still Peter Parker’s number. I remember you saying you hadn’t changed your number since you were a teenager and am banking on that fact. I could’ve sworn I saw your old Honda out in front of the old apartment today. I’m back in New York, for good this time, and wanted to see you. I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough to stop you, but I thought I’d reach out. I’ve missed you.

Anyway – call me back. This is my new number, so you know where to reach me.

Peter spent the next five minutes listening to the message over and over again – the cadence of his voice hadn’t changed a single bit and the slightest hint of affection that sat there was unmistakable. Tony made it seem like no time at all had passed, like it was normal to call an ex up out of the blue, like it wouldn’t change Peter’s world to hear that he missed him – that after 6 years, Peter was still on Tony’s mind.

Clutching the phone to his chest, Peter took a few long deep breaths before making a decision. His mind would never leave him alone if he didn’t take the steps laid out in front of him – if he didn’t hit the call button and see where a conversation with the love of his life could take him.

There was a slight pause before the phone rang, then a click of the call being answered on the other side of the phone. Peter waited with bated breath as Tony settled onto the other side of the line, his inhale before saying anything more than enough for Peter to spring forward into the abyss.

“Hey, Tony – “

August 2012

Walking into Stevie’s, Peter didn’t know what to expect. Being a small-town kid, the big city still seemed impenetrable, despite living there for the entirety of his college education. Though, thinking about it, he supposed that he stayed in a pretty narrow bubble during his time in school. Getting into the master’s program, Peter knew he not only needed to branch out a bit more, but also needed to make some spare change to help pay for the next two years of classes.

Which is how he found himself standing outside the small restaurant, his first shift set to start in 10 minutes. With his apron in hand, Peter took a deep breath and pulled open the door. The smell of cinnamon and something on the savory side hit his nose as he stepped inside, his chest already loosening. Comforting scents always brought down his defenses – the 20 candles that riddled his little apartment spoke to that very fact. He liked to be wrapped up in familiar things, smells included.

Taking a few more steps into the restaurant, Peter brightened up even further when he saw MJ approaching him. They met during freshman philosophy, the two of them making fun of the professor before even exchanging names. With that sort of chemistry, their struck-up friendship didn’t surprise anyone. Her decision to stay in the city and continue her education played a huge part in Peter’s plans – Nebraska wasn’t calling him home, or anything, but he didn’t want to be lonely in the city – he got his fill of that feeling during the first few months of adjustment when he first arrived.

MJ getting the waitress job couldn’t have happened at a better time, either. Though he was smart (smart enough to graduate with a double major), scholarships were few and far between, so only half of his education was getting paid for by the school. Unlike his undergraduate experience, Peter knew he needed to work, both to make money and gain experience. Stevie’s wasn’t the classroom that he belonged in, but it was a step in the right direction.

“Peter Parker – am I glad to see you,” MJ said in the way of greeting, her cheeks pulling up in a slight smile. She was a tough, sort of grungy girl, but her affection for Peter shaded her actions towards him, giving her a softer edge where Peter was concerned. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and turned him towards what could only be the employee break room. “It’s kind of slow tonight, so you’ll have lots of time and space to learn everything you need to know.”

The slightest feeling of relief washed over him when they busted through the doors and only a couple of people were scattered around the room. On any part of the weekend, Stevie’s had a line out the door. There weren’t many breakfast for dinner joints in the city and the unique combination of sweet and savory of their menu brought people from all over the city to their little corner. Before applying, Peter battled with the anxiety of being around that many people – but the good money and ability to work with MJ overran the negative feelings he almost allowed himself to manifest.

After being introduced to the few people sitting around the break room, Peter clocked in and donned the traditional black apron that all of the servers were sporting. MJ took him around, showed him how the computer system worked, and let him shadow her during a couple of orders. When things started to pick up, she sent him off on his own – she had the utmost confidence in him and told him so many times throughout his brief training. He could handle thermodynamics like it was elementary math – serving people had to be a breeze.

Quickly, Peter realized that being a waiter took a lot more skills than he initially thought. Though the computer system was easy enough to navigate, remembering what went where and who ordered what took a few tables to get used to. He played musical plates a few times before getting the hang of labeling the people at the table and putting their order by said label. By the time Peter got within an hour of his shift being over, he finally felt like he could handle himself.

While in-between tables, MJ flagged him down – her hair was a mess and there were more than a few spills on her apron. “I’m swamped with this huge party that just sat down.” She looked over at the large table, her eyes focusing in on the unruly children climbing all over the chairs. “Could you take my other table? Their food should be up soon – it shouldn’t be too much work.” Without waiting for an answer, MJ turned back to the big party, her shoulders set in what Peter knew to be her determined stance.

Using the table planogram, Peter got the table number before heading to the kitchen to grab their food – their ticket number had just popped up on the screen outside of the window. Looking over the order one more time, Peter was surprised to see a tan hand reach out to tap his fingers that were just about to wrap around the edge of the first plate. “That’s a hot plate. You’ll want to cover your hand before you pick it up.”

Somewhat shocked at the timbre of the voice talking to him, Peter took a step back from the window, his hands flying up in surrender, like he’d actually touched fire, or something. Looking up, Peter forced himself to catch his breath. The older sous chef that stood in that spot for most of his shift was gone, only to be replaced with the most gorgeous human Peter could remember seeing. His lips were framed with a gorgeous, and well kept, goatee. Honey-golden eyes watched him with intrigue, and when their eyes met, Peter got to see the most glorious smile.

A soft blush overtook his face – Peter did his best to hide the rush of it and the smile that accompanied it. Ducking his head, Peter bit into his lip, his brain desperately trying to cling to whatever words he could remember in the heart racing moment. “Uh – thanks! I’m new, so I probably would’ve burnt off my skin if you didn’t step in.”

He ached to hold his hand out between them, to see if his skin was as warm as his eyes were. Yet, he understood how much he already made a fool of himself – Peter kept his hands down by his side with a sort of resolve that shouldn’t be necessary in a situation like this.

That rich voice sounded again, this time directed solely at Peter – the man’s attention on him explicitly. “I figured as much. I’m Tony – one of the sous chefs around here. You’ll learn pretty quickly what you can and can’t pick up. Just don’t drop shit and you’ll be okay.” His words were brief and somewhat cut off, but his eyes never left Peter’s – they seemed to burn into him with every second that passed.

“Good to know. Thanks again, Tony.”

Peter used the cloth napkin he tied to his apron earlier to grab the plate – the heat barely there through the fabric. He grabbed the other plate with his free hand and was about to turn away from the kitchen when Tony spoke again.

“What’s your name, new kid?” His eyebrows were raised when Peter turned to look at him, a smirk on his face.

“I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

Beaming, Peter turned away, his cheeks burning from excitement and a rush of heat that his short conversation with Tony brought about. He sucked in a couple of long breaths before approaching his new table, his smile now back to its normal range.

The rest of the night flew by, Peter getting lost in the last couple of tables that came in before closing time. Though, none of them ordered any food, so he didn’t have an excuse to head back to the kitchen. Despite that, Peter found himself turning towards the window he knew Tony would be standing behind, their eyes meeting every now and again. He counted himself lucky in those moments – for a few seconds, those golden eyes were stuck on him, looking at him.

After getting closed out for the night, Peter pocketed his tips, shed his apron, and stood outside the employee entrance for a few minutes, just soaking it all in. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be doing, but his time spent at Stevie’s would bring him one step closer to his ultimate goal, so it wouldn’t be too terrible. He made it out of the first day alive and even managed to impress both MJ and his boss. Sighing, Peter let his back rest against the wall, his tired eyes closing.

A heavy creek and the door opening brought him out of his silent reverie – he couldn’t recall how long he’d been standing there by the time he looked up. Much to his surprise, Mr. Brown Eyes himself stepped out, his long legs encased with a dark denim, his upper body still covered by the chef whites he’d been sporting earlier.

“Looks like you made it through the first night,” Tony said as nimble fingers worked at the buttons first at his collar, then down the length of his jacket. When the sides were pulled apart, Peter caught sight of a navy-blue V-neck shirt, the gap of it showing off just the right amount of dark chest hair to keep Peter’s eyes transfixed there. His breathing picked up, the same rush of heat from earlier trying to overtake him again.

“It wasn’t so bad. It seems like people are actually interested in the food we serve here, so they don’t really give much of a shit about me. As long as I don’t drop shit, I’m good.” Peter shot Tony a smile, the man’s own words sitting in the air between them. The tension in the air made his heart slam against his chest, Peter feeling slightly lightheaded in those seconds between speaking and Tony answering.

Instead of words, Peter was met with a solid laugh, the sound coming from Tony’s stomach and out of his mouth likely before he could stop it from happening. Peter watched a subtle blush bloom on Tony’s cheeks, his stubble not doing much in the way of hiding the red hue. If he wasn’t fucked before, he sure as hell was now.

“You’re a fast learner, aren’t you? I like that about you, Peter Parker.” Tony snuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground before looking up again, his eyes shining. “Want to grab a drink?”

November 3rd, 2020

Instead of the dreamy haze from the day before, Peter spent most of his day riddled with stomach-churning nerves. It seemed like a good idea, when Tony’s voice was in his ear and his presence could be felt, to meet up for coffee at their old haunt. After a day of thinking about Tony non-stop, Peter could do nothing but accept the invitation. It’d been years since he stepped foot in Stevie’s – if nothing else, the nostalgia of the trip would be worth it. Yet, Peter couldn’t stop himself from hoping – what he was hoping for, he wasn’t sure, but hope sat in the pit of his stomach, nonetheless. It made the time drag on, his lessons for once not up to his usual standards.

It must’ve been that type of day for everyone, because no one questioned or even batted an eye at his abnormal behavior. His students were a couple of weeks from Thanksgiving vacation and the will to pay attention was lacking in pretty much everyone. Grateful for that fact, Peter snuck out a few minutes before the end of the day bell. His planning for the next day was completed and there wasn’t anything else to hold his attention – he hoped no one noticed his early departure.

Though, the second he walked out of school, he was instantly at a loss. They weren’t meeting until after Tony’s shift (which just so happened to be at his very own restaurant, Peter Googled it earlier that morning). That meant he had more than an hour to kill and not a lot to distract him from what felt like a momentous meeting. There were so many things left unsaid between the two of them, so many memories that were so prominent – it was hard to separate the good from the bad – the forgettable, and those he didn’t ever want to forget.

For his own sanity, Peter put what happened between them before Tony left at the back of his mind. In the years since that day, Peter realized how childish his decision was – between not showing up and not thinking things through, there wasn’t much room for any other conclusion. The conscious thought of that didn’t take away the heartache he felt, however – Peter figured they both would be feeling a lot of that throughout the conversation they were about to have.

Left with the decision between fretting and heading back to his place for a quick spruce up, Peter drove the few miles between the school and the apartment he called home. He spent a lot of time in front of the mirror earlier that morning but knew a glance or two in his closet wouldn’t hurt the situation. He stripped out of his button up shirt and ran a washcloth across the skin of his upper arms, down across his chest, and along the length of his neck – it’d been unseasonably hot in his classroom.

Satisfied with his cleanliness, Peter walked into his meager closet, most of the clothes hanging in it ones that he purchased many years ago – there were lots of things in his life that felt like they were on pause, his wardrobe included. Sifting through them, Peter found himself smiling when he flipped by the hunter green Henley he squared away more than six years ago. The vivid way the color made Tony’s eyes stand out made his heart race – Peter still thought about those bourbon beauties on a pretty frequent basis.

Trying not to think too much of it, Peter pulled the shirt down from its hanger. Though some time past, Peter could swear the smell of Tony’s cologne still clung to the fabric. No matter how many times he ran it through the wash, the ghost of his former lover stuck around – the shirt like a tangible personification of Peter’s feelings over the years. Slipping it on felt like coming home in a way none of the other items in his closet could ever make him feel. That singular thought spoke volumes – though, Peter went out of his way to ignore the obvious. It was easier like that.

Finally satisfied with both his outfit and the time in which he had left to get to Stevie’s, Peter took a couple of deep breaths and one more quick glance in the mirror before heading back out to his car. The nerves from earlier seemed to be leveling out now that he took the time to pump himself up (being wrapped up in Tony’s shirt didn’t hurt, either). He made it through six years by himself, without the company of Tony – he could make it six more and then six more after that if things didn’t turn out the way he wanted them to after this little meeting.

With that in mind, Peter tried to decide what he actually wanted from his time with Tony – after all of these years, it seemed silly to walk into anything without at least thinking it through. More than anything, he wanted to step back into Tony’s arms like no time at all past; if they could pretend that the six years didn’t exist between then and now, he’d be perfectly alright with that. No matter how good of an idea Peter thought his decision was all that time ago, he knew that Tony, after being without him, brought something to his life that no one else could – he desperately tried to find it, but couldn’t, no matter how much effort he put in. It seemed a little outlandish, to think that their first interaction would be that magical, but he couldn’t stop himself from hoping – Peter always tried to be optimistic when the situation called for it (and this one totally did).

Despite not having visited his old stomping grounds in years, Peter’s mind remembered the way like he still travelled there on a daily basis – like the route was engrained in his brain so deeply, he couldn’t ever forget. Which made sense, after a bit of thought – some of the best memories of his youth were based around his time at Stevie’s and the people he met there. If he let himself think about it too hard, a wave of sadness would hit him; that was the opposite effect he wanted from this interaction – he wanted this blast from the past to be a happy one.

The buffer of time he originally had dwindled down to nothing as he found a meter to park in front of and fed it a few quarters. His steps were impatient as he made his way back towards the white bricked building, the flashing sign still bright and alluring.

Each second he crept a little closer to the door, his hard beat harder and harder. With just a couple more strides left until he reached the entrance, Peter looked up and his breath caught – through the window he saw Tony Stark sitting in “their” booth, his hair a little longer and his goatee just a little bit more refined, big framed glasses sitting on his nose the only noticeably new addition.

It felt like getting knocked off his feet, seeing him again. Peter stopped, just for a second – he took a long gulp of oxygen before even thinking about opening the door. Like most memories, they all came flashing back – the place, the man, even the recognizable step he almost tripped on time and time again – each one a trigger for every precious second spent in this very place.

Before he could get swept away, Peter tightened his resolve and gripped the door handle.

September 2013 – October 2014

Though Peter was determined to make the most of the situation when he first started at Stevie’s, he quickly came to realize that everything he needed in that moment existed within the orbit of that café. The year he worked there so far, Peter made more friends, learned more about people, and met (who he hoped to be) the love of his life. Each piece of the tiny little puzzle of the Stevie’s community fit so well within his life that Peter couldn’t remember ever being happier than he was.

On top of the amazing job and the people surrounding it, Peter was quickly making his way through his master’s degree – he wanted to teach people the same way his professors were relaying information to him and was only a couple steps from doing exactly that. All of the fretting and worry from the start of his program dissipated after a booming fall semester that led straight into a scholarship to cover the remaining tuition problems. Now, he felt no pressure when he walked into Stevie’s – the job wasn’t a burden, but something he thoroughly enjoyed every time he walked through the door.

Of course, one of the main reasons his time within the walls of the all-day breakfast spot remained some of his favorites was the lovely man that so quickly swept him off his feet. After that first night where they talked about anything and everything tucked away in the corner of some no-name pub, he and Tony were pretty inseparable. For a while, he thought that he might exist in the friend-zone – and some of the pieces of him would’ve been okay with that. Yet, when his back hit the wall of the alleyway where everything started and Tony’s lips descended upon his own, Peter didn’t stop himself from feeling elated and relieved; there were so many wants and needs that included Tony not being “just” his friend.

Like most relationships do, the two of them settled into a comfortable sort of adventure that was both consistent and completely random at any given time. They worked the same shift, so it was easy for them to pick one of their apartments after work and head that way together. No matter where they were, Peter ended most of his days tangled up with the sheet stealer that Tony was. They didn’t need any awkward conversations to know that whatever time they could spend together, they were going to. In the most natural way, things fell into place and made Peter deliriously happy.

It seemed like nothing could touch them, either. Being so young and in love, Peter thought he finally found a place where he belonged. After so much time being the weird nerdy kid, or the new boy, Peter got to claim a spot in a pack – one that was handpicked and made so much sense – the group of them were almost too similar and too close to one another. Or so the people on the outside said, anyway.

When the changes did start to happen, Peter tried not to let them blindside him. It started out simply – Fred, their menacing head chef, quit after a particularly hard shift; two of the newer waiters were fired on the spot after dropping countless orders. He stormed out in a huff; his only words being thrown Tony’s way as he handed over the coveted black chef jacket Peter knew his boyfriend wanted more than pretty much anything else in the world. The adjustment seemed pretty flawless – Tony picked up a couple more hours here and there, but still managed to make the trek home with Peter every time they shared a shift.

Then, things started to pick up in the restaurant because of the exciting changes Tony made to the menu. Stevie’s went from being a place only packed on the weekends, to being packed at every major service time. They were so popular in their little corner of NYC that local news crews came around to do spots on the newest menu additions and the chef behind them. Those few extra hours Tony picked up turned into many more than a few. Being the loving and proud boyfriend that he was, Peter did his best to be supportive and not balk at their time together that seemed to dwindle more and more as the days past.

Luckily, Peter found some reprieve from the nagging worry of his personal life during the last semester of his graduate program – his student teaching sent him into the wilderness of Midtown High, a school known for its advanced programs and science specification. At the beginning, it felt like a good coping mechanism – if he wasn’t at home waiting around, he didn’t have to feel the small slices of resentment starting to creep into the tiniest cracks in his heart. As things progressed, Peter caught the bug and decided that the childish things he wanted just months before were things of the past.

Despite this, Tony seemed to be just as committed to the them they created throughout their time together. In a lot of ways, both of their careers booming at the same time felt like a good thing. Both got to work where their hearts drew them, but at the end of the day, they came home to each other. From his actions, Peter knew that was enough for Tony. They weren’t staying up all night drinking and talking about whatever struck their fancy – but they were together, soaking up the joys of life with the one person that seemed to understand the drive and need for those successes and happiness.

Which is why, a couple of weeks after celebrating their two-year anniversary, Tony looked at him with the biggest smile on his face. In their time together, Peter learned the many facial expressions of his gorgeous other half. For someone so reserved with their emotions, Tony said a lot with the slightest twitch of the muscles in his face. It took Peter a second to steady himself – even after two years of being together, the genuine nature of the look still tried to knock him on his ass. Young love was sweet and soothing, but there was something to be said for the transition into something more concrete, more stable.

“That’s your excited smile. What’s up, Tones?” Peter questioned; his eyes wide with the residual excitement that seemed to be floating around the room. His chest felt a little tight with it, apprehension and secondhand adrenaline tapping against all of his major organs like shoes on hardwood.

“I got a call from Chef Barton – the world-renowned culinary instructor in Paris. He had a spot open up in his breakfast kitchen and wants me to take it.” Tony stopped then, taking an excited breath before continuing. “I want me to take it, too. And most importantly – I want you to come with me.”

His arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders then, the grip tight, Tony’s affection only increasing with the amount of excitement running through his veins. Being tucked into Tony’s chest gave Peter the opportunity to say nothing, which is exactly what he did. Instead, he forced his arms to wrap around Tony’s hips in hopes of returning the hug with at least half of the fervor Tony used to hold him. Peter tried to melt into the embrace – but his mind was racing. Paris? Now – when he finally felt like he was making the right steps towards actually being an adult? It seemed childish to just pick everything up and run across the country, no matter how much he loved Tony and the direction they were heading.

Keeping all of those thoughts to himself, Peter kept living his life with Tony – only ever getting quiet when they started to talk about their future plans – ones that, if Tony had his way, included the two of them skipping across the country, hand-in-hand, towards the unknown. Not wanting to deal with it head on, Peter avoided the topic, and everything that went with it, like the plague. He knew Tony could feel the hesitancy, but he never brought it up, so Peter didn’t either. Why disturb the peace when he could just ignore everything that would totally obliterate it?

Peter kept that attitude until the day before they were set to leave. Still on the fence about his decision, he half-heartedly packed a bag. In the weeks leading up to their departure, Tony sent most of his own stuff ahead to the small apartment waiting for them to arrive. In his infernal need to give Peter his space and independence, Tony figured Peter would get what he needed there some way or another. It didn’t even cross his mind, Peter figured, the thought that he wouldn’t be coming with him. The lack of communication and unwillingness to step on the fine sheen of ice between them hindering any sort of progress, or reassurance that they both needed.

Like most of his life, Peter listened to his brain instead of his heart – instead of meeting Tony at the airport, he holed himself away in MJ’s apartment, despite her own qualms against it, which she voiced loudly for most of the night as his phone rang with calls, and then chimed with text after text.

It was several hours after Peter knew Tony would be in the air that he finally let himself look at all the text messages sent his way. They ranged from distraught to upset to infuriated, and then resolved. There were so many of them to sort through, but the last one was the one to really catch his eye.

Tony Stark [8/13/2014 9:53PM]: It’s okay, Pete. I get it. Just let me know that you’re alright.

According to the timestamp, Tony sent that last one a couple minutes after their flight was supposed to take off. While in the air, putting distance between them after being ruthlessly stood up, Tony was still genuinely worried about his well-being. Piles of regret deposited themselves on the expanse of his chest – the repercussions of his decision hitting him with a fervor Peter didn’t know existed. He claimed to love Tony with all of his heart but let something like fear and a lack of communication strip that all away from him. Whatever happened, he needed to own it and deal with the fall out.

Peter Parker [8/14/2014 2:00AM]: I’m sorry – I’m okay, but I just couldn’t.

Surprisingly, Peter wasn’t bombarded with calls or texts the next day, or even the next. He figured that Tony would be calling like crazy the second he touched down in Paris – yet, Peter didn’t hear a thing. After looking at his quiet phone with distaste for two full weeks, Peter pulled up Tony’s contact information with the intention of calling him, instead. His thumb hovered over the call button more than a few times over the following few days, but no matter how much he wanted to, Peter couldn’t bring himself to do it. Like ripping a band aid, maybe the breaking would be quickest with one tough yank. From the lack of calls his way, Tony must’ve figured the same thing.

Tinged with unexplainable pain, Peter made his way through the next few days, and then the next few weeks – before he knew it, it was October. He finished up his degree during the summer and once he managed to pick himself up off the floor, applied to several of the local high schools. In a strike of luck, Midtown was so stoked about his performance during his internship, they offered him a job outright – without an interview or anything of the sort. In the matter of what felt like a second, Peter went from a loved individual with a spice for life to a high school teacher, who’s only joys came in the form of a new flavored coffee in the teacher’s lounge.

It worked. It gave him stability and adulthood. Happiness would come back – he hoped, anyway.

November 3rd, 2020

It was dizzying, having Tony’s attention focused on him again. The glasses were a welcome addition to Tony’s stupidly attractive face. They magnified the color of his eyes and gave off an air of maturity – though, the AC/DC shirt that clung to his chest counteracted that a little bit. Shrugging that thought off, Peter forced himself to forget about that debilitating mindset. It already cost him Tony once – the least he could do for himself was stop it from happening a second time.

When he first walked in, Peter was surprised to see that not a lot changed over the years – there were a few new art pieces on the wall, but the bare bones were the same. Even the menus Peter spent countless hours passing out and cleaning looked exactly the same. It felt like both a blessing and a curse, being in a place that seemed so familiar and yet entirely too foreign all at the same time. As he got further into the restaurant, Peter waited for the second that Tony caught sight of him – and was not disappointed a single bit. A reserved smile slipped across the other man’s face, the slightest bit of wrinkle by his eyes the only physical mark of their time spent apart.

Peter didn’t expect the hug that was placed upon him, but before he could even think about it, Tony’s arms were around him – his grip the same tightness he held Peter’s body with during their time together. It made his heart ache; how much he missed such a simple touch – and how easily he let go of it. Ignoring how pathetic he should’ve felt, Peter returned the embrace, his own arms tightening around Tony’s as if this were his only opportunity.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Peter heard Tony say, the whiskered lips mere millimeters from the shell of his ear as he did. “It’s good to see you, Pete.”

Unable to do anything else, Peter tucked his face a little further into Tony’s neck, his nostrils expanding with the long breath he pulled into his chest. Though the underlying smell of Dove for Men wasn’t there anymore, Peter could recognize that cologne anywhere. The olfactory association of the scent brought him to so many places all at once, each one reminding him of all the good memories and wasted time in between then and now.

“I missed you, too. I can’t believe you’re here. That you wanted to see me. Hell, that you look so damn good,” Peter said in reply as he finally tore himself away. His hands shifted to take hold of Tony’s biceps, his grip still firm, still clinging in a way that spoke of hope – hope that, when all was said and done, Tony wouldn’t walk away.

After getting his shit together, Peter took the seat next to Tony at the table – his chair a little closer than normal proximity usually called for. If Tony minded, he didn’t mention it; the man was so cool, he sipped at his warm coffee without a second of hesitation, despite the billowing steam rushing from the top.

Using the ruse of settling in, Peter took a minute to really take Tony in. His hands were still insanely sexy, fingers long and tan like the rest of him – his skin riddled with a few more nicks and cuts than before, but that was to be expected. His t-shirt fit him tightly, the sleeves highlighting the benefits of manual labor that running a kitchen called for. His coveted chef whites were hanging over the back of his chair, the crisp Stark’s on the right lapel bringing a smile to his face.

“You look amazing, Tony. Like time didn’t touch you at all.”

Tony turned towards him then, his fingers abandoning their hold on the coffee cup in front of him. “Nice of you to say. It feels like it has. Sometimes, it feels like 20 years past, instead of just 6.”

Reaching out, Peter let the tips of his fingers rest against the back of Tony’s hand, his pinky finger finding the same scar he obsessively touched whenever they held hands all that time ago. The caress pulled a shiver from them both, hazel met brown for a long second before Tony blinked and looked away.

“I thought it was just me that felt like that.”

Their conversations hit a pause after that, both of them soaking in the situation while the waitress came to take Peter’s order – his customary order of French toast and espresso rolling off his tongue before he even needed to think about it.

“It’s nice to know some things don’t ever change.” Tony looked at him, a hesitant smile on his face. “Do you still slather it in peanut butter?”

“Is it even French toast without it?”

The comment made Tony light up, his eyes twinkling with amusement, a laugh leaving his lips. “No, I guess it’s not.”

Laughter sat between them for a few minutes – their waitress came with food and coffee for Peter, her eyes lingering on them longer than necessary until her glance moved across the wall to where the old crew photos were hanging. “I knew I recognized you two. Stevie still talks about your crew like it hasn’t been years since you were last working here.” She gave them both a smile, left behind utensils, and turned away – a new sort of pep in her step.

“Do you even think about it?” Peter asked, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of the photos, like he didn’t just ask the most complex question to ever exist. “Those times, I mean.”

Tony took another long pull of his coffee before answering, the seconds between his lips wrapping around the cup and his eyes meeting Peter’s feeling like days. He caught himself holding his breath, his subconscious tensing up for whatever blow that might come his way.

“Every day.” Tony finally answered, his tone of voice serious, the look he gave Peter whimsical. “I can’t remember a time in the last 6 years when I wasn’t thinking about this place, this city – you.”

Like magnets, their hands were drawn together – Tony let the back of his rest against the table, Peter slipping his own against it so they were palm to palm, fingers interlaced.

“Tell me how you lived without it. Did somebody change your world?”

Tony looked at him then, his eyes wide with questions, with the need to have answers to them without having to voice them, or even put them into the universe to be heard. His fingers tightened around Peter’s; their palms now pressed fully together. The contact was almost too much for the moment, their closeness on the border of being suffocating when that sort of demand sat on the table.

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter squared his shoulders, his own fingers gripping Tony’s in a small attempt at reassurance. “It was never anything like that. Someone or something else. When you told me about Paris, all I could hear was my aunt’s voice telling me that I wasn’t going to be a kid forever. That one day I’d need to grow up and, in that moment, it was too loud – too loud to ignore or fight against. I didn’t see past anything after that.”

“But didn’t that make you sad? Thinking that we’ll never be kids again? Letting something like that make all of your decisions?” Tony tilted his head to the side, eyes not leaving Peter’s for a second.

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed, the words shooting from his mouth. “I came to realize, not long after I let you go, that growing up didn’t change who I was, or what I wanted. Being with you, the feeling of child-like wonder would never go away. We were moving towards what I wanted without me even realizing it. That’s the thing that made me sad the most – knowing how silly I’d been, thinking I’d want anything other than that feeling of never coming down.”

By the time he finished talking, there were tears in his eyes – the big drops there threatening to fall with every blink. He felt warm everywhere, like if he let go of anything – Tony’s hand, the way he felt, the pent-up guilt residing within him – he just might explode.

Knowing him as well as he did, even after years of distance between them, Tony pushed his chair away from the table and closed the space between them, his arms wrapping around Peter in a bone crushing hug. The time between their past and their present narrowing down to nothing with their embrace.

“It’s okay, Pete. I got it then and I get it now. I thought about you every day, not because I was mad or hurt, but because I knew – even with so much time and space between us – that you were worth every moment, every thought, every second of pining I couldn’t stop myself from doing. Paris was great – but it wasn’t where I needed to be. No matter how hard I tried to make it home.”

Each word drove him a little closer to the edge and when Tony’s warmth finally seeped deep into his core, Peter was unable to hold himself together. Tears streamed down his face, each one trekking to his chin, only to fall down the length of his neck to stain the collar of his shirt. He clung to Tony with all that he was worth – his perception of the restaurant around him narrowing down to nothing but their booth, their connection, their skin brushing in the most intimate of ways.

When there weren’t any more tears left to cry, Peter shifted slightly, his nose brushing against Tony’s cheek with the movement. Instead of shying away like he had every right to do, Tony leaned into the caress – his cheek warm to the touch. “It’s okay, Pete. It’s okay. I missed you, too.”

There wasn’t much productivity after that. Peter pulled away completely, only to remember that he was in a public place and just had a very real, very vulnerable melt down in front of a lot of random people. His cheeks colored for a moment, but Tony was there to sooth him, his work roughened hand grasping Peter’s without hesitation. They shared a tentative smile – the light in Tony’s eyes something Peter wasn’t sure he remembered being so goddamn vivid.

They finished up pretty quickly, Peter’s embarrassment still sitting in the forefront of his mind, despite the quiet support from Tony’s presence. He laid a couple of twenties on the table, waving Tony away when he tried to add his own money.

“I cried on your shoulder – let me buy you some breakfast.”

With a laugh, Tony nodded and walked towards the door, his eyes tracking Peter’s movement as he got himself together once more – it was almost like Tony was afraid he’d disappear if he looked away, even for a second.

Out on the sidewalk, Peter started walking towards his car when Tony’s arm shot out, his fingers gripping firm biceps. “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you. I can’t go another six years.” As he spoke, Tony loosened his fingers, letting his hand rest on Peter’s hip, instead. “Please tell me I can see you again.”

Despite his hopes and the smallest bit of expectation Peter couldn’t help himself from feeling, he wasn’t expecting anything like this – an invitation for something further. Turning until he could wrap his arms around Tony’s shoulders, Peter leaned in until their foreheads were resting against each other’s, breaths shared between them. He felt Tony’s nose brush against his before their lips met in the smallest hint of a kiss -

“Any time you want, Tony. I’m not going anywhere. Never, ever, ever again.”

[peterspideyy]

chapter 11 | never look back

series masterlist 

previous chapter ~ next chapter  

————

“i suggest that you talk, you son of a bitch!” jorge shouted, punching the man from earlier in the face, who was bruised and bloody. you gasped, only just walking into the room with peter. he squeezed your hand, walking you both over to newt who smiled at you, giving you a side hug.

“never go off again.” newt mumbled, making you nod.

“i’ve already had him tell me that.” you chuckled, pointing at peter who laughed as well.

you looked at thomas, noticing he was only just getting up as well. he grinned at you slightly, walking over to where the man was grunting.

“i’m sorry, you’re going to have to leave my house.” he replied.

“listen, i don’t enjoy hurting you. okay? where is the right arm, marcus?”

you froze, “this is marcus?”

he laughed, “the kid catches on quick. are you the brains of the operation?”

he was interrupted by jorge, pulling his head back by his hair, “i know you know where they’re hiding. so you tell me, and i’ll make you a deal. you can come with us.”

“i burned that bridge a long time ago,” he laughed, shaking his head, “besides, i made my own deal. you’re the one who taught me, never miss an opportunity.”

“what’s he taking about?” newt questioned, titling his head.

“i’m talking about supply and demand. wicked wants all the immunes they can get. i help provide that for them. so i lure the kids in, they get drunk, they have a good time. and then, later, wicked comes in...they separate the wheat from the chaff.”

you looked down.

“i changed my mind, hermano. i do enjoy hurting you.” he smiled, before kicking his chair, causing marcus to fly back and hit the ground. jorge took his gun out, making you all stand up, before he walked over to him, and placed it underneath marcus’ chin.

“talk!”

“okay! jesus! but i’m not making any promises. these guys like the move around.”

he was lifted up by jorge and fry, causing him to breath out heavily.

“they have an outpost in the mountains. but, it’s a long way away. you got half of wicked on your ass. you’re never gonna make it.” he laughed.

jorge smiled, “not on foot. where’s bertha?”

you looked at peter. who was bertha?

“not bertha.” he cried.

————

stepping out of the car, with peter following behind, you outstretched your arms. there was not enough room in there, never mind for ten people. you basically had to sit on peter’s lap.

“well,” jorge began, “i guess we’re on foot.”

you looked in-front, at the numerous of run-down cars blocking the road. looking at each other, you all started walking in between the vehicles. peter intertwined your fingers again with his, smiling at you before you looked around. peter looked in a car window, moving out the way for you to look before you glanced at him. it was empty. where was everyone? you saw what looked like a bullet hole in the wind-screen, making you start to trace it with your free hand.

suddenly, a gun shot echoed around you all, causing peter to grab you by the waist; pull you down to where newt and minho were crouching, behind a car.

“get down!”

“take cover!”

“hey, is everyone okay out there?” you heard your brother shout from a far, who you could imagine was hiding behind a car as well.

“we’re fine.” you replied.

“anyone know where those bloody shots came from?” newt shouted.

you stood up slowly, trying to see if you can see the shooters, put peter pulled you down, shaking his head slighlty. more gun shots were fired, making you jump.

“everybody! get set to sprint back to the truck and hold your ears!” jorge ordered, making you all stand up, ready to run.

“drop it. now!” you heard a woman’s voice shout, making you furrow your brows in confusion, “i said, drop it!”

“on your feet, let’s go!” she spoke, as you saw thomas and jorge stand up arms in the air. as the sight of two girls, around your age, with masks across their mouths and rifles in their hands, you let go of peter’s grasp, immediately putting your hands up.

“you four, over here now!” she ordered, pointing the rifle at you. you, peter, newt and minho, stood up, walking over to them slowly.

one of the girls hesitated, lowering her gun, “aris?”

your eyes went wide, as you all looked at the boy. she lowered her mask, making aris’s face drop in shock, “oh my god. harriet?”

“my god,” harriet walked over to him, hugging him tightly, “what the hell are you doing here?”

the other girl lowered her mask, hugging him tightly as well.

“sonya.” aris breathed out.

“aris, you’re lucky we didn’t shoot your dumb ass.”

you glanced at peter, newt and minho, confusion in your faces.

“how?” he asked.

“um, what’s happening?” minho interrupted.

“we were in the maze together.” he smiled.

harriet walked away slightly, whistling loudly, “we’re clear, guys! come on out!”

insanely, people in the cliffs stood up from behind rocks, shouting ‘clear’, as you all looked up in surprise. lowering your hands, you looked back at aris and sonya who were hugging again, as you smiled slightly. you jumped, as you felt peter kiss your forehead gently, before leaning back, a slight blush painting his cheek. you grinned wide at him, before they took you through the tunnels.

“back it up, joe!” sonya ordered, causing joe to reverse his truck out of the way, so you could all walk through.

“we’re taking them to base.” harriet spoke to one of the men, who nodded.

“wait, so, how did you guys get here?” aris questioned.

“the right arm got us out.” she replied.

“wait, wait, the right arm? do you know where they are?” thomas asked.

she smiled, opening the car door, “hope in.”

————

climbing out off the car, you all stood, frozen in place as you looked at the right arm. you did it. you made it. intertwining your fingers with peter’s again, you all followed harriet and sonya through the camp.

“they’ve been planning this for over a year now. this is all for us.” harriet smiled, turning back to look at you all.

“you guys are lucky you found us when you did. we’re moving out at first light. where’s vince?” sonya asked a man.

he pointed to the left, “somewhere over there, i think.”

“who’s vince?” thomas inquired.

“he’s the one who decides if you get to stay.” harriet answered. you glanced at peter. what happens if you can’t stay?

“i thought the right arm was supposed to be an army.” minho commented.

“we were,” a man spoke, walking to you all, “this is all that’s left of us. lot of good people died getting us this far. who are they?” he asked harriet.

“they’re immunes. caught ‘em coming up the mountain.”

“did you check ‘em?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

“i know this guy, aris. i trust him.”

he shook his head, “well, i don’t. check ‘em.”

you looked at brenda quickly, noticing how the colour in her skin was going pale, as her breathing was becoming ragged. suddenly, she fell forward, hitting the ground, as jorge rushed to her side.

“brenda! brenda!” he panicked, picking her up, and cradling her in his arms, while she was gasping frantically. you looked at thomas, who was looking down, and you could see guilt eating him away as he watched jorge shake her.

“what’s going on with her?” vince asked, crouching down by him.

“i don’t know. brenda, are you all right?” jorge begged. you saw vince look at her leg, rolling her bandage down, to reveal the crank bite.

“oh shit,” he mumbled, pulling his gun out; aiming it at her, “crank! we got a crank!”

you left peter’s grasp immediately, ignoring him calling you back, before you stood infront of her and holding your hands up, as thomas rushed, shouting ‘no’ at him.

“listen, okay? this just happened, okay? she’s not dangerous yet.” you spoke, trying to calm him down.

“you shouldn’t have brought her here!” he shouted, making thomas push you behind him.

“i know.” you mumbled.

“we let cranks in here now, the safe haven doesn’t last a week! step back!” he ordered, pushing you and thomas back.

“i understand, okay? just listen. please, okay? i told her that you could help. there’s gotta be something you can do.” thomas begged.

vince nodded, “yeah, there is. i can put her out of her misery.”

he clocked his gun, aiming it at her head, ignoring jorge’s calls of disagreement.

“vince, that’s enough. let him go.” a woman spoke, walking towards you all.

“she’s infected, doc. there’s nothing we can do for her.”

she smiled, looking at thomas, “no, but he can. hello, thomas.”

you looked at thomas, eyes wide. how did he know her?

“what?” vince inquired, looking at her.

“you know me?” thomas whispered.

“interesting. it makes sense they’d put you in the maze. though i must admit,” she spoke, kneeling down to check on brenda, “i was worried they’d kill you after what you did.”

“what i did?” thomas stammered.

“the first time we spoke, you said you couldn’t take it anymore, watching your friends die, one by one. watching your sister die,” she stopped, smiling at you, “hello, y/n.”

you were taken aback, mouth opening to speak, but nothing came out, as you closed your mouth again. glancing at the others, they were starring at you eyes wide. oh. you forgot to tell them about that.

“the last time we spoke,” she carried on, “you gave me the coordinates of every wicked compound, trial and lab.”

“he was our source.” vince whispered.

“we couldn’t have pulled all this off without him,” she nodded, before looking down, “take her to the tent. get these guys some warm clothes.”

she started to pick brenda up, with the help of jorge and other men, before carrying her to the tent, where she was hopefully going to get better.

“thomas, come on,” she smiled, walking away with him, “i need to get some blood from you.”

————

“so,” minho began, looking at you, “you and thomas, huh?”

you nodded, “wckd gave me my memories back. i remember thomas being my brother.”

“and you didn’t tell us?” newt asked, chuckling slightly.

“well, i told pete.” you replied, pointing at the brown haired boy who was sat by you. he laughed, shaking his head, before leaning in to kiss your cheek quickly, leaning back, as you placed your head on his shoulder.

“well, that’s something you don’t see everyday.” fry mumbled, before you looked up from your’s and peter’s hands, to see everyone’s stunned expression.

“when did this happen, then? thought you both were still bloody scared to not do a shucking thing about it.” newt commented, making you roll your eyes.

“only happened recently.” peter smiled.

“about time.” minho replied, leaning back against the rock.

you furrowed your brows, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you two were so in love with each other, that everyone knew. expect ,well, you two.” minho pointed.

“well, i’m happy for you both.” newt smiled, making everyone else nod in agreement. thomas came a couple of seconds later, sitting opposite newt, as you all looked out on the right arm.

“i wish alby could’ve seen all this.” newt mumbled.

“and winston.” fry carried on.

“and chuck.” thomas whispered, looking at the object he gave him. you looked at him, smiling sadly at him.

“he’ll be proud of you, you know, tommy.” you spoke, making him look at you; nod.

“hey aris!” fry called out.

aris looked at you all from below, waving, “hey, guys!”

“i kinda like that kid.” fry smiled, looking at you all.

“yeah. i still don’t trust him, though.” minho spoke, making you all chuckle slightly. insantly, a shiver rushed through your body, going unnoticed by peter.

“hey, you cold?” he whispered, softly.

“no.”

“liar,” he grinned, taking his jacket off, and placing it around your figure, making you feel warm suddenly. you looked up at him, kissing his nose, making him blush.

thomas watched you both, smiling at his sister and best-friend, before his face fell, “hey, where’s teresa?”

“she went up there.” newt answered, pointing at her on a mountain, not far from where you were. he got up, excusing himself, before heading towards her.

“yep, definitely something going on.” fry mumbled once thomas left.

“do you think this is it?” peter asked suddenly, taking you by surprise. everyone looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “do you think this is the end of…everything? wckd? cranks?”

you looked down.

“i’m not sure. but, i hope it is,” newt replied, “i hope we never see wckd again.”

you nodded, “as long as we’re altogether. we’ll be fine.”

peter nodded, placing his head on top of yours, as you all fell into a comfortable silence. laughter and chatter was all you could here, as you watched the night time of the right arm, unfold. but, you kept hearing a slight racket. from a distance.

turning behind, you squinted your eyes to the mountains, to try; see what the noise was. eventually, believing it was your brain playing tricks, you turned back around, but froze, suddenly. lights caught your attention, as you sat up quickly, catching the awareness of the others.

“what’s up, love?” peter asked softly.

“oh my god.” you whispered, shaking your head in disbelief.

it was wckd. they found the right arm. they found you.

————

a/n- thanks for reading chapter 11! there’s only one more chapter left of the scorch trials, and then it’s the last book! i can’t belive how quick this is going. i’ve loved writing this, and i hope you have all loved reading it :)

————

taglist-

@dreamofaprilsblog @parkersbliss @missmulti @rubberducky-jrr @serasara809 @parkersdarling @euphoniumpets​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @parkeret @juliebean247 @used-avocado​ @justahockeylover @jjmaybankswif @annoylinglyaries @24kbucky @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @agent-curt-mega @5sosupernatural

[as-clear-as-crystal]

If I Couldn’t Find You (Prompt Fill)

Good morning! @theoceanismyinkwell This is to fulfill the prompt you gave me a couple months ago from the whump prompts list: "“I’m not hurt.” “You are actively bleeding.” “Oh, so I am.”

I was so happy to get a prompt; and I'm sorry it took so long to write. But! I had so much fun writing this story. It was longer than I first planned it, but I'm kind of a more is more type of person when it comes to fic. 😅

Anyway, thanks for the prompt, and I hope you enjoy! To read on AO3, click this link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898108 

Or, click to read more...

If I Couldn’t Find You

Tony was in a great mood. He’d spent the previous evening with Pepper, and his morning with Rhodey over brunch. The two friends were just stepping out of Rhodey’s favorite cafe in Manhattan when Tony got a call. He frowned when he saw the picture that flashed on his phone, swiping his screen immediately and putting it to his ear.

Rhodey raised an eyebrow, “Who’s that?”

Tony glanced at Rhodey, “It’s Peter’s friend... Leeds, you and Pete are supposed to be at a museum; please tell me you haven’t gotten yourselves in trouble.”

“Oh. Uh. Sorry, Mr. Stark, sir, but I think Peter might be… We were outside waiting to be let into the museum this morning, and he heard something bad going down a couple blocks away. Said it sounded like a robbery? He hated just standing there listening, so he snuck off to check it out, but he’s still not back, and that was two hours ago, sir, and I’m really worried. I’ve got a bad feeling; he’s got his phone turned off. I don’t know what to do, I’m so sorry, sir...”

Tony felt like he’d been doused with ice water. Rhodey edged closer to him, eyes narrowing in concern. Tony’s mind was racing with possibilities, but he had a procedure for situations like this.

First, track the kid.

“Friday, track Peter’s suit and phone. Pull up the location when you have it.” Tony said without preamble, praying that the phone and suit and his kid were all in the same actual location. “Leeds, you did the right thing by calling me.”

“Can you… tell him to call me when you find him? Please.” Ned sounded distressed.

“Yep, that’ll be on my list of things to tell him. Catch you later, kid.” Tony hung up as Friday pinged the locations for the suit and phone.

Locations, plural. The suit being in an alley a couple blocks from the museum where Peter’s class was meant to be that day, and the phone being forty miles north of that, in some abandoned packing-house, and Tony felt like he might vomit. Instead, he tapped his chest.

“Honey Bear, I need your help,” Tony’s pleading eyes turned to Rhodey’s, just before his suit formed around him, closing him off.

**********************************************************************************************

Tony was preparing his descent on the packing house when Rhodey called him.

“I’ve got his backpack, and his suit’s here, Tones,” Rhodey reported. “But, it sounds like Pete got himself in trouble. I spoke to a couple shop owners, they said the cops were here earlier responding to an anonymous call.”

“That was Peter,” Tony informed him, “Friday told me he’d made a call, before his phone was turned off.”

“Well, the shop owner said he was being held at gunpoint - and a teenager came in to say the cops were on their way; tried to talk the gunmen into leaving. They did, but they made the kid go with them.”

“Why the hell wasn’t he in his suit?” Tony would be pulling his hair out if he could. Why did his kid insist on doing stupid shit like this? Tony was going to ground him until he was forty. Fifty. He was going to implant a tracker in his -

“The suit notifies you when he wears it. Maybe he didn’t want you to know he’d ditched his class field trip,” Rhodey suggested.

“Well, surprise. I now know. Million dollar suit and he leaves it in his backpack. I swear to God, Rhodes, I’m gonna...” Tony took a deep breath, “Can you just… I’m gonna have Happy pick you up, and meet me at this location? What else did you find out?”

“No problem; I got your back on this,” Rhodey told him. “All I know is the cops are on the lookout for an unmarked white sedan. Surveillance cameras were unable to make out the license plate, and as you can imagine thousands of cars match that description…”

“I think I found it,” Tony told him as he approached a building. A dirty white car was sloppily parked near the side entrance.

“Don’t kill anyone,” Rhodey ordered.

“No promises.”

Tony eschewed all subtlety in favor of blasting his way inside. Friday’s sensors indicated four adult males, and zero teenage idiots, inside. But the kid’s phone was there, and those men were his only lead. They started shooting first, but of course the bullets ricocheted off his suit. He registered a lot of yelling, but that didn’t matter. He blasted two of them before grabbing the nearest asshole by the collar.

“Listen, Dipshit, you have ten seconds to tell me what you did with the kid you kidnapped this morning.”

“Whoa - what kid? - Shit! Hey!” Tony lifted the man up so his feet could barely tap the floor.

“Wanna try that again, Jackass? Because if he’s disappeared, then so do you -”

“No, wait, we didn’t do anything, that kid was crazy!” The man tried fruitlessly to loosen Tony’s grip.

“The hell are you talking about? Where is he?” Tony demanded. He didn’t appreciate man’s use of the word was. “Two seconds, and I’m gonna rip off an arm.”

“You’re insane! Put me down!”

“One,” Tony snarled.

“He jumped out of the car!” The man was practically crying at that point; probably recognizing how close Tony actually was to making very good on his threats. “We were going over a bridge and he- he just jumped out! We- we- you gotta believe me, we didn’t even touch him!”

Tony took a second to breathe. Peter was Spiderman. Peter could feasibly jump out of a moving vehicle and onto a bridge and still be ok. His kid could do that. In fact, maybe it was his best option to escape these assholes. Peter would be fine. Except, if he was fine, then where was he? Why hadn’t he called anyone? He had to know by now that at least Ned would be freaking out. Peter wasn’t the kind of kid to just make his loved ones worry like that. Uncertainty was gripping Tony’s lungs like a vice.

One thing Tony did know for sure was he didn’t feel any sympathy for the man crying in his vice grip. Peter wouldn’t have been jumping out of cars at all if he hadn’t been forced into one at gunpoint.

He pulled the man’s face close to his mask. “Where?”

“Wh-where?”

“Where were you. When the kid. Jumped out. Of the goddamn car?!”

Sobbing, the man finally gave Tony an actual location, and he wasted no time incapacitating the crook, asking Friday to contact local law enforcement as he grabbed Peter’s phone from one of their pockets. Then, he was shooting like a rocket towards the kid’s last known location.

********************************************************************************************

Tony called Rhodey in-flight.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Tones, the kid’s strong.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know he is. Just, get here soon as you can. Please.”

Tony slowed down when he approached the offending bridge. It was short, spanning over a lazy, shallow portion of a river. There was a decent amount of traffic, but it wasn’t too bad. He had Friday scanning the area as he dipped under the bridge.

Nothing. There was nothing.

Considering it had been probably approaching two hours since Peter had escaped the moving car, Tony shouldn’t have expected the kid to still be there. But, then where the hell was he? Tony flew along the bank. There was a golf course on one side and a strip mall on the other. Had Peter fallen in the river? Hit his head and drowned?

No, no, no, no. Come on Parker, I need a clue, here.

He had another minute of freaking-out searching, before a new call was being pushed through. Given Tony’s calls were all filtered by Friday, he accepted it with a guarded hopefulness.

“This is Stark.”

“H-hey, Mr. Stark! Uh, so a crazy thing happened, today. Um, please don’t freak out - ”

Tony sucked in a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding. He’d been sick over the possibility of never hearing that voice again.

Thank God. Thank God.

“Pete?! Where the hell are you? Are you hurt? Friday, track this call - take me there now. And, please get Rhodes and Happy the new coordinates... Kid? Hey, I need you to answer me, Pete. Are you hurt?”

“Oh. Ok, this is not, uh, not freaking out.”

“Parker, are you hurt?”

“NO! I’m fine, Mr. Stark, I swear, it’s - OH, God, did Ned already tell you what happened?” Peter groaned miserably. “He did, didn't he?”

Tony loved this kid so much, and he was going to kill him.

“Tell me what? That you ditched school to interrupt a robbery, without the suit that I so lovingly crafted for you - to keep you safe - and that you were abducted at gunpoint and taken out of the damn city?”

“Oh, yeah, well that’s a lot more detail than I expected Ned to know about…”

“Rhodey, Happy and I have been searching for you since Ned called me an hour ago, which was apparently two hours after he’d last seen you. I just threatened to rip the arms off of someone, because I couldn’t find you, Peter! What the hell would I do if I couldn’t find you?”

“God, Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry…” Peter sounded like he might be very close to tears, and Tony shut his mouth, clenched his fists, counted to ten… He saw Friday guiding his suit to the call’s location. It looked like some old payphone at a service station on the other side of the golf course.

“I really would’ve called sooner, Mr. Stark,” Peter was saying, “but they had my phone, and everyone I approached acted like I was gonna attack them or something, they yelled at me and some of them threatened to call the police, and I didn’t know if they’d believe me if I told them I’d just been abducted, so I hid and looked for some spare change in the golf course, and then I found this really old fashioned pay phone...”

“Ok, listen Pete, it’s ok, just breathe.” Tony was going to wrap this kid in bubble wrap. He was going to put a tracker in his watch, and in his shoes, and...

“So, can you please maybe send Happy to come get me, sir, because I don’t even have my wallet so I can’t get on the bus, and May will actually murder me if she finds out that I ditched my field trip…”

“I’m gonna get you, kid. Come on, you know I’m gonna help you. I thought we were past this… I’m almost there. So, just stay where you are…”

He heard Peter sniff on the other end. “Wait, are you in the suit?”

“Am I in the suit?” Tony rolled his eyes. “Are you serious, right now, Parker? You were kidnapped. You better damn well believe I’m in the suit.”

******************************************************************************************

Tony descended on the service station, to see his kid - finally, thank God - in the flesh, and felt his throat tighten. He was dismayed, but not particularly surprised, to see just how much Peter had undersold his injuries. He was soaking wet, missing a shoe, and he had a bruise on his chin and across the bridge of his nose. Dried blood crusted under his nose, and a trail of blood still dripped from a cut on his forearm.

But, he was there. He was alive.

Thank God.

Tony disengaged the suit as Peter ran into him. The kid wrapped his arms around him, and Tony just stood there senseless for a few breaths before he returned the embrace.

This kid was gonna be the death of him.

“Pete, what the hell?” He reproached softly. “You look like a damned drowned puppy.”

Peter started to pull back, but Tony held him by the shoulders at arms’ length.

“Mr. Stark, I really am sorry - “

“Hey, no - we can talk about that bit later, Pete, but you said you weren’t hurt…”

“I’m not,” he said, “I’m not hurt, I’m fine…”

“You are actively bleeding right now,” Tony remarked dryly, touching Peter’s sleeve right above the injury.

Peter looked down as if seeing the wound for the first time.

“Oh, so I am,” Peter said quietly. He looked back at Tony. “I must’ve scratched it when I jumped out of the car. I don’t even really feel it.”

Tony gently touched Peter’s nose, the bridge of which was a hazy blue, and swollen. “Do you feel that?”

Peter frowned. “It does not feel great.”

“May be broken... we’ll get it checked,” Tony said. “Did those assholes hit you, or did this happen when you leapt to freedom?”

“No, they didn’t hit me, they just tied my hands when I was in the car, and then… I didn’t know what to do, because I couldn’t break the rope while they were watching, right? Or they’d know I was too strong to be a normal... guy. So, I pulled the car door open and jumped out, but it was kinda hard to land with my hands still tied…”

“That was really dangerous, Pete, even for Spiderman…”

“They would’ve killed me, I think,” Peter looked at him, eyes haunted, and Tony felt a chill run down his spine. “I was really scared; I didn’t know what they wanted with me - to be a hostage or what - but they took their masks off in the car, so I didn’t think they were gonna let me go…”

Tony sometimes hated his mind, and the thousand possibilities that he could see all at once - the ways in which this whole scenario could’ve gone so wrong. The ways he could’ve lost this kid...

But, right then, Tony’s hands were still holding onto Peter. He was safe, and Tony promised himself he would do whatever he needed to do to make sure this scenario never happened again.

Tony cleared his throat. “You’re shivering. Come on, there’s a diner across the road. We can wait for Hap & Rhodey there.”

********************************************************************************************

Tony gave a huge tip to the wide-eyed waitress who greeted them at the diner.

“He’s had a rough day,” Tony whispered to her after he’d sent Peter into the bathroom to at least wash his hands before eating. “We’re just gonna wait here until his dads come pick him up. You don’t happen to have any towels, do you? I’ll pay for them.”

The waitress, bless her, nodded and disappeared into the back. She returned with three fluffy hand towels and a stack of dish towels, just as Peter was exiting the men’s room. She then led them to a booth towards the back; a seat which afforded a good view out the window, so Tony would be able to see his friends when they arrived.

Thankfully, the place was nearly empty, and the patrons that were there didn’t seem to be paying them any attention. Tony ordered four large meals; not knowing when Peter’s last meal was, or if Rhodey or Happy would want anything when they arrived.

As soon as the waitress was gone, Tony picked up the fluffiest towel in the pile and tossed it to Peter.

“Dry your hair, Parker, you’re gonna catch cold.”

Peter caught the towel and eyed Tony warily before obediently rubbing his hair with it.

“Listen, Mr. Stark, I really am sorry…”

“Kid,” Tony sighed, feeling extremely tired, “every time you apologize, a fairy loses its wings.”

“I - I know, I get it, I keep apologizing,” Peter peeked at him from under the towel, and Tony’s heart clenched again with the thought of what could have happened. “But, I want you to know, I wasn’t just… trying to be reckless, or - or trying to ignore your rules. I just… Can’t let bad things happen to people if I’m there to stop it.”

“And what about you?” Tony raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. “Who stops the bad things from happening to Peter?”

Peter frowned, “I was fine.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna work on your definition of ‘fine.’”

“The man was begging for his life.” Peter whispered harshly, flinging the towel down against the seat, not wanting anyone nearby to hear, but clearly needing Tony to understand. Clearly thinking Tony didn’t understand. “I couldn’t just stand there with my class and go on into the museum and listen to him getting murdered. I couldn’t… I - I had to do something!”

“Then wear the suit, Pete,” Tony ground out slowly through clenched teeth, pitching his voice to match the kid’s, even quieter, knowing Peter could hear, leaning forward to add emphasis. “The suit I made for you, so you could go save people when bad things happen to them, and so I would know to go save you when bad things happen to you!”

“I couldn’t wear the suit when I was supposed to be in class!”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because then you’d know I was… out.”

“Yes. Yes! Then I would know! Yes, that’s the whole entire goddamn point!” Tony hit the table - not loud enough to get them kicked out of the diner, but loud enough to drive home the point.

Peter stared at Tony like he’d just grown two heads. He blinked several times, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

“Peter?” Tony reached over and poked at the kid’s arm. “Did I break you?”

“Ok, wait, so would you have been ok with all this if I’d just worn the suit this morning?”

Would he have been ok with all this?

Something Rhodey had said before they’d left on this whole wild goose chase came back to him…

”Maybe he didn’t want you to know he’d ditched his field trip.”

Tony leaned back in his seat; trying to put himself into the mind of a 16-year-old. When Tony was 16, he was a little shit. He was already enrolled at MIT, going to parties and getting into trouble he had no business being part of, and the whole time… He had wondered if his Dad was ever going to give a damn what his son was up to.

He’d wondered if he’d ever get into enough trouble for his father to finally notice him. He’d wondered if he’d ever get into so much trouble that his dad just disowned him.

But, Peter wasn’t getting into trouble to get attention. Peter was cursed with the ability to know when something terrible was about to happen, and unlike most grown-ass adults, the kid actually gave a damn about someone other than himself. So, this morning, he’d been stuck in a catch-22.

Option One: Ignore the genuine terror of a man a block away, when he could’ve potentially helped.

Option Two: Go help the man, but get in trouble for ditching school.

“God, Pete, I’m sorry,” Tony sighed. He grabbed one of the clean towels and dipped it in his glass of water, sliding out of his booth and crossing the table.

“Scootch over, Web-head,” he said softly.

Peter obliged, and Tony sat next to him. He examined the cut that was still sluggishly bleeding, and carefully dabbed at the blood.

“I don’t want you patrolling when you should be at school,” Tony said, finally.

Peter opened his mouth, but Tony held up a hand before the kid could start to argue.

“This wasn’t patrolling, though, Pete. This was… you over-hearing an emergency situation.” Tony applied pressure to the cleansed wound. Happy had a first aid kit in the car, so they could bandage it up once he arrived. “In the event of an emergency like the one that happened today, I’d much prefer you to wear the suit. I can’t promise you won’t ever get detention if you ditch school, although the fact that they didn’t notice you were missing makes me doubt their abilities to keep you safe… I’m just thankful you have a friend like Ned.”

“Oh, shit, Ned!” Peter looked up at Tony, then clapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Another fairy, kid,” Tony laughed. “You can call Ned in a minute. Let me finish my heartfelt speech, please.”

Peter nodded, lips turning up in a slight smile. Tony ruffled Peter’s hair before continuing.

“I can’t honestly promise that I won’t ever get mad, or not lecture you… But, I promise to listen to your side of the story, and no matter what, I’m not gonna ditch you. Even if you have a month of detention. You’ll just have to visit me after you’ve served your time. And, I’m not gonna take the suit. I’m gonna help you. I think we’ve established today that I physically cannot handle losing you. Similar to how you cannot seem to physically handle not helping people out.”

Peter was quiet for a moment, seeming to process what Tony had just said. Then, his eyes grew misty, and he lunged at Tony, wrapping his arms clear around his mentor, so the man couldn’t move. The kid rested the side of his face against Tony’s chest.

“I really love you, Mr. Stark,” the kid whispered, and Tony’s brain short-circuited - fireworks exploding in his mind. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, just looking down at the kid’s head, before Peter sat up again, blushing.

The waitress came with their food, and Peter stabbed his stack of pancakes with a fork, shoveling them in his mouth with an appetite that only teenagers seem to have. In the meantime, Tony texted the kid’s aunt to tell her Peter was with him, and Ned to tell him Peter was ok. By the time Rhodey and Happy pulled into the parking lot, the kid had eaten all of his meal, and half of Tony’s.

“Look, who’s here,” Tony said quietly, as Rhodey and Happy entered the diner.

Peter put his fork down, frowning at Happy’s scowl. “Am I gonna get another lecture, now?”

“Probably,” Tony said lightly, “But that just means they love you.”

[keanureevesisbae]

“Never out of practice” - Chapter 7

Summary: When Darcie’s father loses an important case, a killer seeks revenge, by kidnapping the entire Angel family. Though John thought that he was officially retired, he has to save his Darcie and her family, because he can’t lose her.

John Wick x OFC Darcie

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Smut

Masterlist / Previous Chapter // Next chapter 

I’m just like my parents, I realize. I can’t not work. I’m a workaholic. During the hours that I should be in the cafe, I have no clue what to do with my time. I’m fidgeting, preparing myself a cup of coffee, bake something and I really want to walk with the dog, but my body is insanely sore, it’s almost impossible to walk around the apartment.

But, despite me trying to get over my withdrawals, John has been nothing but an angel for me. He preps the bed for me, makes sure that it’s comfortable enough and when he scoots in, he wraps his strong arms around me, kissing me on my temple, before whispering that he’ll always protect me. He cooks dinner for me. He goes to the store to get me certain ingredients for my baking or to get me a simple soda, simply because I mumbled to myself that I would like one. He massages me when I complain about a sore neck. He draws me baths so I can relax, sometimes joining me in the tub, sometimes bringing me wine.

Every night when the cafe closes, he gets in his car, so he can close off with my friends. And he doesn’t complain at all.

Finally, when it’s Sunday, a whole week after it all happened, I feel a little better. Psychically, I mean. Mentally I’m still a bit on edge, but with John near me and our sweet dogs, I somehow relax a bit.

Tomorrow will be my first official day of work again and I’m really looking forward. Our regular customers are worried about me, but Raye and Jennie said that I was doing fine, just a bit sick.

We haven’t told anyone about what happened. It’s a secret between my parents, Jennie, Raye, John and I (and well, maybe a lot of people associated with the Continental, but John told me not to worry about that). I want to keep it that way. The news is trying to track down Pete Stanford, but those certain dinner reservations will make it impossible for anyone to find him.

Those men are thorough.

I just got out of another hot bath and I do my night time skin care routine, with a towel wrapped around my body. I know that John is in the guest room, where we placed a table for his bookbinding. I get myself ready for bed and decide to go find him.

This past week, our conversations have been very light. He would watch movies with me, where he’d point out a few things that bothered him. I would try to teach him how to make a decent cappuccino, but his milk frothing skills aren’t very promising.

John sits with his back to the door, but obviously he knows when I’m entering the room, because he says: ‘Hi sweetheart, how was your bath?’

‘Good. When you prepare them, I always enjoy it a little extra.’ I wrap my arms around him and whisper: ‘It looks good. You’re so talented.’

John was already finishing up, because he turns his face to kiss me. ‘Come here,’ he whispers. I sit on his lap, my face to his and he wraps his arms around my waist. ‘You know,’ he confesses, ‘I love you no matter what, but when you don’t wear make-up, my heart always skips a beat.’

‘Why is that?’

‘I don’t know,’ he laughs. ‘You just look extra squishy.’

‘Squishy?’ I repeat, before chuckling. ‘Never thought you would be a man that said squishy.’

‘I keep on surprising. Are you happy that you’re going to work again tomorrow?’

‘I am,’ I say. ‘I mean staying here for an entire week with you, was fantastic and well needed, but… I really need to make someone else a cappuccino or something.’

John smiles. ‘I know. How are you feeling overall?’

‘Sometimes my back hurts a little, but I was thrown against a wall at least one time. It still hurts when I carry something heavy, but I know that you’re staying at the cafe a lot more, so you probably won’t mind helping me out?’

He shakes his head. ‘Anything remotely heavy, I’ll carry it for you.’

‘What are you thinking about?’ I ask him, placing my hands on his bearded cheeks. ‘You look worried.’

‘The day you were taken,’ he says in a hushed tone, ‘you and I had a talk about the future. The entire day I was thinking about it, how you and I might have kids walking around here. How we talked about names.’

‘I know,’ I whisper. ‘But despite what happened, that idea is not off the table.’

‘I know, I know,’ he quickly says.

I can feel he gets uncomfortable and to be honest, I kind of understand. I feel like he is still beating himself up for crying in the car. He has seen me cry a billion times. I think I even cried when I saw Roger and Ellie for the first time together.

John has been my safe place, to spot where I can cry and that he won’t judge me. I know it was a huge step for him—as unwillingly as it may was—to cry in the car.

I carefully press my lips against him. ‘John,’ I whisper, ‘I love you so insanely much.’

‘I love you too, baby.’

‘I don’t want to let you go, like ever.’

He smiles against my lips. ‘I won’t let that happen.’ He lifts me up and carries me to our bedroom. It’s still a bit early, around eight p.m., but I’ve been feeling pretty tired and worn out. ‘You look in pain,’ he whispers, when he placed me on the bed. ‘Are you okay?’

For a few moments I’m mesmerized when he takes off his shirt and pants, to join me under the blankets. I stare at the scars on his chest, his cross tattoo on his shoulder. I have admired his back tattoo for so long, that I feel like I know it by heart now. ‘Just my back.’

John sits up and pats the spot between his legs. ‘I’ll take care of it. Come on, sit.’

I take place between his legs and his fingers press expertly in my muscles. Sure I enjoy it, but when he presses against a certain tight knot in my back, I wince in pain. ‘Sorry, sweetheart.’

Without meaning to, I let out a soft cry. I bury my face in my hands.

John simply wraps his strong arms around my shaking body. ‘Let it all out, Darcie,’ he tells me.

God knows how long I’ve been bottling up emotions. I mean, sure, I’ve cried in these past few days, but this…

When I sniffle and dry my tears, I ask: ‘Weren’t you worried that once you had saved me and my family, you’d have to go back, if the Continental didn’t give you that dinner reservations on behave of them?’

‘No,’ he says. ‘I’d get out for you over and over again, because I can’t live without you.’

⟢⟡⟣

The next morning, Greg, Tina and Roger are way too happy to see me, that I almost think that they need a life outside of this cafe. They all hug me pretty tight and I can’t help but chuckle. ‘We missed you so much, miss Angel,’ Roger says.

‘I missed you guys too. Because you are such regulars and I wasn’t here last week, you’re getting your order on the house,’ I say with a smile.

‘You are the best, miss Angel.’ They all sit at the table near John, chatting away. I always like it when John talks to them. It gives me a vision of the future, how he is willing to sit down with his own kids, no matter how old they are to talk to them about life. While I’m preparing their orders, I feel this sharp pain in my back. Maybe I’ve been standing a little bit too long. Damn, I feel old.

‘Okay, baby, you need to take a break.’

‘John,’ I say, looking to the side. ‘You were talking to the Greg, Roger and Tina.’

‘I know, but I notice everything.’ He huffs, before laughing. ‘I’m your boyfriend, it’s my job to worry.’ John presses a kiss on my temple. ‘Please, take a break.’

‘I will, after I finish up. Raye will be right back and then I’ll sit at your table.’

‘I’ll carry it to their table,’ John says. ‘Please, you need to be careful.’ He places his large hand on the small of my back and I can’t help but smile. He has been so thoughtful for the past week and everything he does, he does without complaining, without thinking. It makes me feel so loved, so noticed.

I finish up the order and John carries it to their table. Raye arrives from the back, with a bucket full of new ice. ‘I’m taking a break, Raye, okay?’

‘Of course,’ she says. She looks over to the side, to see if anyone is listening and whispers: ‘Go sit with daddy.’

‘Yeah okay, bye,’ I say, but I can’t help but laugh. I grab my rose tea and walk to his table. I sit across from him. ‘So, what’s your plan for today?’ I ask him.

‘Well, first I’m going to accompany you during your break and then I’m going to walk the dogs. After that I finish up some books and I’m going to pick you up, obviously.’

‘You know, you’d think I’d be sick of you, after spending this much time with you,’ I joke, ‘but somehow I’m still counting down the minutes until I get to see you again.’

John smiles. ‘Me too.’

‘I have to ask this: aren’t you bored? I mean, your life was so action packed and last week you kind of went back and now you’re doing what you do. Sitting in my cafe and walking the dogs.’ I shrug, but to be honest, it has been keeping me quite busy. What if he misses it? What if I’m holding him back?

He holds out his hand and I place mine in his. ‘I don’t miss that life. At all. Having to go back for a brief moment, was necessary, but I don’t want to go back.’ John’s thumb caresses my fingers and he says: ‘I’m finally enjoying life again. I’m binding books, I can sit at your cafe every day and I walk our dogs.’ He brings my fingers to his lips. ‘And maybe one day, when we have kids, I can sit here with them after I picked them up from school. This can be their second home. We’d watch you working and they can see with their own eyes what a lovely and caring personality their mom has and how you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.’ John shakes his head and says: ‘Not for a second I miss my previous life. I’m so ready to start over with you. So don’t you worry about that for a second, okay?’

That is so sweet.

‘You’re having a kid?’ Roger says, turning around.

‘Oh my God, miss Angel, are you pregnant?’ Greg butts in.

Tina smiles. ‘Is that why you weren’t here last week?’

‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘I’m not pregnant.’

‘Good,’ Roger says, ‘because my mom always says that it’s better if you get married first. Little old school, but since you both are old school, it fits.’

‘Are you calling me old?’ I ask. ‘I can still spit in your coffee, Roger.’

He chuckles. ‘No, you’re not old, miss Angel.’

Greg smiles at us. ‘Well, why were you talking about kids then?’

‘That’s what adults do,’ Tina says, rolling her eyes. ‘They think about the future. Miss Angel, I think it’s so romantic that you two are talking about kids. I bet they will be the cutest little kids ever.’

Why am I blushing?’

‘I totally agree with Tina,’ John says. ‘I mean, every kid is cute, but ours will be the cutest of course.’

‘If you have a boy, will you call him Roger?’

‘And be constantly reminded of you?’ I ask, cocking an eyebrow. ‘No way, knowing one Roger is already bad enough.’

‘Ouch,’ he say, placing his hand on his chest, before he laughs.

‘Are you going to have kids soon?’ Tina asks us.

John chuckles. ‘Well, I’m kind of an old fashion man, so before we’re having kids, I want to be get married to her.’

‘Really?’ I ask him.

‘Yeah, totally.’

‘You should propose to her when the two of you are here,’ Greg suggests.

‘If you do that, John, I swear to God, I’ll say no.’

John starts to laugh and says: ‘No worries sweetheart, I won’t propose to you in the cafe.’

⟢⟡⟣

John already brought Tiki and Oreo home, because he took them out three times to walk them today. Despite that, he is still really worried about me. He doesn’t want me to clean the tables, because that can’t be good for my back, so I’m sitting on the counter, waiting for him to be done.

Raye is at Logan’s place, to have sex and Jennie also went home. She looked really tired and I think that’s because she couldn’t stop worrying about me. Poor Jennie.

‘John, I can help you,’ I say, but he simply shakes his head. ‘Why not?’

‘I’m almost done.’

‘We have to finish up the kitchen too.’

John looks up and says: ‘I know.’

‘I can already start.’

He shakes his head. ‘No, please, sweetheart. I’ve got it.’ He scrubs the last table, giving me full sight of his bottom. I remember when he hung up those posters in the cafe, before we started even dating and my flushed cheeks when I stared at his ass a little too long.

John walks up to me and stands between my legs. ‘What is it?’ he asks with an amused smile.

‘I thought about how you hung up those posters,’ I whisper. ‘I remember that when I got back home, I had such lovely dreams of you with a toolbox.’

John starts to laugh and I fall in love a bit more. I think everyday I fall in love with him more. How this man can have this effect on me, I still try to figure that out.

‘I remember you blushing because you were staring at my ass.’

My eyes grow wider. ‘What?’

‘And you said ‘just a little warm’, but you hadn’t noticed that I was checking you out in the reflection of the cafe windows.’

I bring my hands to my face. ‘That is so embarrassing, John. I thought I was being sneaky.’

‘Well, you weren’t,’ John says, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. ‘I felt really good about myself,’ he adds.

‘You idiot,’ I chuckle. I bring my lips to his, to give him a kiss, but then he scoots me up. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m going to clean the kitchen and you are going to sit there and watch.’ He presses multiple kisses on my cheek and places me on a clean part of the hard surface where Jennie always works.

We chatter a bit, about the most useless things. I like talking about useless things with John. In the beginning of us dating, I thought every conversation had to have a hidden meaning, or just be very Shakespearean. But then one day he mentions that he never understood why people like chai latte and we had an hour long conversation about chai lattes, that literally went no where.

I carefully lower myself to the floor. John literally hears everything, because while he is talking to me and with his back turned to me, but he looks over his shoulder. ‘Sweetheart, what are you doing?’

I walk towards him and stand on my toes, so I can fold my hands in the back of his neck. I pull him a bit forward, so I can kiss him. ‘I love you, John,’ I whisper. ‘Thank you for cleaning up.’

‘Sweetie, of course.’ He smiles. ‘Last week you said that I was looking at you with my bedroom eyes, but the same can be said about you now.’

God, I hate it when I blush like this. Why do I have to blush about those things? I’m thirty one for crying out loud and John and I have been dating for a year and a half. This shouldn’t make me shy.

John pushes up my knitted sweater and the tank top I’m wearing underneath and he places his warm hands on my bare skin. The entire week he has been being really careful, even when it came to sex. He didn’t want to hurt me and whenever he saw my wrists (that are healing, thank God) he’d stop.

But I missed him so much.

‘Well,’ I whisper, ‘are you going to wait until we’re home?’

Though our sex life is pretty vanilla, it begins to spice up every now and then. I somehow manage to be a little bit louder, though it’s still hard for me to do sometimes. But sex at the cafe?

I have never done that, but looking at John right now, it makes it really difficult not to undress completely.

John chuckles, while his eyes turn a shade darker. ‘No,’ he whispers. He unbuttons my pants and pulls it down with my underwear, as he crouches down in front of me. He kisses my inner thigh, softly sucking on the tender skin, his tongue tracing the stretch marks I have there.

My fingers are tangled in his long locks and his beard scratches the sensitive skin. When he’s near my aching center, I feel his wet fingertip between my lips. ‘God, baby,’ he whispers, ‘so wet already.’

He pushes one in, earning him a stiffened moan from me. He places his mouth over my clit, before he sucks on the sensitive bud. He pushes in another one and I take a fistful of his hair.

John stands up and while him kissing me, he keeps on fingering me. Rougher than usually. ‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he says, ‘tell me how you feel.’

‘But what if anyone hears?’ I ask in a tiny voice.

‘No one will hear,’ he tells me. ‘We locked the door, no one can hear or see us in here.’ He places his other hand in the back of my neck and whispers: ‘Please.’

His fingers brush against a sensitive spot, but when he pushes in a third finger, I moan out against his lips. ‘Shit, John.’

‘That’s it,’ he says.

I’m nearing my orgasm, but before I can even tell John, he pulls out his fingers. ‘No, John,’ I whine. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘Open your mouth,’ he tells me. He brings his fingers covered in my juices to my lips and I hold onto his wrist as I suck his long and thick fingers clean. ‘You look really good doing this,’ he admits.

He pulls his fingers out of my mouth and kisses me so deeply, that I’m almost out of breath by the time he lets go of me. Without telling me anything, he turns me around and bends me over the cold table. I hear him unwrapping a condom and when I look over my shoulder, as I see him rolling it on.

John smiles at me. ‘I love you, Darcie.’ I feel his tip near my cunt and I let out a moan when he slowly sinks in. My walls stretch around him and I place my head on the table.

‘John, please, harder,’ I beg, clenching my hands into fists.

‘Only if you promise me to let me know how you feel, baby.’

I nod. ‘Okay.’

John holds onto my hips and slams inside of me. I moan out and he starts to pick up the speed with his thrusts. I bite my lip, another moan desperate to escape from my mouth. ‘Darcie, remember what you’d promise me.’

‘Fuck, John, you’re so big.’

‘That’s my girl,’ he says, squeezing my hips.

Every time he slides inside, my hipbones slamming against the table. My legs are quivering and I let out a sob. ‘John, I’m close.’

‘I know you are, good thing I am too.’

I can’t keep quiet anymore, as my orgasm washes over me. ‘You feel so fucking tight around me,’ John grunts, before his thrusts are getting sloppy. As he rides out his high, I somehow manage to catch my breath. I feel his chest pressed against my back as he pulls me up and he leaves wet kisses in my neck.

John pulls out of me and throws the condom in the trash. I hear him zip up his pants, before he hoists up mine, helping me to get decent again. I button up my pants and John turns me around, a smile evident on his beautiful face.

‘I can’t believe we had sex here,’ I say with pink blushes on my cheeks.

‘Me neither,’ John laughs. ‘Never knew you were into the whole public thing.’

‘Shut up.’

He lifts me on the table and gives me a sweet peck. ‘Did I hurt you?’

I shake my head. ‘No, not at all. I have to tell you one thing, though.’

‘Okay?’

‘You need to take out that thrash bag, because I don’t want anyone to see a used condom in the bottom of the bin. If Raye finds that, she’ll haunt me with that until we are retired and maybe even longer.’

Taglist: @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @flhorah​ @allie1804-fan @cynic-spirit​ @raven-black102

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

What about a 95 where its peter talking about penny?

“I won’t stop until I find ___.”

If any of yall have been following me for the last week or so, you’ll know that I just binge-watched all of 9-1-1. So this is inspired by the (spoilers) tsunami at the beginning of season three. Idk if there are tsunamis in New York and I don’t care really.

This is kinda long so read on ao3 here

Peter can’t breathe, he doesn’t know which way is up or down anymore. All he knows is that he is surrounded by nothing but water. He thrashes his legs and frantically tries to swim somewhere, hopefully to the surface, but for all Peter knows he could be swimming deeper and deeper into the water. Something smacks his foot, his cry of pain is muffled by the water. 

Even when he tried to open his eyes, Peter can’t make heads or tails of where he is, the water is too cloudy.  

All of a sudden, his body is slammed into something hard, knocking any remaining air out of his lungs. Struggling to breathe, Peter quickly uses his stickiness to pull himself up the side of the object. The second his head breaches the surface, he is shoved right back under, only having a second to take a deep breath. But as much as the water tries to keep pulling him, Peter proves himself to be stronger, managing to pull himself on top of what seems to be a half-submerged semi-truck. 

He collapses onto his back for a second, letting himself take deep breathes of air. He can breathe.

“Penny...” He whispers to himself when he finds the breath. 

She had been with him when the wave hit and he had tried his best to hold on to her, but the strength of the water ripped them apart. She could be anywhere.

“Penny!” Peter shouts, pulling himself to his feet. That’s when he sees the city for the first time since being pulled underwater. 

The streets are flooded, covering cars and street signs, tons of debris flows down the narrow streets, it’s horrifying. The sky overhead is mockingly blue. 

“Penny!” He screams again. He hears people shouting and screaming from all over the city, sirens whooping, and car horns, but he doesn’t hear his sister. 

“Help!” Someone calls. Peter looks down to see a young man and woman clinging to a piece of wood floating quickly down the street, from what he can see the woman is bleeding from a cut of her head. They are waving to him, calling for his help. He has to do something. Peter leans over the edge of the truck and grabs the girl’s hand, using all of his strength to pull the couple towards the truck where they climb off of the piece of wood. 

“Thank you,” the man says, shaking Peter’s hand. 

“Have either of you seen a teenage girl, braids, green dress?” Peter asks forcefully. 

“I’m sorry,” the woman says, “I haven’t.”

Peter swears under his breath, “I need to find her.” 

“How are you going to do that?” The man asks, “in case you haven’t noticed, there’s no road,” the man gestures to the rapidly flowing water. “We should just wait here until help comes and then you can check the hospitals.” 

“Hospitals...” Peter breathes. Penny’s smart. She’d know where to go in case of an emergency, and she’d know where Peter would think to look for her. The hospital, specifically the one that May works at. 

“Where are you going?” The girl asks, grabbing his arm when he starts to move.

“I won’t stop until I find her,” Peter says and pulls out of her grasp. 

Backing up a few steps, Peter runs at full speed, leaping from the truck to the side of the building, catching himself easily with the tips of his fingers. The couple below him gasp as he starts scaling the rough bricks.

Peter climbs across the building and leaps to the next one and the one after that and that and that. He’s never had to be Spiderman without his webs or his suit, so it’s a little awkward at first, but he catches on easily. Below him, he can hear gasps and people shouting and calling for help, but as much as Peter wants to help them, he needs to know his sister is safe. 

But a small voice in his head keeps asking him what if she’s not? What if she’s not okay? What if she’s not at the hospital? What then? Peter doesn’t know the answer to those questions yet and he hopes he never has to find out the answers. 

His mind keeps bringing up awful images of his sister, knocked unconscious and drowning, pinned under the water, stabbed with a piece of debris, he sees Penny dead in dozens of ways. All his fault. He’s Spiderman, he should be able to protect his sister.

It takes him the better part of two hours to climb to the hospital. The water here is significantly lower, only a few inches deep. Peter’s already drenched so it doesn’t really matter. 

Outside the hospital, there are dozens of white tents set up. Floodlights cast a sharp white glow on the scene. People bustle everywhere, carrying others in their arms, calling for doctors, and rushing to the aid of victims. It’s awful. 

Peter runs, looking around wildly, he knows shouting here will just add to the noise and if Penny’s here he won’t find her. He runs through the aisles of tents looking in tent after tent, trying to find her. Peter knows he must look insane, but he is desperate. If he doesn’t find Penny here-

“Peter!” 

Peter whirls around at the sound of his name. Tony is running towards him, eyes heavy and worried. Thankfully Tony doesn’t look hurt, he must have been at the tower. Tony yanks him into a bone-crushing hug, despite the fact that he is soaking wet, “Are you okay? Where’s your sister?” Tony asks. 

Peter shakes his head, tears falling, “I-I don’t know. I tried to-to hold on to her but the water-” Peter covers his sob with his hand. “I-I lost her. I don’t know where she is-” 

Tony pulls him back into another hug, “We’re going to find her, kid.” Peter clings tightly to his mentor, sobbing into his suit coat. “It’s going to be okay.” Peter knows he can’t promise that. 

“Tony! Peter!” 

Both men look up to find Penny, dirty and bloody and wet, limping toward them, her right leg bleeding from the shin. Her green dress is torn across her stomach and her hair is all tangled.

“Penny!” Peter gasps. He breaks away from Tony and sprints towards his sister, immediately slamming her with a hug. Penny lets out a grunt of pain but doesn’t let Peter let go of her. The twins cling to each other desperately, crying into the other’s shoulder. 

“I didn’t know if I was going to find you,” Peter admits quietly. “Are you okay?” 

Penny shakes her head, pulling away. Her tears carved a path down the blood and dirt on her cheeks, “I think I need a doctor.” Peter nods and calls over his shoulder for a doctor, helping Penny sit down on a nearby bench. 

“I’m sorry, Penny,” Peter tells her, squeezing her hand. “I should have-”

“It’s not your fault,” Penny insists. 

“She’s right,” Tony agrees, he reaches out and touches Penny’s cheek who leans into the touch. “It’s not your fault, Pete.” 

At that moment, a doctor arrives with a stretcher for Penny. 

“Peter,” Penny reaches out for him when the doctors lift her up to the stretcher. “Don’t leave me.” 

Peter grabs her hand as Tony slings an arm around his shoulders, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Tag list: @gasplaughgasp @canonismybitch @shadedrose01 @baloobird @whatisawilltolive @a-liddell-alice @you-know-i-larb-you-3000 @irondad-is-cannon-bitch @lyssismagical @spideygirl2003 @make-the-stars-stay

[negasonicteenagemess]

girls/girls/boys  peter parker imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k+ (I think it’s my longest yet)

Request: I suggested it and people said yes sooooo here it is lads. It’s 7:30am and I haven’t slept so forgive the mistakes

A couple Spider-Man ps4 references here and there

No Endgame spoilers

masterlist

New York. The best place on Earth, at least in Peter Parker’s eyes. After an alien invasion here and there, the people of this city came together in one, borderline heroic, ideology. To rebuild together. As a city united, they fixed not only the physical attributes of the city, but the hearts as well. Hope returned as people such as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man began to step up to protect the city they loved. 

The people of this city made it so easy and great to love for Peter. Well, besides when he gets beaten to a pulp by bad guys. That isn’t fun for anyone.

As Peter walked on the cracked pavement under the setting sun in the city he loved, with the girl he loved, he couldn’t help but admire her. After nine months, to this day, of dating this girl, Peter knew he loved her.

Yes, he knew it was crazy, but if he had to hear ‘you’re in high school, you don’t know what love is’ one more time, he’d just lose it. Deep down in his heart as he saw the light breeze ruffled her hair, he knew that what he felt for her was love.

He loves her with every fiber of his being.

But those three little words were never once said due to his guilt. Peter felt that it was wrong to confess his love to her without her knowing everything about him. That hiccup just so happened to be clad in red and blue spandex.

Nine months, the time frame of a pregnancy and he still hasn’t told her the truth about why he cancels dates and misses class more often than not. He was scared in all honestly. He couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving him because of his alter ego. So, he kept it bottled inside, along with his revelation of love.

As they walked in a comfortable silence, Y/N began to lose herself in her thoughts as well. When she met Peter Parker for the first time in biology in freshmen year, she knew she was done for. As cliched as it sounds, he was different than most other guys. His heart, the care he held, made him who he was, and she loved that about him.

But, just like Peter, she was keeping a secret from him that she thought would ruin their relationship. She liked boys, obviously because she was dating one. What Peter didn’t know was that she liked boys… and girls.

The way she thought of it was stupid. The logical side of her brain knew that he would never hate her for being bi. The other side of her shivered in fear of the thought of Peter kicking her out of his life.

She didn’t want his feelings for her to change which is why she’s been silent on the topic. Tonight, that would change.

“So, what do you have in store for our epic anniversary?” The boy questioned as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Y/N smiled as she made eye contact with him.

“It’s a surprise,” the smile on her face grew as Peter shook his head and chuckled. “You and your surprises.” He leaned in to give her a short peck on the lips as they kept walking. Her cheeks turned red at the small act of affection.

After small talk, and down a few more blocks, they arrived at the restaurant with insanely bright neon lights. “Karaoke?” Peter read off the sign on the restaurant window. Y/N beamed at the confusion on Peter’s face, “yeah! I thought it would be fun to give it a try. But if you don’t want to then we-“

He cut her off, squeezing her hand, “No this is great. Just keep in mind, singing is not my strong suit.” He opened the door for her as she giggled at the comment.

The couple was soon seated at a booth while a very drunk man sang ‘Eye of the Tiger.’ Peter and Y/N went over the memories they made together over the past few months. One of the employees took the mic, and with a voice laced with boredom, called the next person up. “Y/N L/N, you’re up next.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he looked at his girlfriend questionably with a French fry between his fingers. Y/N nervously chuckled, “I immediately regret this.”

Stunned, Peter stumbled through his words, “I um.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “I think you’ll do great.” The initial shock washed away, as he offered her a comforting smile. She nodded her head trying to convince herself more than anything as she stood up and walked to the stage.

“You got this Y/N,” Peter encouraged, tossing her a thumbs up when the mic was placed in her hand. An anxious smile graced her lips as she gave a small wave to the people watching her intently.

‘This was such a bad idea,’ she kept thinking over and over again just as the music began.

“Oh god,” she whispered before the words made their way on the screen towards the far left of the stage, in the direction that Peter was.

“I don’t wanna hear you’ve got a boyfriend Sometimes you’re better off alone”

The beat was familiar for Peter, but he didn’t quite know the song. He felt down because of how tense Y/N was, but the proud smile never left his lips as he cheered for her from halfway across the restaurant.

“But if you change your mind, you know where I am Yeah if you change your mind, you know here to find me ‘Cause I don’t ever wanna be your boyfriend”

Y/N’s voice gradually grew slightly more confident as the song went on, and every now and then she’d look at the screen for the words. With this newfound confidence, which wasn’t much, she began to look at the other people in the ‘crowd.’

Peter’s eyes eventually trailed to one of the T.V.’s behind the bar. There was a hostage situation at Grand Central. Again. He bit his lip and looked back at his girlfriend. ‘Why the heck would someone hold other people hostage at GC?’

“I am just a villain vying for attention From a girl A girl who can’t decide and here’s the reason why”

She found her eyes searching for Peter’s, and as they locked, words spewed out of her mouth.

“Girls love girls and boys”

The song soon ended and she stood there awkwardly yet again. She walked off the stage and back to the booth where her boyfriend was waiting. When she approached the table, Peter quickly stood up as his eyes kept flicking from Y/N’s to the T.V. behind her.

The uneasy smile returned when she approached him. “So… what did you think Pete?” She bit her lip, anticipating his response.

“Uh, it was great babe, but I gotta go. May needs something.” Peter grabbed his jacket from the booth about to step away without acknowledging the look on Y/N’s face.

“Something more important than our anniversary?” Her voice was shaky, from anger and sadness simultaneously. He stopped his steps and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” before Y/N could respond, he bolted out the door of the restaurant.

She let out a light scoff as she plopped herself into the booth. Pushing the plate to the side, she leaned her head on her hands while tears pooled in her eyes.

Somehow, she knew this would happen. She knew that Peter wouldn’t like her because of this. Their waitress walked by, noticing her distress. “Hey, you alright?” The kind woman questioned with concern. Y/N sat up, redness around her eyes, “my boyfriend ditched me after I basically told him a really big secret.”

The waitress felt bad for the poor girl and saw that there was obviously a person who previously occupied the seat across from Y/N. “I saw your little performance and it was great. I’ll make sure everything’s on the house.”

Y/N’s eyes widen at the woman’s statement. “Y-You don’t have to do that.” She wiped the tears off her cheeks as the waitress waved her off, “Nonsense. It’s the least I can do.” She smiled down at the poor girl. “Thank you,” Y/N sniffed. The woman nodded her head and walked off to assist another customer.

Y/N huffed, pulling out her phone and going straight to the contacts with the only person she could think to call. Pressing the device against her ear, she waiting as she heard it ring.

“Hey Y/N what’s up?” MJ’s iconic gloomy while simultaneously cheery voice greeted. “MJ, I-I don’t know what to do.” Her voice stuttered as she fiddled with the napkin on the table.

“Woah what happened? Where’s Peter?” MJ’s voice grew with concern as question rattled her brain. Y/N sobbed, “He left. He fucking left me here after I basically told him that I’m bi. And-And it sucks because I did the plan, with the karaoke to, you know, break the ice. But it didn’t work. He ran out of here MJ.” Her breathing was uneven as she recounted the story from just a few moments ago.

“Oh god,” MJ whispered into the phone as she got up from her bed to grab her coat and jacket. “Y/N, send me the address to that place. I’ll try to be there soon.”

Sighing, Y/N tried to deflect. “No, you don’t have to-“before she could finish, MJ interrupted. “Yes, I do. You’re always there for me Y/N, so now it’s my turn,” MJ boldly stated as she shut the front door. Y/N closed her eyes, as a few more tears escaped, “thank you.” They bid their farewells and MJ was already on the way.

Across Midtown, Peter was graciously learned that he was taking out ‘terrorists’ that were holding hostages in Grand Central. Slowly, one by one he stealthily took them out. But he made a terrible mistake. His phone. The small device was tucked into the waistband of his boxers so there wasn’t much he could do at this point.

The ringtone blared and all eyes were on him. “Oh no,” he whispered as the gunmen started firing rounds at him as he stuck to the ceiling. He ran on the ceiling yelling, “Hey Karen.”

The automated voice responded, “Yes, Peter?”

The boy dodged bullets left and right before he zipped down onto the ground. “Can you connect to my phone?” He blurted, now throwing punches at the man in front of him. Peter webbed one of the men to the floor before he was bombarded by more of those men. “Hey guys, sorry about crashing the party,” Peter exclaimed mockingly, shooting a web at the ceiling, swinging and kicking on of the men in the face.

“Actually, I’m not that sorry,” he joked. His phone rang again, but this time he was able to see who it was on the interior of his mask. “MJ?” He whispered. His distraction allowed the men to get a few hits in. Before he could get shot at again, he used his webs to pull the guns away from them, throwing them far behind him.

The ringing didn’t stop, and Peter groaned, “answer it, please Karen.” Silently, the A.I. did what it was told.

“MJ, can I call you back, I’m a little busy,” he shouted, tripping one of the terrorists. MJ scoffed on the other end of the line, “really Peter? It’s your anniversary and you ditched Y/N at a restaurant.” MJ was fuming and the taxi driver gave her strange looks.

“Look, I know it was bad, but believe me,” he paused, kicking someone in the face, knocking them out, “I really wanted to stay. Because I- “He cut himself off. He didn’t know what to say, his mind went blank until he felt a sharp pain in his gut from the terrorist. “You what, Peter?” MJ angrily said, paying the driver and getting out of the car. “I love her, okay?” He shouted. He froze and so did the men before him. They all kind of exchanged ‘what the fuck’ looks before one of the men lunged at Peter.

“I gotta go,” he hung up before she could protest, knocking out the last few guys then calling the police.

MJ went into the restaurant going straight to her best friend. When they saw each other, Y/N stood up next to the booth to hug her friend. MJ let her friend vent, knowing that just being there and listening to her meant a lot.

The night went on, and the pair grew tired. MJ took her friend home, paying the taxi fair for her. “You sure you don’t want me to stay the night?” MJ offered as the approached Y/N’s apartment door. She nodded her head, “I think I’ll be okay.”

MJ let out a short breath, “call me if you need anything, alright?” Y/N softly smiled nodding her head. She went in for a hung, again, needing any form of contact at the moment.

“See ya,” MJ stated, walking back towards the exit of the building. “Bye,” Y/N mumbled loud enough to be heard. She went inside her apartment, going straight to her room. The second she shut her door; the tears began to flow as she covered her face with her hands.

She tried to stabilize her breath, but it was getting too hard. She sat on her bed, not feeling motivated to even change her clothes. Y/N looked at her clock and saw that it was only a little after eight. She sighed as her tears slowed down. Her eyes began to get heavy and she decided to just lay down, trying her best to ignore the deep feeling in her heart.

Soon after the police arrived, Peter learned that those men had plans to plant bombs in the terminal. He was relieved to know that he got there fast enough to prevent the bombs. Peter then leap in the air to swing on his webs to the girl he loves.  

Running, swinging, and jumping through the city was usually such a rush for Peter. The city he loved looked a lot smaller from where he was at, but the rush was non-existent that night as his one goal was to get to Y/N.

As he landed on the fire escape quietly, he looked through the window to see his girl asleep on her bed. He pulled the mask off his face, his brown locks flopping as he did so. He examined the red material in his hands mulling over his thoughts. Is it really worth it, keeping this secret from her which ultimately makes her feel like shit in the end? Peter sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair as he bit his lip in thought.

After a while of thinking, he pulled the mask back on, “hey Karen?” The automated voice replies, “yes Peter?”

“C-Call Y/N,” he stuttered, nervous about the next interaction. He kept cracking his knuckles, as he heard the phone ring. He looked through the windowpane and saw her slowly wake up to the ring of her phone. She groggily sat up, rubbing her eyes, most likely from leftover tears as Peter thought.

He watched her pick up the small device, her eyebrows raised as she just stared at it and watch it ring. He watched hopefully as she pressed the screen, only to hear her voicemail message start. She threw her phone onto her bed, holding her head in her hands. “H-Hang up and call again Karen.” His voice was rough as he saw Y/N’s distressed state.

“Peter, that isn’t such a good idea,” the automated voice suggested, but Peter blew it off. “Just do it, Karen,” his frustrated voice pleaded even though he knew the A.I. would obey.

The ringing began, again, and he watched as Y/N groaned, grabbing the device yet again. Under the mask, Peter bit his lip, whispering to himself “please pick up. Come on, come on.”

He saw her roll her eyes and answer the phone. “Peter, stop calling me. It’s late. I’m tired and I just need time to think.” He watched as she lowered her phone about to hang up.

His eyes went wide as he begged, “wait, wait, wait!” He said this far too quickly and rushed which got Y/N curious. She sighed exasperatedly. “What do you want, Peter? You wanna leave me hanging again or- “she scoffed.

He could hear how hurt she was from what her did and her felt awful about it. He rubbed the back of his neck, doing the only thing he thought could solve this. “L-Look out the window,” he implored.

Y/N slowly averted her eyes towards the glass, only to quickly stand up and drop her phone. After Spider-Man, or Peter, pointed towards the lock, Y/N with furrowed eyebrows, rushed to open the window.

They both stood there, looking at each other. “Hey,” Peter awkwardly greeted with a small chuckle. “Spider-Man…. You’re Spider-Man.” She stated, trying to get herself to understand the situation.

She moved to allow Peter into her room. As he crawled through the window, he pulled his mask off. Y/N was able to see cuts and bruises littering her boyfriend’s face. “Oh my god,” she worriedly stated, walking close to him and enclosing his face in her hands to examine the damage. “It’ll heal in a few hours,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he leaned into her warmth.

“When, why did this happen?” Y/N questioned, softly running her fingers over his bruises. Peter sighed, recounting the memory, “you remember that one field trip in freshman year at the science exhibit?”

She made eye contact nodding her head as she continued to examine his injuries. “There was a radioactive spider they were testing and surprise surprise, it bit me. I gave me powers.”

Y/N froze, “so when you told everyone you got contacts, was it just your…abilities?” Peter nodded his head, placing his hands over hers. “I-I felt like you needed to know before I told you.” He considered the option about whether or not to tell her, but what the hell did he have to lose?

“I’m sorry I left. There was a hostage thing at GC and- and I know you were super scared on that stage, but those people were gonna die and,” he rambled, but Y/N cut him off.

“Peter, it’s okay, you did what you had to do,” she moved her arms around the back of his neck and looked lovingly into his eyes, “I thought you left because you realized you didn’t like me-“ this time, it was Peter’s turn to cut her off.

“I love you,” he boldly confessed, placing his hands on her hips gently, “and I didn’t want to tell you until you knew about, this.” He said referring to the suit and his identity.

Y/N had no words, nodding her head to what he said. She gathered her thoughts quickly, “did you happen to pick up the… the stupid song I sang?” She bit her lip, now she was the one who was nervous.

Peter’s cheeks flushed red as he looked down his shoes, “I’m sorry, I was distracted because of the news.” Y/N chuckled breathlessly because of her nerves.

“Well, umm” she stumbled through her words, “I don’t know how to put this.”

Peter smiled encouragingly, “whatever it is, I will still love you. Unless you told me that you killed someone or something.” Y/N shook her head, mirroring his soft smile.

“I’m just gonna say it,” she practically dared herself, “I’m bi. And the song was about girls liking boys and girls. And since I like boys and girls, I thought it was fitting to do that for our anniversary.” She spoke very fast, but Peter was able to understand it all.

“Wait, really?!” He excitedly asked, pulling a way to get a better look at her face. Y/N did not expect that reaction at all. “Yes?” She answered questionably as she gripped Peter’s shoulders. He smiled, “I’m glad you told me, Y/N. After a year with you, I’m just glad you got the courage to tell me.”

Her heart melted as she didn’t expect such a sappy answer. “I wish I told you sooner, I just didn’t really know how to do it. So, MJ helped me plan the whole thing at the restaurant. Even though that completely backfired.”

“Yeah she called me basically telling me I’m a shitty person,” he laughed due to the classic Michelle Jones behavior. Y/N’s heart filled with joy at the thought of her best friend defending her. “God I love MJ,” Y/N said as she laughed with Peter.

Their laughter died down as they just admired each other. “And I love you,” Y/N expressed as Peter softly raised his eyebrows. “You mean it?” He asked as if it wasn’t real.

“More than you’ll ever know,” she whispered leaning in to finally kiss the guy she loved with all of her heart.

AN: I’ve lived in Florida for most of my life, and recently Pride month has meant a lot more to me due to the Pulse shooting in 2016. Under one common ideology people from Olrando, all over the state then soon all over the country showed their support. The LGBTQ+ community grew stronger as everyone united under the idea that love wins.

Which is kind of the reason I really wanted to write something like this.

So I hoped you liked it!

[fly-flower-fanfics]

Lost Memories

Peter Parker x Male Reader

Warnings: None

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Peter," I greeted as I made my way through the living room. "I'm heading out to the café to grab something. Would you like anything?"

Peter looked over at me, giving me a small smile. "No, it's all good."

"Would you like to come along?" I offered. "You needn't if you don't want to. I know you're doing something." I gestured to the television that he was watching. "I just didn't know if you wanted to get out of the tower for a little while."

He shrugged and shut off the tv. "Ah, sure. The episode was over anyway." Peter grabbed his jacket and put it on.

The café wasn't that far away, and it wasn't uncommon for the two of us to go there. Peter was my best friend, and the two of us were inseparable. There was basically not Peter without me and no me without him.

My feelings had grown past a friendship, though, even though I was embarrassed to admit it. I hated seeming like one of those cliché type of people. Especially since the two of us were men. I didn't even know how he felt about gay couples.

Our short walk was filled with light conversation, talking about what we had done that day. It was a lazy day for the Avengers. No one needed capturing, Loki was behaving himself as much as he could, and the world seemed peaceful for a change.

It was barely two in the afternoon, so the sun was shining bright in the sky. The trees swayed peacefully in the wind, and I couldn't help but smile. It was a beautiful day to be spending with the most beautiful person I knew.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" I asked Peter for what was probably the tenth time.

Peter laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. I don't need anything."

Once I reached the counter, I pulled out my wallet. "Hi, can I have a hot chocolate and two blueberry muffins?" I glanced over my shoulder at Peter. "You're getting something anyway because I don't wanna sit here by myself and look dumb while you sit there with nothing."

I paid and stood off to the side to wait for my drink. My eyes scanned the small place before settling on a man that I wish I would never see again. The stark red hair against his black clothing was enough to give away who he was. But he turned to kiss his new boyfriend, showing me more of his face.

My heart sunk, and I turned my head away. I immediately felt like today was one of the most disgusting days ever. As I took my drink and the two muffins, I moved to a corner booth. I made sure to sit where my back was facing him, even though I could no longer see him. He'd probably left by now or something.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked, reaching across the table to place his hand on top of mine.

"Hm? O-oh. Um, yeah."

"Who was that?"

I sighed, dropping my eyes back to my hands where Peter's thumb was gentle stroking the side of my own. "That-that was, um, one of my exes. His name's Ina. He-he was my first serious relationship." A dry laugh left my lips. "After all these years, you'd think that he wouldn't sour my mood the second I laid my eyes on him."

"I'm sorry," Peter said quietly.

I just shook my head. "He didn't do anything bad. He was a decent boyfriend. He-he just... up and left. I didn't get any reason; I didn't get any closure. And to this day, it breaks my heart when I see him because all the memories we had fill my head and... how am I supposed to know what he actually meant and what he was faking?"

I removed my hands from underneath his and gave him one of the muffins. I didn't want to talk about Ina anymore because I already knew I was on the brink of tears. I was over him, truly, I was, but the knowledge of never gettin g answers or closure still burnt a hole straight through my heart. Endings were always something hard for me to grasp, but it was even harder knowing that the end was never explained.

I cleared my throat as I looked up at Peter. His eyes were soft and full of concern. I really just didn't want to talk about it though.

"I'll cry if you don't eat that," I said and pointed to the muffin that sat untouched in front of him.

Peter looked down at it before smiling. "alright, alright."

I took a sip from my drink, trying to ignore the heavy feeling on my heart. "Any new news to share? Anything interesting happen lately?"

"No," he answered. "But Mr. Stark won't stop teasing me about the person I like."

I set my drink down, my hands pressed flat against the table. "Oh? Is she nice? Pretty? Totally worth it?"

Peter laughed and took a bite of his muffin. "Yeah, he is."

I nearly choked on my own spit. He? Did I hear him correctly? Did he just say he? Did that mean I eventually may have a chance?

"Tell me about him! Spill. Spill it, Peter Parker."

A blush heated up Peter's cheeks as his eyes dropped to the muffin that he was now picking at. "Ah-ah, well, he's nice. And he's funny. And he's absolutely adorable. He's-he's quite handsome. I could stare into his eyes all day, ya know?"

The longer Peter talked, the larger my smile got. I knew that there was no way in hell that he was talking about me, but I wanted Peter to be happy, and it sounded like this man — whoever he was — clearly did the job.

Peter finished wish a large smile, his face flushed red. "I-I'm sorry."

"No, no. He sounds wonderful. I'm glad he makes you so happy. When you finally ask him out, you better bring him around so I can meet him! I need to see if this man is going to meet my standards for you," I replied with a smile.

Peter just shook his head slightly as he looked down at his half finished muffin. We finished our snacks and headed out of the café once more. My day had gotten a little bit brighter after listening to Peter ramble about his crush.

"Do you like anyone?"

I turned my attention back to Peter who was leading me towards a park. I felt my own cheeks heat up as I shrugged.

"Yeah, but I know that he doesn't like me back. He likes someone already, ya know? And I'm happy for him. Sucks cuz it isn't me, but if he's happy, then I'm happy. I've always wanted what was best for him anyway."

I shoved my hands into my pockets, letting my eyes roam around once more. The sun didn't seem as bright as it did before, and the trees seemed to be a bit more droopy. I took a seat on one of the red swings, scuffing the tips of my shoes against the dirt underneath me.

"Do you want me to tell Tony to shut it for you?" I asked, snickering to myself.

"Oh, he already knows who he is. Mr. Stark would never let me hear the end of it if you said something to him about it.

"That's what best friends do though," I said as I pushed myself backwards on the swing, causing it to move. "Stand up for one another. Only I get to make fun of you for the man you're in love with."

Peter laughed and followed suit, allowing himself to swing. "Does that mean I get to make fun of you?"

"No," I relied, smiling as I closed my eyes. "He's much too pure for that. He's too soft and sweet for anyone to make fun of him, even you. Sorry, I don't make the rules, Pete."

We swung in silence for a little while, small talk filling it every now and again. I didn't want to go back to the tower, but I wasn't sure if the others would somehow need us. Eventually, we got off the swings and headed back into the direction of the tower. We'd been out for about an hour and a half, and I guess that that was long enough.

"What do you do if you're afraid that asking him out would ruin something great you already have?" Peter asked me as we entered the elevator.

"Well... you never know. If that something great is already pretty strong, you two should be able to get over it and move on. It'll be a little awkward at first, but it should eventually go back to the way thing were. You never know if you don't try."

My own words repeated themselves in my head. You never know if you don't try. I closed my eyes and tucked my lip between my teeth. I wouldn't ever know if I didn't try. The soft rumbling of the elevator was all that I could hear, and somehow, it felt encouraging.

"Peter?" I asked softly, looking over at him.

He turned his head to look at me. His hair was fluffed out from the wind, and it looked utterly beautiful. His eyes were so perfect, twinkling softly like they held starlight inside of them. His lips were a light pink, slightly damp from him running his tongue over top of them. His cheek bones were totally kissable.

I shook my head out of the trance-like state I was in to finish what I wanted to say — or try to.

"Peter... Peter, you don't know anything unless you ask or try. And I've lost out on so many opportunities because I was afraid to ask or do. And I'm tired of that." I adjusted myself so my whole body was facing him and not just my head. "So I'm going to go for it." I took a deep breath. "I love you, Peter. You're the man I'm in love with. And I know you like someone already, but I want you to know that I love you. I'm in love with you. And god, it's probably selfish of me to say this now... I just want to tell you, to say, just in case I ever get the chance to be with you."

Peter looked back at me, turning himself to face me. A small smile formed on his lips as he enveloped me into a hug.

"I love you, too," he whispered. "I'm not in love with anyone else other than you."

"I-I thought-"

"I know," he reassured me, leaning his forehead on mine." I know. But I'm in love with you. And it's you that I want."

I could feel his warm breath over my face. It was driving me incredibly insane. He loves me. He loved me. I pressed my lips against his, holding him close by the sides of his unzipped jacket. His hands gripped my hips as he returned the kiss.

The elevator dinged, signaling we had reached Peter's floor. He held my hand and pulled me out of the elevator with him.

"I wasn't done kissing you," Peter mumbled with a blush, leading me back to his room.

As soon as he closed the door, he pulled me up against him and kissed me again. His lips were so soft, softer than I thought that they would be. God, he was so damn perfect. His hands traveled to my waist, pressing our bodies closer together.

"I don't think I'll ever be done," I admitted once he paused for air.

"I'm okay with that."

[plus-size-reader]

Love and Support

Teddy Sanders x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1610 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Teddy doesn’t know where to go when Pete gets engaged, so he goes to the only person in the world that he can always count on. 

———————————————————————————————————

When Pete got engaged, Teddy realized that he didn't have anywhere to go. It had just been the two of them all through most of high school and all of college. However, now that Pete was doing the whole marriage thing, he was no longer interested in living with his best friend.

So, he went to the one place that he knew he would always be welcome...

Your house.

You and Teddy had been on and off most of your relationship but more than that, you were also best friends. You had always had his back, and always would so even when he was lost and had no where to go.

He knew that he was always going to have you...no matter what.

Which was why you didn't even ask questions when he knocked on the door of your apartment, wearing nothing but his track pants.

Instead, you ushered him in and sat him on the couch before heading into the kitchen to grab him a water. As far as you could tell, he'd actually ran all the way from his house, and not super successfully.

"Thank you" he hummed, taking the glass in one hand, and running his free hand through his hair, which was slightly damp with sweat.

You nodded, plopping down on the couch beside him. You knew that you should have been upset with him, considering the two of you hadn't talked in what seemed like forever...but you weren't.

The two of you weren't exclusive and Teddy didn't owe you anything. Right now, he just needed someone to look after him for a while. He only came to see you when he really needed it and you weren't going to turn him away.

"Did you lose your shoes or just not wear them?" you wondered, breaking the silence in the room. You wanted him to open up to you at his pace but a little bit of context would have been nice.

It wasn't every day that he showed up like this, and he was being super quiet.

Typically, Teddy was super affectionate and was all over you as soon as you opened the door but today he was in his head.

Something really intense must have happened to get him like this.

You hadn't seen Teddy like this in a really long time.

"Didn't wear 'em" he muttered, downing the entire cup of water like he was shooting tequila. He was really upset, and to be totally honest, you hated it.

You just wanted to make it all better for him. "Oh, poor baby" you cooed, pulling him into your chest lightly so you could play with his hair. He had always liked to cuddle like this when you two would spend the night together.

That was the best thing about the two of you and the relationship you shared. You were comfortable together and there was no room for shame there.

Whatever was bothering him, Teddy was going to have to own up eventually because you were here for him, but you didn’t have all night. The sooner he told you what was up, the sooner you could help him work through it.

“Are you going to tell me why not?” you wondered, running your fingers through the slightly curly hair at the base of his neck.

Once Teddy got comfortable enough, he was going to tell you what had prompted his arrival at your door...all you had to do was wait for him to break the ice.

Which he did, after a hefty sigh into your lap.

“Pete is getting married”

The sentence came out as a strangled huff against your thighs, which he was face down in currently...but you caught enough of it to understand.

Pete and Teddy had been together for even longer than the two of you had, by a very large margin and with him moving on with his lover, it was understandably hard for him to grasp.

If your best friend was getting married, you would have struggled too. It didn’t help that the both men lived together too, because now Teddy didn’t have anywhere to go.

Everything had snapped into place with a single sentence.

“And you don’t want him to abandon you?” you finished, filling in the blanks as best you could. In the mood that Teddy was in right now, he was most likely not going to finish a whole thought.

He could be kind of spacey when he got emotional...and this was a very emotional topic for him.

“Of course I don’t want him to abandon me!? I just want him to appreciate me” he whined, wanting more than anything to just have everything go back to the way it was before.

Everything had been perfect, but now that Pete had Deran, he didn’t need him anymore. It was hard to feel like he was being tossed away for a different model. He didn’t want to throw away everything that they had built together as brothers.

You got it...no one wanted to feel that. You could definitely understand where Teddy was coming from, though you still weren’t one-hundred percent certain where you’d come in.

“But you know that he appreciates you right? You know that he loves you” you reminded, trying to stop the dramatics that Teddy had in store for you.

He was dealing with something that was hard, but not impossible.

“You should be happy for him Teddy bear, because he’s happy” there was something pretty calming about your words. You had a point, there was no reason that any of this had to be about him because the wedding was for Pete.

The whole thing was about Pete, no matter if it hurt him in the process.

It wasn’t about Teddy, and he just had to realize that.

“Thank you Y/N, I can always count on you” he purred, sitting up finally to sit beside you. His hair was disheveled because of your playing with it but not too much for either of you to care.

What really mattered was that he seemed much more calm about the entire situation than when he first arrived at your door. There was just something so reassuring about having you in his corner at all times...

Teddy should have known that you would always be there.

He was so lucky...and he only just realized.

“I’m in love with you” he blurted out, shocking you both with his confession. He hadn’t ever said that to you, even when you were more serious and you weren’t sure how to react.

There was no way that Teddy was actually in love with you. He was probably just feeling emotional right now and wouldn’t see you again until he had another problem.

That was just the way that it went and you were comfortable with that, you liked it that way.

“What?”

You were positive that your eyes were as wide as saucers as you waited for him to clarify but he only shrugged, turning toward you fully to get a better view into your eyes.

“I am in love with you...and I always have been” he hummed, reaching out to take your hand in his own to give it a squeeze, as if that would somehow prove it to you.

In any other situation, you would have assumed that you two were just messing around, or maybe he was too emotional right now to think clearly but when you looked at his face, you knew differently.

Never in your life had you seen Teddy like that. There was a look in his eyes that told you that he was serious...

And Teddy was rarely serious.

He acted like his life was one big joke, and that had always been a problem that you had with him. However, this was completely different.

Teddy would never play with your feelings like that...you knew that for a fact. He might have been a bit goofy, and unmotivated but he had a heart of gold, no matter what happened.

So you had to believe him.

"You're in love with me?" you repeated, only repeating it to make sure that you weren't totally insane. You wanted to make sure that he was a hundred percent sure before admitting anything to him.

Sure, you'd always been in love with Teddy, it would have been impossible not to be. However, that didn't mean that you were completely ready to be vulnerable right now.

This was about him, this was about his feelings and how hurt he was about his best friend getting married. The last thing you wanted to do was talk about your history, not when he was in this hyper-emotional state.

Still, you were open to having a conversation about it...in the morning.

For now, you just wanted to make sure that Teddy was alright, and then you two could go to bed. It would be much better to talk about such a sensitive issue over pancakes and orange juice.

"I love you too Teddy bear, now lets get you to bed" you allowed, taking his hand in your own to lead him to the guest bedroom, where he'd spent many nights since graduating.

As tired as he was, it was definitely a good call to wait until he felt a little better to talk about it. The two of you may have been in different rooms as you fell asleep but you knew that you were just as much on Teddy's mind, as he was on your own.

You just couldn't wait for those pancakes in the morning, so you could get to the bottom of what he'd told you tonight.

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine getting into a relationship with Barbara Gordon.

Anon requested: “Batgirl (Barbara Gordon) x Male Reader, where the reader is the son of joker and is arch enemy of batgirl, but eventually they end up falling in love and they get into a secret relationship due to their allegiances but later they are found out and they’re relationships spread throughout Gotham and swear to each other to protect one another and come public with their relationship.”

.

This work contains swearing and some pretty heavy violence near the end. Also it is long.

When you see the red WARNING, it’s a sign that the violence is about to start. Skip ahead if you need to.

~~~~~~~~

Being the son of the clown prince of crime sucked. He was, to put it extremely lightly, an asshole. So you made it your job to undermine everything he did. Currently, you had your own gang and were getting ready to rob Gotham’s biggest bank.

With a loud crash, you burst through the doors of the bank with your crew, taking out the security guards posted in the room. In moments you had everyone gathered in the middle of the room.

“Alright everybody, listen up! We’re not here to hurt anybody, just to lighten the bank’s vault! So stay still and quiet, and nobody gets hurt!” Leaving two of your men to watch the hostages, you directed the rest to start emptying out the vault. Soon everything was ready to go.

“Oi, the boss said shut up! So either make the kid stop, or I shut them up myself!” You turned to see one of your henchmen, Pete, yelling at a woman and her child. The woman was trying to calm her child down to no avail.

“Pete, dear, could you come here for a minute?” The henchman looked confused, but did as you said. You took him out of sight of the hostages to where the rest of your men were emptying the last of the vault’s contents.

“What’s up boss?” You smiled sweetly at the goon.

“You know how I feel about threatening children.” Pete’s eyes widened, realizing now you had heard his threat.

“W-wait boss, please—!”

BANG. Pete fell over dead, and you put your gun back in it’s holster. Turning to the other men, you addressed them like you hadn’t just shot one of their coworkers.

“Let Pete here be an example. Don’t break my rules.” The henchmen all nodded. You rolled your eyes when they didn’t start moving. “That doesn’t mean you stop working! Grab everything and let’s get moving!”

<—>

How was it you had the worst luck? First you had to find some new henchmen (stupid Pete), then your getaway driver decided to bail—forcing your crew to steal a car—and now you had to find another window repairman. You should get a discount for the amount of times you called.

“You know, if you asked I’d give you a key to the front door. Or the roof. You don’t have to come crashing through every window.” Batgirl raised her fists, prepared to fight you if necessary.

“You’re going to Arkham clown-boy.” You placed one of your hands over your chest, feigning hurt.

“Ouch. Clown-boy. Listen, I can take being called lots of things, but that’s where I draw the line. I don’t think I can be your nemesis anymore. We’re through now.” Batgirl threw a punch but you dodged it.

“This isn’t a joke. Now are you going to come quietly or do I have to knock you out and drag you back?” You shrugged and gave her a smile.

“Oh come on, lighten up a little Batgirl! It’s not like anyone died!”

“Really? What about the goon in the clown mask?”

“Oh yeah. Forgot about him. He threatened to kill a kid cause they were crying. I don’t like people who do that.” She scoffed and threw another punch, this one connecting with your shoulder when you tried to move out of the way.

“Yet you work with your father.” You caught Batgirl’s fist and pulled her closer to you, tapping her on the nose before releasing her hand.

“Correction: I work against him. I’m currently in the process of blowing his current cash flow to pieces. Make it a little harder to buy bombs and other fun stuff.” She backed away from you and frowned.

“So you can what? Own them for yourself?” You shook your head and crossed your arms behind your back.

“Nope. I really don’t care about gang fighting and all that crap. But I’d rather not have a lunatic running the streets, you know?”

“You’re insane.”

“Technically, yes. But you know me Batgirl. When I ever committed mass murder or something like that?” Before she could answer, a knock came from the door leading out of your ‘office’.

“Boss? Is everything alright in there?” Henchmen. Always interrupting the important things. You rolled your eyes and answered.

“Everything is fine. What do you want?” There was a pause, and the goon replied with a nervous voice.

“Joker’s on the phone. Says he needs to have words with you.” Gah. Couldn’t the clown call at a later time? Preferably never?

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll pick it up in here. Go back to doing whatever it was you were doing.” The henchman confirmed this and left. Batgirl waited til the footsteps had gone before she spoke.

“Some secretary.” You raised your hands up in an ‘I guess’ gesture and walked over to the phone on your makeshift desk.

“What can I say? He’s good eye candy. Only for looking though, wouldn’t want to make you jealous.” She scoffed again, and you picked up the phone.

“Doug Dimmadome, owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome.” The voice on the other end screeched, causing you to hold the phone away from your ear. When you held it back, it was less loud but still as annoying.

“—And listen here you sarcastic little shit—” You interrupted the Joker before he could speak any more.

“I’m sorry, but it’s ‘Dr. Sarcastic little shit’. I have a doctorate in sarcasm.”

“You ruined everything! I had the perfect plan to drive Gotham mad laid out, and you ruined it!” You tapped your chin and turned towards the window, your back towards Batgirl.

“Oh yeah, I heard about that.” Your voice took on a mocking tone now. “Did the big bad Batman swoop in and disarm your little gas attack?” The Joker snarled and uttered several more expletives.

“When I get my hands on you, you’ll wish you were never born!” You chuckled into the receiver.

“Too late for that. Good talk, go take a walk off of Wayne Tower.” You hung up the phone and turned to face Batgirl once again, only to find she was gone. Huh. Maybe she got bored of waiting for you?

<—>

Finally, a night off. The bar was a little crowded but it was better than a cold warehouse full of people who probably shared one brain cell between all of them.

“Excuse me, is it okay if I sit here? Everywhere else is full.” You glanced up at the red haired woman in front of you and gave her a smile.

“Yeah! Let me just move my bag.” Once the seat was clear, you pushed it out so she could sit down. The redhead did so with a grateful smile.

“Thanks. My feet were killing me. Name’s Barbara by the way, what’s yours?”

“My name’s y/n. Nice to meet you Barbara.” Barbara tilted her head, trying to get a good look at you. For a moment you thought she recognized you from the news, but brushed that thought aside. You looked pretty different when you weren’t covered in face paint and your usual getup.

“Do you come here often? I don’t think I’ve seen your face before.”

“Nah, only when I’m not busy. Unfortunately those moments are few and far between. You?” Barbara waved down a bartender and ordered a drink.

“Usually I meet my dad here, but he’s working late tonight.” You nodded and took a sip of your own drink.

“Sounds nice. My dad would kill me if I suggested we have dinner together.” Or at the very least, put you in the hospital for a couple of months. That was assuming you would actually talk to him.

“Not a nice guy, huh?”

“That’s underestimating it, but yeah.” The two of you talked for a long time, and at the end of the night exchanged phone numbers. You probably wouldn’t call her, but it was nice to imagine.

<—>

“What the hell did you do to her?!?!” You were glaring in pure anger at your goons, all of whom were staring at you with wide eyes and pale faces.

“She snuck in boss! So we shot her—” Your hand shot out and grabbed the closest thug, the one who had shot Batgirl.

“Are you fucking idiots?!?! She works with Batman! We don’t need him breathing down our necks!” You shoved the man to the ground, running a hand through your y/h/c hair.

“Boss—”

“Shut up. I’ll deal with this myself. I swear if any of you do anything stupid while I’m gone, I’ll make the rest of your short lives hell. Is. That. Clear?” Your henchmen nodded, and you walked over to Batgirl. Picking her up bridal style, you carried her to one of the throwaway cars and loaded her into the passenger seat.

You were halfway to the hospital before you realized you couldn’t take her there. They would have to unmask her and that would most likely ruin her and any of her family’s lives. At the very least the GCPD would throw her in a jail cell.

...What was under the mask? Lots of Gotham’s thugs and lowlifes assumed the Batman was a robot or something, but what about Batgirl? You parked the car and looked at the unconscious superheroine. Surely a look couldn’t hurt?

The mask slid off easier than you expected. Your eyes widened as you saw the face of Batgirl—but you had seen her before.

“Barbara?” She groaned and opened her eyes. The first thing Barbara saw was you, your face painted and clothes covered in blood. Then she saw her mask in your hands.

“You bastard!” You raised your hands to stop her from murdering you right there and then.

“Wait Barbara, listen to me!” Barbara froze at the sound of her name.

“How the hell do you know my name?”

“Do I really look that different with face paint on?” Dropping the mask in her lap, you grabbed a towel from the backseat and scrubbed your face with it, until you were sure all the paint was gone. “Now do you recognize me?”

“You! You’re the guy from the bar!” Her surprise turned back to rage. “We’re you just spying on me? Trying to get information about me?”

“No! I didn’t know it was you, I just...I was curious. I wanted to see under your mask.” Barbara put her fist down, wincing at the pain in her side. She almost forgot, she had been shot. Her future really was in y/n’s hands now.

“So what are you going to do now?” You shrugged and drummed your fingers on the steering wheel.

“I’m not turning you in or anything. And you’re still bleeding. Do you have a place where I can drop you off, or...?” Barbara let out a sigh of relief, knowing you wouldn’t blab about her secret identity.

“I can contact Batman and he can pick me up. I just need to be dropped off somewhere.” You nodded and let her make the call, then dropped her off where she directed.

<—>

Five months.

Five months was all it took to start a relationship with Barbara Gordon. It was a rocky start, but it was easy when nobody knew your alter ego.

And it was almost a year after that, the night before your anniversary, when you received a call from the Commissioner that she was in the hospital.

A gunshot wound. The Joker has gone to her apartment and shot her. Tortured her father. All just to get back at the Batman.

You took a trip to the hospital to see Barbara, the sight of her hooked up to machines filling you with rage. When you left you drove straight to Arkham. You still had a few connections there and soon you were waiting in one of the various abandoned sub levels.

The door to the room you were in banged open and two Arkham guards dragged the Joker into the room. They threw him to the ground and looked to you for instructions.

“Leave. Call the Batman if you want. I don’t care. He stays.” The guards looked to one another, then nodded. When they left you turned to face the Joker.

“You know, I never thought you were so stupid. You may be crazy, but stupid was never really on the list. Yet you went after the commissioner’s daughter and the commissioner.”

“So what? It’s not like you had a personal stake in this.” You regarded your father with a cold expression, from his arms being restrained by a straight-jacket and to his face covered with bruises.

“You paralyzed a girl from the waist down, humiliated and tortured her father, and for what?” You grabbed his chin and leaned in close to the green haired madman. “Just so you could have the attention of the one person who you want to break? News flash asshole; He won’t pay attention to you beyond kicking your ass.” The Joker jerked his face away and gave you his signature grin.

“So what now? You drop me in Gotham Harbor? Feed me to Harley’s mongrels? Ooo, I know! Hand me over to some of Arkham’s nastiest to have a little one on one with me!” You turned away and grabbed something from the bag you brought with you.

“You might wanna close your eyes.” The Joker frowned now.

WARNING: VIOLENCE AHEAD

“What? Why—!” With a loud CRACK, the baseball bat you held connected with the side of Joker’s face. Over and over you rained blows down on him, not letting up until the bat finally broke from the stress.

You weren’t done yet. Going back to your bag you pulled out several metal spikes, their points barely sharpened. Ever-so-slowly you pinned the Joker to the floor, relishing in his grunts of pain. Once he was pinned down you pulled out your knife, a gift from (ironically) Harley for your birthday.

You carved into his skin, making sure each cut would scar permanently. But you left his face alone. You wanted people to see just who this was. That the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime, wasn’t invulnerable.

By the time you let up, the Joker was a bruised, bloody mess. He would live. His injuries would take weeks, probably months to heal. And even then he would still be in pain for the rest of his life.

VIOLENCE HAS ENDED

The Batman found you not long after. You were sitting on a crate messing with your phone. The Joker laid nearby, beaten beyond a bloody pulp and unconscious, but still breathing.

“Why did you do this?” The Batman was shocked, but didn’t show it. He almost didn’t believe anyone was capable of doing this to their father, even if he was the Joker.

“You can’t tell me he didn’t deserve it.” You put your phone away and looked up at the Batman, his face unreadable beneath the cowl.

“Why?” Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair. You really weren’t getting out of answering his question, were you?

“He hurt my girlfriend.” Batman frowned a little more.

“Who—” You cut him off before he could finish the question.

“Barbara. She and I have been dating for about a year now. He fucking shot her. This is the least I could have done to him.” Shock silenced the bat, but soon he spoke.

“...You should go see her.” You raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Not going to arrest me?” He shook his head.

“She needs you now. We’ll talk later.” You took a moment, then stood up and headed for the exit. The Batman was right.

And you needed to see how Barbara was doing.

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

[superwholock-marvel-images]

Through time and space 14

You scroll through your messages, it turns out your family went back to Bobby’s and that Dean finished up fixing the Impala. You smile when you see the picture Katie sent, the picture is of Dean leaning against the hood of the car smiling like an idiot. You dial Katie’s number and press call.

“Hey (Nickname).” Katie says answering the phone.

“Hi, so Dean actually got on a plane?” You say in response walking away from the control room.

“Yeah, about a day after you left with the Doctor. Thanks for that by the way.”

“How long did it take you to notice I was gone?”

“Not that long.” You then notice that you’re farther than you wanted to be… you somehow ended up by the swimming pool.

“Well shit.” You say, confusing Katie.

“What?” She asks.

“I went the wrong way… instead of going to my room, I ended up at the swimming pool with no idea how to get back to the control room.” Katie snickers. “Not funny Katie.”

“It kind of is.” You groan, before losing your footing for a moment. You tell your sister you’ll call her back later. You manage to find the control room again.

“What just happened?” You ask.

“She’s dead. The TARDIS is dead.” The Doctor mournfully says. You notice that Rose is gone, and you notice the green light coming from underneath the control.

“I don’t think the TARDIS is all dead just mostly dead.” You say you smile a little bit when you realize you made a Princess Bride reference. “I say that because of that blinking green light.”

“Green light?” The Doctor asks. He follows where you’re looking and starts rummaging around. “That’s all we need. We’ve got power! Y/N, Mickey, we’ve got power! Ha!” The Doctor looks like a kid at Christmas. The madman that owns the magic blue box says it lives, confusing Mickey.

“What?” Mickey asks.

“The TARDIS isn’t a machine Mickey, it’s alive.” You explain.

“It’s tiny. One of those insignificant little power cells that no one ever bothers about, and it’s clinging to life, with one little ounce of reality tucked away inside.” The Doctor says.

“Enough to get us home?” Mickey asks.

“Not yet. I need to charge it up.”

“We could go outside and lash it up to the National Grid.”

“Wrong sort of energy. It’s got to come from our universe.”

“But we don’t have anything.”

“There’s me.” The Doctor cradles the green light in his hands and blows on it. The light gets brighter. “I just gave away ten years of my life. Worth every second.”

“So the TARDIS is recharging how long does that give us?” You ask.

“24 hours give or take.”

“In that case let’s take a look around.” When the group splits up you go with Mickey instead of Rose or the Doctor.

“Why’d you come with me?” Mickey asks.

“Because I have no interest in meeting Rose’s dad or staying in the TARDIS, besides you’re always ending up forgotten, somehow.” You reply. Mickey chuckles.

“Thanks, Y/N.” He says.

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

Unsurprisingly you and Mickey get into a bit of a situation. The two of you get mistaken for someone you’re not.

“What the hell are you doing with Y/N Holmes, Ricky?” The person who snagged you and Mickey asks.

“I think you’ve gotten us confused with someone else.” You say. “I’m Y/N Winchester and this is Mickey.”

“I know the wife of Mycroft Holmes when I see her.” You wrinkle your nose slightly- why the hell would you marry Mycroft? Mickey rolls with it.

You pull your gun out of the waistband of your jeans and fire a few shots into the ceiling causing everyone to freeze. “I will put away the gun when you untie my friend and stop calling me by someone else’s name.” You say in a calm tone of voice. “Yes, my name is Y/N, however, I am not a Holmes.”

“Y/N Holmes can’t shoot worth crap boss.” One of the men says. “I reckon that we should do what she says.” The man called Ricky reluctantly agrees. They free Mickey he looks a bit scared of you.

“Do you always keep that thing on you?” He asks.

“Pretty much. Now, let’s figure out what in hell’s name is happening.”

After awhile everyone is reunited and the Doctor explains Cybermen. “This day keeps getting better and better.” You sarcastically state.

“Y/N.” Rose says. “Not the time.” You roll your eyes as your phone goes off. You dig it out of your pocket and look at the contact and just simply turn off your phone.

“They don’t need to know about this.” You mutter as you put your phone away.

“Your family?”

“Yeah.” You then notice all the people lined up outside on the street. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Take a look.” Everyone does so and the look the Doctor has on his face is ‘oh shit’ once out of the van you go with Rose, the Doctor, and Pete (Rose’s dad). The four of you duck in an alleyway behind trash cans. The Doctor uses his sonic to confuse the Cybermen walking past.

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

Mickey says he doesn’t want to be the tin dog anymore. “What do you mean by a tin dog?” You ask. Mickey shakes his head not answering the question.

“If we survive this, I’ll see you back at the TARDIS.” The Doctor says, grabbing your arm and running off with you and Mrs. Moore. The three of you head to the cooling tunnels. You button up the flannel you’re wearing, glad that you decided to wear one of your brothers’.

“It’s freezing.” Mrs. Moore says.

“Any sign of a light switch?” The Doctor asks.

“No, nothing.” You reply.

“I’ve got these. A device for every occasion.” Mrs. Moore hands both you and the Doctor a flashlight on a headband. Both of you put them on.

“Haven’t got a hotdog in there, have you? I’m starving.” The Doctor says causing you to roll your eyes.

“Of all the things to wish for. That’s mechanically recovered meat.”

“I know. It’s the Cyberman of food, but it’s tasty.”

“Doctor focus.” You say.

“Right, of course, sorry Y/N.” The Doctor replies. “Let’s see where we are.” Cybermen line the walls. You let out a small gasp. “Already converted, just put on ice. Come on.”

“Are you sure those things aren’t activated?” You ask. The man from the planet Gallifrey taps on a face of a Cyberman. No reaction.

“Let’s go slowly. Keep an eye out for trip systems.” The Doctor advises. He then makes small talk with Mrs. Moore. “How did you get into this, then, rattling along with the Preachers?”

“Oh, I used to be ordinary. Worked at Cybus Industries, nine to five, until one day, I find something I’m not supposed to. A file on the mainframe. All I did was read it. Then suddenly I’ve got men with guns knocking in the middle of the night. Life on the run. Then I found the Preachers. They needed a techie, so I just sat down and taught myself everything.” Mrs. Moore replies.

“What about Mr. Moore?”

“Well, he’s not called Moore. I got that from a book, Mrs. Moore. It’s safer not to use real names. But he thinks I’m dead. It was the only way to keep him safe. Him and the kids. What about you two? Got any family, or…?”

“I’ve got three older siblings. Mom died when I was little and my dad died fairly recently.” You reply.

“Oh, who needs a family? I’ve got the whole world on my shoulders. Go on, then. What’s your real name?” The Doctor adds in.

“Angela Price. Don’t tell a soul.” Mrs. Moore, well Angela replies.

“Your secret is safe with us.” You say.

“Doctor, did that one just move?” Angela asks shining her flashlight at one of the Cybermen.

“It’s just the torchlight. Keep going, come on.” The Doctor replies as another Cyberman comes towards you three. “They’re waking up. Run!”

The three of you climb up a latter to somewhere safer at least for the moment. The Doctor seals the trapdoor with his screwdriver. You guys walk along a corridor where there’s a lone Cyberman. “You are not upgraded.” It says.

“Yeah? Well, upgrade this.” Angela retorts. She throws a small rod with copper wire wrapped around it at the Cyberman. It sticks to the metal and the Cyberman jerks, then sparks and collapses.

“What the hell was that thing?” You ask.

“Electromagnetic bomb. Takes out computers, I figured it might stop the cyber-suit.”

“You figured right. Now, let’s have a look. Know your enemy. A logo on the front. Lumic’s turned them into a brand. Heart of steel, but look.” The Doctor replies as he removes the logo boss on the chest. Inside is not just electronics.

“Is that flesh?!” You ask, your voice an octave higher than normal.

“Hmmm. Central nervous system. Artificially grown then threaded throughout the suit so it responds like a living thing. Well, it is a living thing. Oh, but look. Emotional inhibitor. Stops them feeling anything.”

“Why?” Angela asks.

“It’s still got a human brain. Imagine its reaction if it could see itself, realize itself inside this thing. They’d go insane.”

“So they cut out the one thing that makes them human.”

“Because they have to.”

“I’m going to be sick.” You declare. Seems like nobody hears you because the Cyberman starts to speak.

“Why am I cold?” You almost start to cry- there is still a human somewhere in that Cyberman suit.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The Doctor mutters.

“Why so cold?”

“Can you remember your name?”

“Sally. Sally Phelan.”

“You were a woman…” You say in a soft yet broken voice.

“Where’s Gareth?” The Cyberman, well Sally asks.

“Who’s Gareth?” The Doctor asks.

“He can’t see me. It’s unlucky the night before.” You’re heart literally shatters. This woman was going to be married before she the Cybermen ‘upgraded’ her. “I’m cold. I’m so cold.”

“It’s all right. You sleep now, Sally. Just go to sleep.” The Doctor says, as he puts the sonic screwdriver inside the chest cavity and switches her off. “Sally Phelan didn’t die for nothing because that’s the key. The emotional inhibitor. If we could find the code behind it, the cancellation code, then feed it throughout the system into every Cyberman’s head, they’d realize what they are.”

When Angela stands up, a Cyberman grabs her shoulders and electrocutes her. “Sensors detect a binary vascular system. You are an unknown upgrade. You will be taken for analysis.” The Cyberman says to the both of you. You share a look with the Doctor, you’re glad that you’re not dead (yet) but you’re also confused about why you’re not dead. You should’ve read as a human on the Cyberman’s sensors.

“We’ve been captured, but don’t worry, Rose and Pete are still out there. They can rescue us.” The Doctor tells you as the two of you are lead to a control room. Unfortunately Rose and Pete are already there. “Oh well, never mind. You okay?”

“Yeah. But they got Jackie.” Rose answers.

“Where’s Mickey then?” You ask. Rose shrugs. Pete says that his boss upgraded her. The Doctor then asks where is the man in charge of all of this. He comes out as a Cyberman in an upgraded wheelchair.

The Doctor talks for awhile before saying: “Oh, Lumic, you’re a clever man. I’d call you a genius, except I’m in the room. But everything you’ve invented, you did to fight your sickness. And that’s brilliant. That is so human. But once you get rid of sickness and mortality, then what’s there to strive for, eh? The Cybermen won’t advance. You’ll just stop. You’ll stay like this forever. A metal Earth with metal men and metal thoughts, lacking the one thing that makes this planet so alive. People. Ordinary, stupid, brilliant people.”

“You are proud of your emotions.” The Cyberman in the wheelchair points out.

“Oh, yes.”

“Then tell me, Doctor. Have you known grief, and rage, and pain?”

“Yes. Yes, I have.”

“And they hurt?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I could set you free. Would you not want that? A life without pain?”

“You might as well kill me.”

“Then I take that option.”

“Doctor?” You ask. The time lord throws you a look, shutting you up.

“It’s not yours to take. You’re a Cyber Controller. You don’t control me or anything with blood in its heart.” The Doctor says to the Cyberman.

“You have no means of stopping me. I have an army. A species of my own.” The Cyberman explains.

“You just don’t get it, do you? An army’s nothing. Because those ordinary people, they’re the key. The most ordinary person could change the world.” You manage a scared smile. “Some ordinary man or woman, some idiot. All it takes is for him to find, say- the right numbers. The right codes. For example, the code behind the emotional inhibitor. The code right in front of him.”

“What’s he doing?” You whisper to Rose. Your best friend shrugs in response.

“Even an idiot knows how to use computers these days.” The Doctor states, you then realize he’s referring to Mickey. “Knows how to get past firewalls and passwords. Knows how to find something encrypted in the Lumic Family Database, under er… what was it, Pete? Binary what?”

“Binary Nine.” Pete replies.

“An idiot could find that code. Cancellation code and he’d keep on typing. Keep on fighting. Anything to save his friends.”

“Your words are irrelevant.” The head Cyberman says. The Doctor shrugs.

“Yeah, talk too much, that’s my problem. Lucky I got you that cheap tariff, Rose, for all our long chats.”

“You will be deleted.”

“Yes. Delete, control, hash. All those lovely buttons. Then, of course, my particular favorite, send. And let’s not forget how you seduced all those ordinary people in the first place.” Rose’s phone goes off, she pulls it out of her pocket and looks at it. “By making every bit of technology compatible with everything else.”

“It’s for you.” Rose says handing the Doctor her phone.

“Like this.” The Doctor puts the phone into a docking station, which it miraculously fits. The code is transmitted and the Cybermen cry out in pain. The code appears on every computer screen. Cybermen everywhere look like they are in pain. The Doctor gave the converted Cybermen back their humanity.

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

“I have never been more happy to see that big blue box.” You say. Your moment of happiness is gone when you hear Mickey say that he would like to stay behind in this parallel world to look after his gran. The Doctor hands Mickey, Rose’s phone so he can continue destroying the Cybermen in this world.

“I guess if we ever get stuck here again we have some allies on our side.” You say with a watery smile. “Guess we’ll see you around Mick.”

“Look after those siblings of yours Y/N.” Mickey replies pulling you into a brief hug. With that, you walk into the TARDIS.

The TARDIS lands in the Tyler’s flat and Rose pulls her mother into a hug, relieved that she’s okay.

“Where’s Mickey?” Jackie asks.

“He went home.” You answer. “Thinking of home, I should get back to my family.”

“Need a lift?” The Doctor asks.

“Yeah. That would be great.”

______

@haletotheking22

@the-third-winchester-warrior

@flannels-and-rocksalt

@always-keep-writing-spn

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@caroldanversinatardis

@spnnolifegirl

@thewinsisterchronicles

@simply-wins-little-sis

@moose-and-sqruille-lover

@platonic-plots

[whumpster-in-a-dumpster]

Whumptober 18 - ‘Muffled Scream’

Characters: Peter Petrelli, Nathan Petrelli

Fandom: Heroes

Well. This got...long. Like, very, very long. I knew where I wanted to end up with the ‘muffled scream’ part of the story, but ehhhh...I got sidetracked. Somehow I think you’ll probably forgive me. Who doesn’t love watching two brothers get interrogated in front of each other when only one of them knows the truth?

Also I started writing this at midnight. It’s now 03:25...good job I work nights 😉

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Nathan tried the ropes that held his arms suspended at either side of his head again, to no avail. His wrists and ankles were bound tightly to the metal piping behind him, and the cords were beginning to bite into his skin. The pipes rattled as he strained against them, but didn’t budge. The basement was cold, and stank of damp and rotting wood. Across the little space, Peter still lay curled against the wall, his arms cuffed behind his back and strapped to his sides with what must have been half a roll of tape. Nathan shivered – it had to have been almost an hour since they’d been dragged down here, and his sweat-stained shirt and dress pants did nothing to keep in any warmth. His legs were stiff from standing or leaning against the wall. His mouth was dry, and he had to clear his throat before calling out to Peter for the tenth time in as many minutes.

“Peter. Pete. Come on, buddy, wake up. You gotta wake up, man, I’m…losing my mind over here…”

Finally, finally, Peter stirred, curling in on himself with a faint groan of protest. Nathan started up, standing straighter.

“Pete! Hey! Hey, wake up now. You okay?”

“nnn…Nathan?”

Peter looked blearily up at him from the floor, but before Nathan could answer, the door at the top of the basement stairway opened quickly and two men descended into the bare lamplight. Nathan recognised them as the pair who’d pulled the brothers from the car – the taller one, the sallow man with the sharp sideburns, was leading the way, trailing a cattle prod behind him. As the other, a blonde man in jeans and a beat-up jacket, moved behind him to kneel down by Peter, the sallow man smiled at Nathan. It was not an encouraging smile. Nathan ignored him and shouted to the other,

“Hey! What did you do to him? Hey – Stop! Leave him alone!”  

The blonde man grabbed hold of Peter’s collar and dragged him up onto his knees as Peter struggled weakly. Reaching down, he produced a small syringe from inside his jacket pocket. Nathan jerked against the pipes uselessly, then turned to the first man, changing tack.

“Look, if – if this is about money, I promise you, we’re worth more to you in one piece. However much you want, if you just let us go I swear I’ll make sure you get it. No, stop, just – !”

He could do nothing as the blonde man pulled Peter’s head to one side, ignoring Peter’s pleas to stop as he injected the contents of the syringe into Peter’s neck. He pushed Peter down roughly and the younger Petrelli fell back, sprawling awkwardly with his arms still trapped behind him as he struggled to scramble back against the wall.

“God, you really don’t ever stop talking, do you, Petrelli?” The sallow man asked, shaking his head at Nathan with that same sick smile. His accent was a slow southern drawl that somehow suited his long, hollow features.

“Wh-what did you do to me?” Peter gasped, pushing himself up clumsily against a corner of the basement.

“Power suppressant.” The man said, turning around and crossing the room as if he had all the time in the world. Peter pressed himself further against the wall on instinct, drawing his knees up. “Nifty little thing. I’d imagine this whole scenario would go a little different if you could use any of those borrowed abilities of yours.”

“Y-You know about that?” Peter shifted, trying to hide his attempts to pull free of his bindings. At the same time, he tried to reach down inside himself for anything that might help them – telekinesis, electrokinesis, even a quick time-stop, if he could manage it. But he couldn’t; he could feel the powers still there under the surface, but each time he reached for them they receded, like water through sand.

“Sure we do. And I’m guessing by the fact that we’re not both plastered over the back wall that that concoction’s doing its job.”

“Who are you people?” Nathan called, trying to pull attention away from his brother. “What do you want from us?”

The man turned back to him with a look that almost made Nathan wish he hadn’t asked.

“Who are we?” He replied icily. “We’re the ones that you and your little group of upstarts turned their backs on. The ones you lock away ‘cause we’re too dangerous to be left out here. The ones you put into cages and prod and poke so you can do your research.”

He walked forwards as he spoke until he and Nathan were almost nose to nose. He stank of sweat and cigarette smoke and unwashed clothes, and Nathan flinched back even as his heart dropped into his stomach.

“Nathan, what’s he talking about?” Peter asked shakily.

“I don’t know, Pete.” Nathan said steadily, finding it in himself to maintain eye contact with the man in front of him. “Look,” he added, lowering his tone – speak quiet, stay personal, engender some trust – “I don’t know what you’ve heard or what you mean by research, but my family and I have nothing to do with –”

He cut off with a muted grunt as the man punched him viciously across the mouth, swinging him against his restraints. Nathan reeled sideways, tasting blood.

“Anyone ever tell you that lying is a sin?” The man hissed into his ear. Nathan took a moment, hoping that the room would stop rocking.

“I swear I don’t –”

The next blow caught him in the stomach, knocking the air out of him. He doubled over as much as he was able, which wasn’t far, trying to gasp as his diaphragm cramped up.

“Every word that comes out of your mouth is a bald-faced lie.” The man said, disgusted. Then he laughed, stepping back. “Although, I guess it’s just inherent for your family now, right? Bred right into the genes?”

He turned to Peter as Nathan was still struggling to straighten up, coughing as air came back to him slowly.

“How about you, golden boy?” He asked, kneeling down to be on Peter’s level. “You treading the Petrelli party line?”

Peter swallowed, lifting his chin obstinately.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, earnestly. “The people who did the kind of research you’re talking about, they’re shut down. The Company doesn’t exist any more–”

“The Company!” The man shook his head, exchanging an incredulous stare with his partner. “Primatech Paper? Bunch of Men In Black wannabes with a superiority complex? No, no, I’m not talking about them, I’m talking about the real bad guys, the ones who don’t bother with the bagging and tagging. The ones who only let you out when they’ve drained you dry and sent you on your way with a bullet in your head, and your family –”

He half-turned, staring accusingly at both of them with eyes wide and maddened, “ – Your family are the ones who sign their cheques!”

“Th- That’s insane.” Nathan managed to choke out around the pain in his stomach, feeling blood leaking from his split lip.

“Is it now?” The man turned slowly back to Peter. “What’s Building 26?”

Peter shook his head slowly.

“I don’t know.”

The man nodded, and reached out. The cattle prod, which he’d left leaning against the base of the stairs, jumped into his hands. He weighed it in his grip for a moment, savouring the way both Nathan and Peter tensed instinctively.

“What do you think, Caleb?” He asked the blonde man. “Think you can trust a Petrelli to tell the truth?”

“Not without a little help.” The blonde man said smoothly, his voice high and quiet.

“Reckon that’s a safe bet.” He nodded twice, then jammed the metal prongs against Peter’s chest. Electricity crackled and Peter cried out in shock, every muscle contracting taut as Nathan threw himself against the restraints, yelling, threatening, pleading with them to stop. Finally, after what felt like minutes but in truth couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, the man cut off the flow and Peter collapsed back, panting.

“Let’s try a different question.” He said calmly. “Where is Building 26?”

“I…don’t know what that is –”

Immediately the man moved his wrist, and this time Peter screamed as the cattle prod was pushed into his stomach. He bucked once then fell awkwardly, stiff and immobile. Nathan threw caution to the wind and tried to take off, throwing his full strength at the ropes. His feet left the ground, but the bonds were too tight, pinning him to the wall. He stopped only when he felt his wrists were about to snap, thudding back to the ground.

“Anything to say, Congressman?” The blonde man asked Nathan quietly, pulling his attention away from watching his brother jerk helplessly on the floor. The words came out of Nathan’s mouth before he even had time to think about them – perhaps they were right, maybe lying was instinctive at this point.

“I’ve never heard of any Building 26! Look, you don’t know what you’re doing, and I swear to god if you don’t stop –”

The blonde man had his hand around Nathan’s throat before he could finish the sentence, eyes burning with hate. No, it wasn’t his imagination – there was a deep orange light somewhere behind his pupils, and suddenly Nathan’s throat was burning; white, scorching heat like a fire pressed against his skin –

“You gonna tell me it doesn’t exist, huh? You gonna tell me my sister wound up dead on the side of the road by pure coincidence? You and your black books initiative killed her, and you are gonna pay –”

Nathan’s knees were giving out – he squeezed his eyes shut but white sparks were starting to dance behind his eyelids. The fire in his throat was everything, that and the roaring in his ears…

And then the pressure was gone and he was left to drop limply against his restraints, head spinning and blackness still creeping in at the edge of his vision. He came to with a racking cough that he couldn’t stop, involuntary tears springing to his eyes. Caleb had stepped back, the sallow man’s hand on his shoulder.

“Easy, Caleb.” He was saying. “We still need big brother to be able to talk.” He looked back at Nathan, all humour gone from his face.

“Maybe your little brother here really doesn’t know anything. He seems like the kind of guy who could probably come up with any excuse for what you’ve done. But you know. I can see it already.”

Nathan, breathless, looked helplessly at Peter, who’d pulled himself onto his knees and was looking up at Nathan with worry – not worry for himself, Nathan realised with that now-familiar swoop of guilt, even though Peter’s shirt was charred through and the skin underneath burned red-raw. No, he was worried about Nathan. About what they’d do to him. If Nathan had spoken sooner…but how would he look at Nathan, if he had known?

“You’re gonna tell me.” The sallow man said, all traces of good humour gone. “You’re gonna tell me, or I’m gonna kill him, right now. And I’ll tell you what, he may not be able to piece himself back together right now, but I’m still gonna make sure it takes a while.”

“Nathan,” Peter interrupted. They all turned to him, and he hesitated, then clenched his jaw, finding some resolution in himself as he looked at his brother with defiance in his eyes. “Whatever this thing is, whatever’s going on…if it’s a secret worth keeping, don’t give them a goddamn thing. Don’t give them anything!” He shouted as the blonde man snarled and grabbed him, hauling him up as he snatched the roll of tape from a table in the corner. “I trust you, Nathan! Don’t give them anything! Don’t -!”

His shouts were muffled as Caleb roughly bound the tape over his mouth and around his head. Peter kept struggling, turning his head and shoulders and trying to shake the man off, but the tape was wound three times around his jaw before Caleb finally tore it off and kicked Peter brutally to the floor, then kept kicking him as Peter tried to cover up as best he could with his arms still tied. Nathan clenched his fists tight, trying to hide the way his arms were shaking, flinching as if the blows were landing on him instead.

“What do you think, Petrelli?” The sallow man said quietly. “Is it a secret worth keeping? Is it worth your brother’s life?”

“I – ” Nathan wavered; his heart was beating too fast and hard in his ears for him to think clearly. He felt sick with fear. His eyes met Peter’s as the kicking finally stopped and Peter dragged in a painful breath, reading the mix there of courage and pain and terror.

The sallow man shrugged. “Guess it is. That’s pretty cold, man, I gotta say.”

He changed something on the cattle prod – twisted some dial on the handle, and now when he pulled the trigger a bright blue bolt of light jumped between the prongs.

“But what can you expect from a Petrelli.”

“No, wait – ”

But the man didn’t stop – he took a step towards Peter and rammed the prod down between his shoulder blades. Peter let out a muffled scream and contorted, lurching out ramrod straight, arms wrenched back unnaturally far.

“STOP! STOP, GOD, PLEASE, PLEASE STOP, I’LL – I’ll tell you everything! I’ll tell you everything I know, just please god let him go.”

The electricity cut off. Even through the layers of tape, Nathan could hear Peter’s whimpering, laboured breaths. His own cheeks were running with tears that he couldn’t stop, every inch of him trembling. The two men looked at him, waiting. Even now, there was a tiny part of him that held back, tried to remind him what was on the line if he spoke, but Peter…oh, god, Peter.

“You’re right.” Nathan said heavily. “You’re right about Building 26. You’re right about me.”

The sallow man smiled humourlessly, and moved to lean against the cattle prod, uncomfortably close.

“Go on…”

[sweetguillermo]

“Come any closer and I’ll shoot, don’t fucking tempt me. Daddypool over here could use a couple ‘a headshots.”

Even with the mask on, Peter knew Wade well enough to know that the other man had no intention of being cruel, his hard exterior little more than a front - a means of protection from those who stared at him with disdain. 

To them, the jaded crowd of pedestrians, the ex-mercenary was inhuman; an otherworldly beast, present only to plague their collective existences. They didn’t see behind the bloodied mask, but when they could, they would muster nothing more than disgust, aiming it at the man like a barbed spear. 

The irony was nothing short of painful- they saw him as a bloodthirsty murderer, but the only weapons drawing blood were those of which they so proudly held.

Equipped in full suit, katanas and all, Wade could only stand and watch as they circled him. They were no angry mob, brandishing not much more than cellphones and cameras, but they scowled at him with contempt and nothing less. They only came so close, retaining a couple of meters of distance, because at the end of the day, he’d end any of them if they stepped to close. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t affected by their resentment. 

Peter stood to Wade’s left, the silver webbing along his suit glinting in the sunlight. The gunman him and Wade had just downed was curled at their feet, mouth bound by a gag and arms webbed to the pavement. He’d attempted to open fire three blocks down from Times Square, and if it hadn’t been for Wade spotting the poorly-concealed semi-automatic on his person, they wouldn't have been able to stop him in time. 

And that, unfortunately, was what the general public just couldn’t see- the side of Wade Wilson that was genuinely trying to change, to make a name for himself that didn’t just involve senseless contract killing. It was Deadpool that had potentially saved hundreds of lives, who had been on the ground and incapacitating the offender before Spiderman had even realized what was happening. 

The truth of the matter was that these days, Deadpool did nearly as much good as Peter. He was out on patrols daily, covering for Peter when he had to put in extra hours at the Bugle, but regardless, his previous reputation stained every life he saved and innocent he protected like wine, insidiously seeping into each one of his actions and marring his perceived intentions. 

Years prior, the media had a field day when they’d initially broke the story of the Spiderman-Deadpool partnership, taking the opportunity to make absurd claims about Spiderman’s ‘switch to the dark side’, and how they had been right all along about the hero’s intentions. There hadn’t been a paper in the greater New York area that wasn’t plastered with obscene rumours about the two of them. And yet, not one paper commented on Deadpool’s informal resignation from mercenary work, or the unofficial Avengers membership status granted by Stark himself. 

Instead, the papers chose to continuously frame him as a killer- unchanging, unrelenting, and insane. They chose to ignore the dozens of lives he saved daily, chose to accuse Spiderman of endangering the city by inviting the mercenary to stay. The truth of the matter was that Wade had been working towards change, towards using his powers in a more socially responsible manner even though it meant going against his every instinct. 

Peter could see the effort, could see how fucking hard the other man was trying in every way possible to be better. Wade tried, and though there were slip ups, and the occasional accidental murder, he was usually successful in refraining from maiming or permanently injuring enemies, instead opting to disarm them for the police to deal with.

And yet, regardless of his effort, of his blatant character change, the public still stared at him like some sort of freak, some sort of villain. Even standing next to their beloved Spiderman and the mass-murderer he’d just taken down, their loaded gazes firing loathing, disgust, hatred. 

“C’mon, ‘Pool,” Peter muttered, motioning towards the sidewalk, “Police are gonna be here soon, they’ll take care of this guy. Lets head out for food or something, huh?”

It was a struggle to keep his voice gentle, the unadulterated judgement emanating from the crowd of pedestrians provoking the anger expanding against his ribs. He once looked at Wade like that- when they had first met, when he hadn’t yet gotten to know the tender person beneath the leather costume. Part of him resented himself for ever thinking such a thing about Wade, and the other part just wanted to slap some sense into the deluded onlookers, make them see what he saw in the older man. 

Wade nodded, eyes trained defensively on their audience, before following Peter out of the commotion. The two of them were watched by wary eyes as they paced the streets, but there were no comments, no brave soul willing to approach.

No one wanted to bother Spiderman if Deadpool was around. It was both a blessing and a curse. 

They stopped at some tiny pizza joint sandwiched between a dry cleaner’s and a convenience store, grabbing a box to go and bailing as soon as possible, knowing that shopkeepers didn’t exactly enjoy having mercenaries (ex or not) as customers. 

The two men only travelled a couple of paces further before scaling an apartment complex, because unless they were unfairly high up, eating in peace as Deadpool and Spiderman wouldn’t go without garnering some sort of negative attention. 

Peter reached the top of the building first, tossing the pizza box onto an air conditioning unit as he waited for Wade, who threw his body over the roofs edge with little reserve. He pulled himself to his feet, adjusted one of his swords, and sauntered over to where Peter had settled. Wade left a few meters of space between them, and the distance was beyond uncomfortable for Peter, who was more than accustomed to Wade’s penchant for being as close as he could possibly get away with. 

Muscles still rigid from before, the ex-merc hardly reacted as Peter yanked his mask off, pitching it to the side and grabbing a slice of pizza. It was unusual, Wade not reacting in some capacity when the mask finally came off. At the very least, there should’ve been a whistle, a wink- something. The dead silence didn't sit well, caused his stomach to stir. 

He took a bite, dark eyes watching as Wade continued to stand still. “Hey man, take a slice. There’s no way you’re not starving after all that.” 

Only four storeys up, the wind wasn’t substantially stronger than it had been when they were level. But Wade’s continued wordless demeanour cut right through him, sent chills up his spine. 

When the other man finally opened his mouth, his voice was hard, vulnerable in a way Peter hadn’t ever heard before.

“What’s the point, Pete?”

The sun was beginning to set, casting a pale orange hue over the maroon planes of Wade’s suit. He stood with his back straight, chest puffed, a sign of external pride and confidence even though Peter knew that he was feeling neither of those things internally. For Wade, it was all about appearance, what others thought of him- more specifically, what others hated about him. He fed off of the negativity, took every bad thing said about him and convinced himself it was true. He truly, truly believed he was a monster- an irredeemable creature that was better off with a bullet through the skull.

It broke Peter’s heart. 

“If I’m killin’ the people they pay me to kill, they call me a maniac. If I’m savin’ their sorry asses, they call me disgusting. If I’m on my own, they think I'm about to shoot ‘em up or something. And if I’m with you, they’re convinced that I’ve brainwashed you or hurt you or turned ya evil and-” Wade, who’d been frozen in space up until that moment, began to pace back and forth, creating a warped oval of footsteps as words tumbled out of his mouth, “And there’s no point, is there? Me doin’ this? I could be fucking hot dudes in Australia, eating like a fucking king in Dubai- what am I doing here? If no one gives a shit, what the fuck am I doing here?”

Peter watched as he ripped a dagger from its hip-sheath, glaring at it only briefly before whipping it forwards into the ground. It stood up, perfectly adjacent to the roof it stuck out of. 

Having dropped his slice of pizza at the beginning of Wade’s rant, Peter waited until the man marinated in his temper before approaching, movements slow and steady and careful. The last thing he wanted was to make this harder than it needed to be. 

“You’re here with me, yeah? Figured out a long time ago that I couldn’t take New York on my own- actually have a shot now, with you as my partner.”

Wade’s shoulders hunched forwards, spine curving as he shifted his weight. Peter interpreted the motion as permission to take another few steps forwards, reaching a hand out to delicately brush at the other man’s wrist. 

When Wade didn’t throw himself off the building at the contact (which had, in fact, happened in the past, and wasn’t something Peter ever needed a repeat of), Peter moved even closer. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Wade’s chest, could smell the thick aroma of leather that wafted from his suit. 

“You’re here for me, being a better person for me and like- hey, maybe I’m not the best person out there but like, everything you’re doing? Just because they can’t see it doesn’t mean I don’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it more than I’d like to admit.” Carefully, so as to not startle the man, Peter leaned forwards, pressing his forehead against Wade’s collarbone. His enhanced hearing picked up a nearly imperceptible increase in heart-rate, but otherwise Wade didn’t react. 

“Doesn’t matter if they don’t see it, Wade,” Peter insisted, eyes fluttering shut as he close the little distance between their bodies in a barely-there hug, “Because I see it, all of it, and I love it. I love how you’re trying, how much good you’ve been doing. It’s unfair that they can’t see it and I’m sorry, they fucking suck, I get it. But I see it, and I’m sorry if that’s not enough.”

And, as though he’d done it thousands of times before, Wade pulled Peter tightly against his chest, masked face buried into the fluff of his hair. 

“Course you’re enough, baby boy,” Wade rumbled, grip against the younger man’s bones tight- comforting in a way that couldn’t be put into words. 

The sun had disappeared behind a high-rise by the time the two of them parted, their hands still entwined after their bodies separated. They ate together in silence, the contact feeling as natural as anything. 

The headlines and the disgust and the judgement would always be brutal, Peter knew, but watching as Wade tugged his own mask off to smile over at Peter, he had a feeling they’d be just fine. 

[iamkatehardy]

K.O. (Tommy Conlon x Reader)

Reposting this BECAUSE FUCK YOU FOR FLAGGING ME BECAUSE OF TOMMY’S NIPPLES , TUMBLR, THAT’S WHY. ( Should rewrite it, but I’m posting this just as it the original, because t was one of the first ones ❤ And I’m proud of my newbie mistakes 😂)

Requested by @bxbblesstuff

Warnings: Swearing, violence

Author’s Notes: First time writing on Tommy Conlon, hope you like it! This is a One-Shot only, at least for now. Feedback is appreciated,as always, and all your requests will be written as soon as possible!

Another stressful day at work. Even though that wasn’t your dream, and that you’d be laid off in no time due to the crisis in the company, you worked overtime once again. Bills didn’t pay themselves, and food didn’t magically appear on the table.

When you finished what you had to do, you drove to the gym. You changed fast in the bathroom, there was no such thing as “Girls’ Shower Room”, as there were no girls beside you in there. Then you rushed to the ring.

“I know Pete, I’m late, and I’m sorry, but my boss has been a pain in the ass lately…” – You sighed, tying your hair.

“Look, I agreed to help you, but I need you to be into this at 100% if you want me to keep doing it, ok? I hate wasting my time.” – He said, wrapping your hands for the practice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to waste your time…” – You put on your mouthpiece, giving him an apologetic look.

“Training for Sparta kept me busy, so this time, and only this time, I’ll let it go, rookie. Next time I’m done coaching you.”

The gym was mostly empty that late at night, and you liked it like that: it meant no prying eyes or misogynous comments, at least aside from Pete’s.

You were practicing for some time when you heard the door, the person entering the gym irritated Mad Dog, who now threw harder punches, that you were supposed to block, if you hadn’t been inattentive, which was the number one mistake in MMA, boxing or any other way of fighting.

You failed blocking one of Mad Dog’s angry punches, and he knocks you on the floor.

“Damn, (Y/N), where’s your fucking head at?”

A little bit disoriented from the punch, you clean the blood coming out of our nose.

“No, where’s YOUR fucking head at?” – The man who had just come in the gym enters the ring, approaching Mad Dog, looking into his eyes, face inches apart from his.

“Spare me this ridiculous act, this is not your business…” – Mad Dog snarled, bitterly.

The man scratched his head, and putted his forehead on Mad Dog’s.

“Get the fuck out of here, if you care for your own good, before I lose it, alright?” – He pushed Mad Dog, who stepped further, not pleased at all.

“And you, I’m fucking done with you!” – Mad Dog pointed his finger at you, while you managed to stop the bleeding; He then grabbed his things and stormed out of the gym.

“Are you alright?”- The man asked, kneeling near you, checking the small cut on your cheek.

You took your mouthpiece off and got up sighing.

“I’m fine, don’t worry…”

“Well, Mad Dog doesn’t go easy on the punches, so maybe we should check that out.” – He approached you.- “I’m Tommy by the way, Tommy Conlon.” – He extended his hand to you.

You took his hand and shook it steadily, muffling a giggle.

“Tommy Conlon, like the one who aspired to go to Sparta, and kicked Mad Dog’s ass  in this same ring? THAT Tommy Conlon?”

“Yeah, that one… And you were about to watch part two of that fight, live… But the important now is to take care of that…” – Tommy was not a soft guy, but he had seen his share of women getting beaten when he was a kid, and it was something that messed with him pretty bad.

“Listen, Tommy, thank you so much, but I’m fine, really.” – You grabbed your stuff. – “ Oh, and I’m (Y/N, by the way, nice to meet you.” – You smiled.

“Well, (Y/N), will you still say that in the morning, when you’re purple and swollen, like a beet?” – He leaned against the ropes, shrugging.

“Maybe not…” – You rolled your eyes and laughed.

“Then let me get some ice and the first-aid kit, will you?” – He got of the ring to get them, and you sat in a bench nearby.

He kneeled in front of you , cleaning of the blood , trying to be gentle even if he wasn’t used to it. You winced.

“I know it hurts, I’m sorry, but it’s necessary…” – He carefully kept doing it, and then gave you the ice.

“What are you even doing here this late?” – You pressed the ice on your face

“A thank you would do too, miss…” – He chuckled and sat by your side.

“Sorry, you’re right! Thank you.” – You smiled and looked at him. – “But I’m still curious, usually the gym is empty at this time of the day…”

“What could I possible be doing here? Practicing for Sparta… I’ve been practicing with my father coaching me, but we had some problems and I needed to unwind, so I came here on my own… But that’s odd that YOU ask. What are YOU doing here? I don’t see a lot of women around, I must say.”

“I want to make it to the Women’s Football League.”

“Shouldn’t you be playing football then?” – He asked, confused.

“If you want a place there, you’ve got to step up your game. It takes a lot of focus, and physical strength, those both are things that fighting can help me with… And well, when your whole life is a mess, it’s a great stress reliever as well.” – You turned to him. – “If I can keep up with you big boys on the ring, then I can keep up with girls in the field, right?”

“Yeah, right, but these mad men don’t play (Y/N).”

“And who said I do play, Mr. Conlon?”

He held his hands up, as surrendering, and smiled.

“I’m not a rookie, as Mad Dog loves to call me. My father passed away when I was a kid; at school no one made my life any easier either. I figured I needed to know how to defend myself, protect myself, and release all the frustration…” – You looked down. – “Football is my main goal now, but I’ve been fighting for fifteen years now, Tommy, I don’t play either. I’m half of your size, so no, I obviously can’t beat you or Mad Dog, or any guy here, but I do what I want when it comes to fighting someone with my size. I’m not here to fight, just to practice. So why not practicing with someone with my size, you may wonder, and the answer is simple, in fact. I’ve been told this same gym is where the very best are, and if I have a goal, a dream, the best are the ones I want to work with.”

He had to admit your courage and determination were admirable, although you were probably a little bit crazy at the same time, but he liked that about you too.

“I’m sorry if I sounded insane…” – You looked back up and smiled.

“You didn’t, and even if you did, you wouldn’t be more insane than I am anyway, so it’s ok.”

You got up, picking your gym bag from the bench.

“Thank you once again Tommy, but I should probably get going home.”

“Wait, I bet you’re still dizzy from the punch, it’s not good idea to drive right now. Let me take you, you come and pick your car tomorrow, ok?” – He got up.

“I…” – You scratched your head. –  I definitely could take that, actually, yeah.. Thank you.”

He grabbed his bag and then took yours in his hand as well, walking you to his car. His actions that night impressed you; you never expected sympathy from anyone, especially people you just met.

It was a quit ride; you could tell he wasn’t talkative, but that was fine, you weren’t much of a talked either.

“Well, it’s here.” – You pointed to your apartment and unfastened your seatbelt. – “Do you want to come in?”

He didn’t know exactly whether to accept or decline, as he was a socially awkward kind of guy, so he hesitated for a second.

“Besides football and throwing punches, I’m pretty great with cakes, I have a cat named Ninja who’d love you, and I don’t bite unless I’m asked to. Also, I don’t usually take no for answers.” – You shrugged.

“Ok, you got me at sweets and animals…”- He got out the car and opened the door for you.

After a quick elevator ride, you finally arrive at your beloved home.

“Oh Ninja…” – You scowled and then laughed; catching some things your cat had knocked down on your absence. – “Be good, please, we have visitors, ok?” – You crouched, rubbing the cat’s back as he rubbed his face on your legs.

“What can I get you? A tea, maybe a beer? I’m not a drinker, so I don’t have anything stronger to offer you..”

“I’m fine like this, thanks.” – He smiled and sat on the sofa, near your Ninja, who seemed to be curious and pleased by Tommy’s presence.

“He likes you, so I guess I like you too…” – You giggled. – “What about a slice of cheesecake, can I offer you that?”

He made a funny face.

“You know, that is something that can’t be refused!”

You walked to the kitchen grabbing him a slice of cheesecake, which he devoured in delight shortly after, as you threw yourself in the other sofa.

“Oh God, it’s really good…” – He spoke with his mouth still full, and you laughed.

“Talking about really good, I need your help…”

“Tell me.”

“Mad Dog just gave up on me, you heard him. And I have trials soon, I need to keep in shape. I need to find someone really good to train with, and it better be real quick…” – You bite your nails.

“Hmm, I might have a solution for you…”

“I’m ready to hear it , Tommy.”

“If it’s to help you achieving something you really want, then I’ll help you, even if I don’t usually coach people. Let’s say I took a liking to you, shorty.”

“Wait, WHAT?” – You straightened out in the sofa.

“That is, if you want me to.”

“If that doesn’t bother you or your practice for Sparta… Of course I want it!” – You get up, running to him, jumping on his arms and hugging him tight. – “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. THANK YOU!” – You filled his cheek with kisses.

“I can see it’s important for you, and it makes me train as well. Plus, I really can’t let you in Mad Dog’s or any other lunatics’ hands! That’s dangerous for you (Y/N), I don’t want you to get hurt, alright?” – He rubbed your shoulder.- “But don’t fool yourself , I won’t be soft with you!” – He put a straight face.

“I didn’t expect you to be, that’s exactly you’re the perfect partner, Mr. Conlon!” – You nudged him.

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“In training sessions I won’t be soft , but out of the gym we’ll see…” – He wrapped an arm around you.

“Out of the ring, feel free no knock me out.” – You smiled, looking up to his eyes.

[tnystrk-exe]

Science Fair

Bruce Banner X Reader

Teacher AU

May had to work the late shift and felt awful that he couldn’t attend the function he worked so hard to be apart of, so you offered to take Peter to his school’s invention fair. She had been grateful, not expecting the offer. So, Friday, you picked Peter up for the night.

“Yeah! So Ned and I made this soda dispenser!” The eight year old explained, excited to show off his invention to someone other than his aunt and teachers, “I really hope you like it Ms. LN.”

“I’m sure I will,” you said, just as excited, “Who doesn’t like soda dispensing?”

“No, but it’s special! You know how at parties, it takes forever to get soda because you can only,” he covered his mouth, “I shouldn’t tell you, so it can be a surprise.”

“I’m sure it’s really impressive, Pete.”

Peter led you over to the school’s cafeteria. There were projects surrounding the edges, making an easy pathway to get from one presentation to the next. He let go of your hand and ran towards a slightly shorter boy. You decided to stay back and let him have his time. It must’ve been early because there there were only five kids at there stations out of fifteen.

Two men walked up to you, pleasant smiles on their faces. “Hello, I’m Mr. Stark,” he offered you his hand.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Banner.”

You smiled back, shaking both of their hands. “I’m, YN. So, you two are Peter’s teachers?”

Mr. Stark noticed a couple more parents walk in and he patted his coworker on the back, “You got this.”

“We head the science department and run a couple of clubs for the kids,” he explained, “Stark specializes in robotics and technology. I tend to stick to chemistry.”

“That’s really cool of you two, sometimes I hangout with Peter and May. All he talks to me about is his clubs. He really loves science doesn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Dr. Banner chuckled, “He’s one of the most enthusiastic students I’ve ever taught. Peter is insanely talented in science. It’s great.”

“So, you said you were a doctor?” You asked, slightly wondering why he chose to teach at an elementary school, “If it isn’t rude, may I ask why you teach here?”

He nodded, it was one of the questions he was asked the most, “Yes, I am. Lots of people think it’s strange. I teach a couple of classes at the college three times a week, on non club days. College students are great, but kids are just so eager to learn. Y’know? It’s refreshing.”

“I can respect that,” you nodded, “Sounds like a packed schedule.”

“It is, but I love my work.”

You gave Dr. Banner a quick once over when he shyly looked away. His hands fidgeted the whole time he talked. Honestly, he was cute. The gray in his hair slowly taking over from the black and a shadow of a beard on his cheeks. He blushed slightly, when he tuned back to see your wandering eye. You smirked slightly, laughing to yourself about being caught.

“Brucie, dear, I understand talking to a beautiful woman may be more interesting than me, but I need you right now buddy,” Tony called out from the center of the cafeteria. The kids laughed, chorusing ‘Dr. Banner has a crush.’

Okay, so now you both were blushing. Banner scratched the back of his head, giving you a shy smile before walking off to Stark.

“I’d like to thank you all for joining us today. The kids have been working very hard the past two weeks. So if we could all walk to table one,” Bruce stammered slightly, leading the way to the first station.

Peter and Ned finally had their turn five presentations later.

“Have you ever been at a birthday party and it just takes forever to get a soda?” Peter asked the crowd.

“Well, the waiting has come to an end with,” the shorter boy who you assumed was Ned started talking as he and Peter dramatically pulled the blanket off of their invention.

“The soda fountain 3000!” The shouted together.

The group of adults clapped politely and the kids stepped closer. Now it was evident why Ned and Peter’s table was set up over a tarp and a small kids pool. Next to small pipe system that was made sat a bottle of Diet Coke and mentos.

“Now you see? You can pour six sodas at once!” Peter stated, eagerly setting up the cups under pipes. Ned grabbed a bottle of Diet Coke and set it up under the main pipe.

“Warning though, Mountain Dew and orange soda don’t react as well,” Ned shrugged, “So, you’re stuck waiting forever for those.”

Peter handed Ned a handful of Mentos. “Go ahead.”

“Really? Alright yes!” The crowd laughed at Ned’s enthusiasm as he shoved the Mentos into a shorter pipe at the top and Peter quickly covered up the opening when Ned pulled away.

The Mentos reacted quickly, messily filling up the cups as some of the drink spilled onto the floor. “Tada! Six cups filled up and ready!”

Both of the boys got three cups and handed them out to people in the crowd. “Here you go, Ms. LN,” Peter gave you a big smile, giving you a cup.

“Thanks, Pete.”

It was time for Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner to ask their questions about the kids experiments. “So, Ned,” Mr. Stark said, stepping forward, “I can’t figure out at all how all of this works, really it keeps me up at night. Mind explaining it to me?”

“It’s actually really easy Mr. Stark! Look, you put the Mentos in here,” he pointed to the very top, “But you have to be careful, because if you don’t cover it up and it just shoots to the sky. Sure raining soda would be the coolest ever, but it’s easier to drink in a cup. Now there’s the pipe system. Seven, one for the bottle and six for the cups. The main one is smaller so that there’s enough force to push the soda out to the farthest pipes. That’s it, Mr. Stark.”

Stark put a hand over his chest, sighing dramatically, “I can finally rest. My life is complete.”

“Peter, can you tell me about the reactions happening?” Dr. Banner asked, “I just, I can’t seem to remember anything at all right now.”

“Oh! Of course Dr. Banner,” he gave his teacher a polite smile, “Well, there’s carbon dioxide basically dissolved inside of the soda right? The Mentos bring down the activation energy levels and cause a reaction that turns it back into a gas state. The gas bubbles start to get bigger and bigger and the pressure in the bottle just builds up until...Boom!”

“No way! Thank you for reminding me, you really saved me there Pete. I thought I was going have to give up my job at the college.”

“You can’t! You’re the smartest person I know Dr. Banner.”

“I am wounded. Come on group, let’s get to the next presentation. Parker just broke my heart.”

The group went to the next table. Peter went over to Mr. Stark, “I’m sorry, I hurt your feelings.”

“What? No kid,” he fondly ruffled Peter’s hair, “I was joking. We had to go to the next presentation any way. You’re good.”

Peter nodded and went back with Ned, playing close attention to the new presentation. The presentations passed by quickly after you saw the one you wanted to see, sure the others were interesting, but Peter’s was the one you were hyped up for. That paired with the fact that his salt and pepper haired teacher kept catching your eye made it difficult to concentrate.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming,” Mr. Stark said, grabbing everyone’s attention, “You may leave now if you wish, though we would like to ask for more time. Dr. Banner and I thought a small pizza party would be great for the kids to celebrate their accomplishments.”

A couple of kids and adults shuffled out. Peter went to your side, “Okay, we can go Ms. LN.”

“What? You don’t wanna stay? Your friend is still here.”

“N-no, it’s fine. I know you only promised to stay for the fair, let’s go home.” He grabbed your hand and started to pull you toward the door.

“Pete, it’s cool. Go have some fun, there’s nothing else planned for tonight unless you want to grab some ice cream after all this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you worked hard. Go celebrate.”

Peter gave you a quick hug, saying thank you before running off towards Ned. You slacked off to the side, not exactly wanting to mingle with the group of parents, and obviously not wanting to embarrass Peter in anyway. Though Peter was a good kid and probably wouldn’t be embarrassed by anything you did.

“What was your favorite presentation?” A voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You gave the shy man a smile, “I don’t know, Dr. Banner, I’m definitely biased. I’m pretty sure, that Peter kid and his friend pulled a pretty cool show.”

He laughed at your response. “Please, call me Bruce.”

“Bruce it is then.”

“They did do very well, I’m proud of them. Tony really helped them break out of their shells. Their first run at this presentation with just Tony and I, you should have seen them, they were so nervous.”

“Props to Tony then. They looked like seasoned presenters.”

“So, tell me about yourself.”

“I moved over here two years ago,” you nodded, “Decided I needed a change. Life just because, something I didn’t want it to be, so I pushed the restart button. Started up a new job about six months ago, met May, Peter’s aunt, and that all landed me to this exact moment to talk to a pretty cute doctor.”

He blushed, laughing softly, and looking anywhere but you. “Good chain of events?”

“A very good chain of events.”

Before he could respond, there was the sound of an explosion at the display tabled, followed by soda sprayed everywhere.

“It’s not my fault! Penis Parker left all his stuff out!” A boy complained near Peter’s display, two empty Mentos wrappers on the floor beside him.

Bruce and Stark immediately went over to assess the mess made. Neither looking angry, just more so frustrated. The boys parents followed suit ready to argue.

“As Flash stated, that boy should have put his things away. S-“

“As stated in the contract that you signed, allowing him to join the club, he has to be respectful of other people’s property,” Bruce interrupted.

“Furthermore, he agreed to be respectful of other people,” Stark added. Ignoring Flash’s parents, he looked at the boy, “Go apologize. It was uncalled for.”

The boy took a step in Peter’s direction before his father grabbed him by the arm and led him out of the cafeteria. Soon more people started filing out. Peter came over to you, visibly uncertain with what he was going to ask you.

“Uhm, Ms. LN, is it okay if Ned comes over with us while you watch me for the night?”

“Yeah. Of course, I’m okay with it. Is May usually okay with it?” He nodded, excitedly, “Then I see no problem. Can you point me to his parents so I can run it by them, that I’ll be watching the two of you?”

Peter took you over to Ned’s mother. The two of you had a quick conversation and then traded numbers incase anything arose. She left and the boys went back with the diminishing group of kids. You looked over and noticed Bruce trying to clean the spilled soda the best he could with a couple of rags.

“Hey, you. Need some help?” You asked walking over.

“N-no, uh, Tony went to find a mop. I’m just...” he shrugged, looking up at you from where he was kneeling, “I think I’m spreading the mess more than anything.”

A small smirk played on your lips as a line popped into your head. Should you say it? No, but he just had such a cute blush. “How about I get on my knees and help you out anyway?” That did it. You laughed softly and kneeled down and took a rag from the clean pile and started trying to clean the mess up. Banner was a bit of a flustered mess as he started cleaning with you.

“Did you break my Brucie?” Tony asked, a bucket and mop beside him, “Look at him. He’s practically short circuiting.”

“Nope! I’ve done nothing,” you answered, gathering up all the dirtied rags and setting them down in the kids pool set up under the table. “Maybe, your friend is prone to short circuiting.”

“Mhm,” he nodded, watching Bruce amused, “Both of you scatter. I have a mess to clean up and a wife to go home too. I promised a date night and I’m cutting it pretty close.”

You looked at your watch, “Actually, I should get the boys home soon. Nice meeting you Stark, Banner.” You shook both of their hands and walked off. “Ned, Pete, what do you two say to Star Wars and some ice cream?” The boys cheered and raced off toward the exit. “Bye again, Bruce.”

He waved back, sheepishly.

“I can’t believe you let her go without getting her number,” Tony hit Bruce on the upper arm, “She was into you.”

Bruce held up the hand you shook, showing Tony the piece of paper you slipped into his hand. “I did get it though.”

“She stole my moves straight out of my playbook.”

Everything Tag:

@sophiatomlinson23

Marvel Tag:

@asguardiansoftheavengers @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked