#what with him having lost his spider sense and starting to pull his punches a bit more since he’a trying his darnedest to be a stand-up guy

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

Ben Reilly: Scarlet Spider (Vol. 1/2017), #5.

Writer: Peter David; Penciler: Mark Bagely; Inker: John Dell; Colorist: Jason Keith; Letterer: Joe Caramagna

[wonryllis]

ⓘ SIM JAEYUN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE.

❪ 🕸️ ❫────𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁!

( NOTES. ) where you are JAKE SIM'𝓼 MJ. fluff, suggestive in some places fem!centered. lowercase intded. 2040wc. 𓈃 ๋ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠 requests are open. happy new year guys!

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS WOULD BE REALLY APPRECIATED!

now playing. sunflower by post malone, stay by justin beiber.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who first notices you when you knock out his target with your tote bag because you saw him running from the neighborhood hero. immediately catching his attention with your cute face and fiercely aggressive yet again cute anger. gods knows what was in that bag, or maybe it was the angle or the way you swung it, he thinks back on it calculating shit to make it make sense and it does but nevertheless you're still cute and awesome.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who accidentally finds the little bookstore you work part-time at every monday, wednesday and fridays. always hovering around the area on the said days coincidentally exactly during the hours of your shift.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who sometimes changes out of his suit in the alleyways nearby into his nerd get up to drop by at your bookstore and always look for books that you don't happen to have as he asks at the frontdesk and you reply with your sweet smile and your sweet voice that's he finds himself getting addicted to.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who later finds out you go to his university and have been in his chem class for two years but he hasn't ever noticed you? well that's because he started being the friendly little hero just the week you transferred having no other focus than his newfound superpowers. it's a shame he thinks he could be celebrating his two year anniversary with you right now but in reality you don't even know his name.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who as stalkerish as it sounds has pictures of you in his phone, candid clicks in the bookstore to you clad in your labcoat in chem. a whole folder in his laptop where he has planned it all out how he's going to win your heart.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who loves coming in to save you at the right time and how the bad side happens to go for you even though you haven't become his woman yet. not that he'll let you know he's the one behind the mask it's too dangerous if others were to find out you were associated with the man himself and aim for you. he can't risk losing you.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who kind of becomes friends with you in his superhero disguise but still a stranger as jake. and it's all because of the numerous saves where he flirts with you shamelessly after defeating the enemy. "don't you think it's too much of a coincidence how i always come for your rescue?" hanging upside down at your face right after knocking out the black hat, "i think it's destiny," lowering the pitch of his voice as he moves even closer.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who now drops by in your bookstore in his suit for a quick flirt and who hopelessly stares at you across the room in uni wondering when it'll be jake's turn and not the friendly neighborhood spiderman.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who gets caught while staring and confronted by an uncomfortable you whether there's something he needs. and who has his clumsy ass exposed the same night when he's fighting right outside your window, his mask getting pulled off by the monster. his wide eyes looking straight at you like a deer caught in headlights as you realize it all. fuck, it's all over.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who gets hit and punched more than usual because he thinks he's lost his chance with you, but having his world blown over when you let him in, more like invite and clean off his wounds for him.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who can't keep his eyes off the tiny pajama set you have on but he also can't do anything because now he has an identity you know of, a face you'll either love or hate. no longer be able to hide behind his mask to hit on you. truly his feelings show on his face, in his eyes, the way they stay stuck on the plush of your thighs, on the fallen strap of your top as you stand between his legs, hand on his jaw holding it up while you apply the ointment on the corner of his lips. "what were you thinking? you never got beaten this bad!" "you don't wanna know," oh how hot you are when you scold him.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who thinks he's in utopia with how you had no trouble accepting him as spiderman. even seeming more interested than ever. but no he will not get his hopes up yet.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who dies and ascends to heaven when he comes back to say goodnight and you pull down his mask to leave a kiss on his lips, "goodnight," "w-what?" "i'll see you in chem tomorrow, hm?" "yeah? yeah, right goodnight,"

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who calls you his sunflower eversince, assuming you've that kind of a situationship. his symbol of faith, positivity and hope. his corner of peace in his topsy-turvy life.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who takes you on unofficial swing dates, his mind travelling places when your body presses into his as you hold on for dear life. it's hot though the way he shoots the spider-web and swings. but it's even hotter when you're sitting in his room watching him work on upgrading his high tech suit and web formulae.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who goes "you have something here," pointing at a spot besides your lips before leaning in and leaving a soft kiss there then moving towards your lips in a pepper of more each getting convulsively harsher.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who tucks your hair behind your ear when they fall into your eyes as you speak. listening to each and everything you say and the way your lips move and your hair frames your face.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who buys you gifts and leaves them in the bookstore with short little sweet notes. who takes selfies of him in his suit half up in the air mid-swing and updates you about his day. "hey sunflower, im on my way to find this new flying green elf they say has been going around causing trouble, i'm so excited!" his voice notes sound with a quick hey watch out! or something in background as he almost falls off in the middle of the road texting you.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who videocalls you at night and watches you fall asleep as he repairs his fight damaged suits, smiling at the sight of your pouty lips and the way your cheeks squish against the pillow when you snuggle into it, wishing it was him instead.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who short-circuits and malfunctions when you find the secret folder in his laptop looking through his perfect plan to win you. but what can he do, he admits he had grown obsessed with you before he even knew it himself. "uh just, well it all worked out anyway, i didn't really have to do any of that," "just so you know, i liked you well enough as spiderman and jake. i somewhat did have some idea that you were spiderman,"

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who sometimes arrives at 'dates' hours later because "hey, sorry sunflower im running just a little late, there's a bit of traffic," speaking into the phone as he hangs on a bus mid-fight. which he actually got into while looking for wild flowers for you near the river and the villain spotted him clad in his red & blue attire after he escaped the last time owing to some defects in his suit,"jake are those sirens?" "no?" "where are you?" "five blocks away, four, three actually just gimme me two minutes i'll be there!"

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who does unexpected things to save you because you always jump in when you see him being pushed into a corner. his web sticking to the bottom of your top as he pulls you to him, hands going around your waist,"i'm gonna throw you out the window now," "wha-" before he's swinging you out. chill he'll shoot the web to help you down.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE as much as he loves you, is tired of you insisting to tag along because baby you're in too much danger in the main area "i'm coming with you!" "no you're not!" "jake!" though he loves how you want to be there for him.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who once ends up fighting a monster in the corridors of the uni and later has to hide from the others but can't seem to find the place for it when you come to the rescue and drag him into a janitor's closet in the corner. "you just kissed me," "i know" "jake we're literally hiding to save your ass," "i just couldn't help it. sorry." having your own little seven minutes in heaven in there.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who drops into your balcony at night with the excuse that's his web liquid finished or whatever that is and that he can't take the bus or the cab or walk home. ending up in your bed cuddled together after a messy makeout session. or sometimes knocking against your window all wound up, feeling slightly guilty when you wince and worry while cleaning the cuts and bruises,"are you okay? does it hurt a lot?" "m used to it," "please be careful, i hate it when you get like this," but boy his mind's somewhere else again, leaning in to kiss you, lips falling to your jaw and trailing down to the crook of your neck when you dodge it on the lips. "jake, you're injured!" "i'm sorry, sunflower. just gimme a kiss it gives me strength," "you better rip apart that lizard next time i can't see you like this," "yes love, i promise, now-" his lips capturing yours in a hard suck.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who does the iconic peter gwen kiss on the rooftop the night he has dinner with your parents after they catch you two in your room. "do you think your dad likes me?" "not too sure about that, but he'll have to deal with it, i'm not leaving you,"

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who randomly picks you up from the streets after pinging you a quick text and swings you to these special spots no one can get, high up in the air to show you the little arrangements he makes with his webs. "jake! what was that!" "didn't you get my message?" "i did but i didn't know you'd just grab me like that!" "did you like it though?" ... "yes i did," big smooch

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who even after all this is shit ton scared that'll you'll drop him if he asks you to be official. also afraid of the fact that being with him would put you in constant danger. isolating himself away from you to think it through and somewhere in him mind weighing it out that he's better out of your life than in it. it's all fun and games when it's the romance but what when you're used as his weakness?

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who has a deadly fight with the green goblin, you getting dragged into it and being attacked against before he uses all of his last strengths to defeat the villain and save you a second over death.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who realizes that at this point being without him would cost him the life of both you and him. he's too in love with you and you're too in love with him to stay apart. you're the safest by his side where he can see you and save you.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who after the said deadly fight, the worst in his superhero career, at the verge of passing out holds onto you, hands cupping your cheeks and foreheads leaning against each other, eyes closed and deep breaths after a long kiss,"can i be your boyfriend?" SPIDERMAN!JAKE who asks to be the one for you.

TAGLIST ( open. ) @s00buwu

[catwrites9]

It’s A Craving, Not A Crush

Kate Bishop x fem!reader SMUT

Warnings: Smut, praise, fingering, slight hair pulling, scissoring, violence, injury, blood, not proof read, cussing, use of y/n, I think that’s it

W/n: First ever smut I’m happy with the beginning but I rushed a lot of it because I kinda lost passion for this writing and I’m just wanting to move of to my poll smut

Masterlist

—————————————————————————

You are just like any unmasked vigilante fighting crime and coming home to tend to your wounds. You didn’t have any powers… Well, being able to hear heart beats and having a better reflex than Peter makes you have powers. You always fought crime all day and then came home around 11 or 12 to tend to wounds and go to sleep. It was the usual routine waking up at 10am to your roommate Peter getting ready for college trying to look for his spider suit as you got up and got ready.

You recently found out while spying on hell's kitchen that there was a new list of future victims. One of the names stood out to you. Kate Bishop, your mentors partner, the same women you had the worst crush on. Even though Clint told you that she was off limits you still liked her. The tension you both had mixed with how she was always caring for you made the crush’s worst. After finding out about her being a target you brought it to Clint. That's when he gave you a task of protecting her. That’s how you two got closer while the whole kingpin thing was happening.

But now it’s different you're on a mission to retrieve the ronin sword for Clint in an old warehouse. It was protected by what seemed like hundreds of guards so you couldn’t have just gone guns blazing. You picked them out one by one until there was no one left. You retrieved the sword. The sharp pain jutting you into fight or flight as you glance down seeing a whole sword stick through your stomach. You quickly elbow the guy in the face while pocketing the sword. Another two come up behind you as one hits your head with a brick and the other takes the sword out of you. Your senses are off, your seeing double. The first guy gets on top of you and starts punching you. After what felt like 5 hits to the body and about 2 to the face you grab a bottle right next to you and smash it against him. You get up and start fighting the other two. They didn’t expect it and didn’t put up much of a fight. Though one of them was able to make your wound worse by hitting the handle of their sword into the wound. The first guy comes back with a knife and is able to slice you a few times on the body and twice on the face. You were able to throw a pallet at him.

You caught your breath and examine your wound, it was bad. You needed a hospital but being a vigilante, that wasn’t gonna work. Clint wouldn’t be up, Peter is out and won’t answer, and most hero’s are asleep by now. But that’s when you know of someone that lives nearby and also usually gets home at this time. Kate. You climb the building as the police come. you start running from roof tops and swinging till you get to her fire exit. You climb it and see if she’s home she’s not but will be soon. You gently push up the window that was thankfully unlocked but still Kate will get a lecture about it. You progressively get more tired as you sit by her bathroom. Then everything goes black.

You wake up from the door opening and you try to get up but you have no strength. Kate walks through as she puts her bag down and pets lucky. You groan as you try to get up. Her head snaps to you, she was afraid at first but then sees it’s you.

“Y/n what are you doing where it’s almost 1 in the morning.” She looks at you annoyed and then worried.

“Kate please I didn’t know who else to go to” your hand bloody as she see the streak of blood on the wall

“Are you ok” she says worried and moves you to her bathroom”what happened”

“I got stabbed” you say in a very monotone way. She reaches to pull off your suit and you flinch.

“I can’t help you if you don’t take it off” Kate says sincerely as you realize that she’ll have to see your face, the one you’ve only shown to Peter and Clint.

“Ok” is all you can say and she takes it of leaving you in a sports bra and a gator mask on the top half of you . She tends to your stab as you hiss and groan from the pain. Every noise you make she praises you, you blush hard which is covered by the mask.

“Stop shifting your hips so much” she says, looking up at you and then going back to work. You didn’t realize the effect that she has on you and how much her praising you makes you horny. But you couldn’t think of that. Once she’s done she cleans your little cuts until she gets to your face. She cleans the eyebrow one but the cheek one goes under the mask, she looks at you for consent as you nod she takes it off and goes wide eyes. She starts cleaning it but her cheeks get progressively get more pink. You're now aware of how close you two are, the sound of your breathing and your groans are loud. Once she’s done she goes towards the kitchen as you follow her.

“I’m sorry for Intruding into your house but your window was unlocked and just” you pause “ thank you for helping me even though I broke into your house you could have just left me to die.” She steps close to you practically chest to chest. The tension builds. You can hear her heart beat racing as fast as yours. The feeling is mutual. This crush you’ve had on her evolves. It’s a craving, not a crush.

“I never knew that you would be that hot under the mask, I knew you would be hot just by your voice but I mean fuck your hot” she says it confidently as you just blush.”you know how Clint said I was off limits and how he would kill me and you if we did anything” you nod”you make me want to break his rule even if it results in my death, y/n I need you please” that is your cue.

You lean in kissing her, you lean in softly but she roughenes the kiss and she leads you to her bed room up the stairs. You push her onto the mattress as you get on top of her. You start making out and sliding your hand under her shirt slowly going up and starting to massage her breast. She moans into your mouth and you take that as your invite to deepen the kiss and have your tongues fight for dominance.

You break apart to take off her shirt and bra. You admire her, all her little scars, her abs, Kate starts to get red as you just take in the woman infront of you. The only thing you can hear is both of your breathing. You know that it is wrong to want her when the mentor you’ve had for years told you never to go after her but the excitement of breaking his rules fuels you more. You move to start kissing and sucking marks on her neck. She becomes a whiny mess under you pleading for you.

“Please y/n please”

“What do you want me to do Kate”

“Please anything, anything you want, just please fuck me” she whines and she squirming under you as your hands explore her body.

“Tell me exactly what you want”

“Anything please” she gets more impatient as time goes on

“Do you want my hand or my mouth, pick Kate”

“Your mouth please” she pleads looking at you with doe eyes.

You get on your knees looking up at her for consent as she nods. You pull off both her pants and underwear as you start making marks on her inner thigh. She squirms and bucks her hips multiple times. You hold her hips down as you lick a stripe of her pussy. Taking in the taste of her and moaning at it. You attach your lips to her clint as you begin to suck on it. She gives you the most pornographic moan that immediately makes you more horny.

Your fingers begin to tease her at her core. Her hips try to buck under you as you hold them down. She’s a moaning mess for you. Your fingers made their way into her wetness as she practically starts screaming your name. Her back is arching as you start at a slow pace and begin to go faster. You keep going at a faster pace until you hit her g spot.

“Oh my god right there fuck y/n right there your such a good girl you gonna make me cum so hard”The moment those words came out her mouth you knew that you needed to make her come now.

Her hands pulling your hair as your groan on her clint making her moan more from the vibrations. You can tell she’s close by how much she’s cleaching on your fingers. She comes hard yelling out your name as you help her ride out her high. Once she’s done you take out your fingers and put them in your mouth moaning at the taste of them. You get up and go back on top of her to start kissing her. Before you can react she flips you over.

“You didn’t think I wasn’t going to return the favor” she chuckles”we have to be careful with your stitches so that means no arching your back” you look confused on what she’s going to do

She takes off your pants and underwear as she moves back on top of you, moving your leg to her side as she places her pussy on yours. You both are moaning from the intimacy. She starts to grind her hips as you throw your head back. Both of your Clint’s hitting perfectly on every grind. Both of you close from the prior intimacy and even if you didn’t come then you're sure as hell gonna now.

“Fuck Kate I’m gonna come”

“Come with me”

You both release at the same time. Both of you out of breath calming down from your highs. Once you both came down Kate climbs off of you as she lays beside you. You both just sit there in bliss of everything that happened. Before both of you could say anything Kate’s phone rings. Its from Clint. She put it on speaker.

“Hey Kate have you heard from y/n at all”

“No why”

“I’m scared she got hurt on my mission I put her on”

“Oh I’m sorry I haven’t heard from her in a while I’ll tell you if I do”

“Really?” He questions suspiciously.

“Yeah??..” she questions now looking at you.

“Oh my god right there y/n right there” he pauses”that doesn't ring a bell”

Fuck

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W/n: I can’t wait to start on my next project which is Watching me undress won the poll so next up is Paige bueckers smut.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey Player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure Skater! Fem! Reader)

Omg y’all, first I know i said I’d post this on Halloween, but… I couldn’t help myself! Second, the time has come… the last chapter😭. I just wanted to thank you all for reading and for all the support! It means a lot to me. The usual, not proofread.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Alcohol usage, mentions of cannabis, cursing, no smut but a small small smaaaall make out bit. Miguel finally learning to use his words.

Word count: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 15 [Final]: Maybe I’m too busy bein’ yours to fall for somebody new.

—

It felt like you were in the opening scene of a cheesy 80’s horror flick. Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads was blasting through the frat house you were currently at, a red solo cup with spiked punch in one hand, and the other grabbing on to Kate’s hand while she dragged you through the crowd with a laugh, your purple cape swishing behind you as you make your way through the sea of drunk college students, all dressed up in different costumes.

Eventually you found yourself in the kitchen of the frat house, it was small and despite the only people in said kitchen being you and your group, it still felt a bit crowded but what room wouldn’t feel a bit crowded when you were tipsy from alcohol, and every room had either someone in a costume, Halloween decor, or both. You took a sip of your drink as you looked over at Xavier with an amused experience as he playing around with his collapsible staff he got for his costume, letting out a small laugh when he almost knocked over a spider decoration that was hanging off one of the kitchen cabinets, before he let out an embarrassed cough and sheepishly collapsed his staff. You knew that you shouldn’t have let Kate give him an item he could use as an actual weapon when he was going to be drinking.

You were dressed as Raven, Logan was beast boy, Kate and her boyfriend were starfire and Robin and Xiaver’s roommate who you couldn’t remember the name of was cyborg. You’ve got to admit, the cape was fun, and you were thankful that Kate didn’t force you and Logan to paint yourselves gray and green respectively. You 5 have been making your way down frat row for the past 2 hours at this point, hopping from one party to another, and were planning on leaving for the next one, but wanting to raid the candy basket and take a few beers for the road (aka, the 4 minute walk).

Tonight was great, a nice way to unwind after the absolute roller coaster of emotions you’ve been on recently, school was starting back up, skating practices have only been getting more intense as you and Logan practiced for sectionals, and you still had absolutely no idea what was going on between you and Miguel, despite the good terms you two have been on recently, you two would be relatively snarky with each other, but there wasn’t any underlying malice like there was before a few months ago. Your thought were pulled pulled out of your head and your hand was tugged and you found yourself following behind Kate and the rest of your group and you all exited through the back door in the kitchen, and makes your way to the next frat house, Logan unlocking the gate that separated the front yard with the back one.

As you entered the next party, the song Goo Goo Muck was finishing up before transitioning to The Create from the Black Leather Lagoon, both from The Cramps. Despite your best efforts, and both your and Kate’s tight grip on each other’s hand, you had found yourself becoming separated from a majority of your group and you wondered deeper into the crowd, the stench of alcohol and weed filling your senses as you felt Logan’s hand tightened on your shoulder, you had officially lost the others.

You and Logan decided to make your way up to the second floor of the house, wanting to see if there was a way to get out to the balcony that you saw on your way in, knowing that you’d get a good view of the night sky. Eventually you two did make your way outside on it, Logan leaning against the railing while you were sitting down on the floor, using your cape as a makeshift blanket to keep your ass from touching the wood. Both of you sipped on your stolen beers as you both talked.

“I think I saw your ex on the way up here.” You throw out the information to him nonchalantly, causing him to choke on his beer a bit, a hand coming up and patting on his chest to try and help regain his composure.

“Um, you-you did? Where?” He stuttered as he attempted to act normally, but you noticed as he straightened up a bit from his position against the railing.

“By the bathroom-“ you didn’t get to finish before he ran back inside, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you were left alone outside, knowing it was better to not follow him and attempt to stop him. Taking a sip of your beer, your eyes drifted back to the night sky, how you wished you could actually see the stars, but due to all the light pollution that was only a simple wish, grabbing your cape and wrapping it tightly around yourself in an attempt to help warm yourself up, mentally cursing yourself for not wearing tights as you looked up at the gray night sky.

“¿Qué estás haciendo aquí solita, princesa?” A deep voice asked you from behind you. [What are you doing here all alone princess?]

“Hey to you too, Miguel.”

A silence fell over you two, before you heard his heavy footsteps make their way over to your direction, you didn’t glance over to look at him until you saw him entering your peripheral vision. Your lips pull up to a small smirk, a hmph leaving your mouth as you glance up at him, before you finally break the silence.

“A vampire? I was expecting more from you.” You teased with a snort, causing his to scoff in response, before moving to go sit next to you, which surprised you slightly but you decided not to say anything.

“I’m the phantom of the opera, and I don’t wanna hear it from you, (Y/N). What are you supposed to be? Some sort of witch?”

“No. I'm Raven from the teen titans! Ya know, the DC character?”

“Oh, sorry. All my superhero knowledge comes from Peter and he’s more of a Marvel guy-“

“I’m more of a Marvel person too and even I know who that is!”

“Well I’m not a nerd like you are.”

“Rude! Says the one dressed as a character from a musical.” You giggled with a scoff, and it wasn’t until your giggles subsided that you realized that you’ve two gotten closer in proximity during your little back and forth. You thought, maybe it was just you and the alcohol in your system, but when you noticed the sudden shift in Miguel’s eyes, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallowed some saliva.

You both just sat there for a while, staring into each other’s eyes, neither one daring to move, afraid that if you did, the moment of tension between you both might disappear, so, for what felt like an eternity, you both just stared at the other. Eventually, you grained enough control over your body to open your mouth to say something, to say what? You weren’t sure, but before a single syllable could even leave your mouth, Miguel took the opportunity to lunge towards you and smash his lips into yours. Immediately, you melted into the kiss with a sigh, your hands going up and snaking around his neck before pulling him closer, causing a quiet groan to leave Miguel’s mouth. Small whimpers and moans escaping your lips as his rough hands landed on your exposed thighs, the goosebumps that were already forming on your legs became more prominent as Miguel slipped them down and onto your ass, giving your cheeks a firm squeeze, before pulling you into his lap. You let out a squeal as your hands drop down to his chest instead, your knees landing on either side of his hips, the thin cape of his phantom costume doing little to help cushion them from the hard cold wood of the balcony. Your head was swirling, both from the alcohol and the make out session, and it didn’t help that you could feel his bulge from where you were sitting straddled on top of him, he pulls away first, given you both a chance to grasp for air, before his head dips to begin peppering kisses down your jaw and neck.

God, you’ve never wanted this man more in your life then you did right now, and you know that Miguel was feeling the same way about you, but you both knew there was a better time and place for you to both succumb to those urges, so with a final kiss your neck he pulled away from you, you shift to sit on his thighs, both of your chest rising and falling rapidly in attempt to catch your breath. Miguel’s hand goes up to wipe some saliva and lipgloss from the corner of his mouth.

Once you were able to get yourself back under control, you cleared your throat before speaking.

“Look, Miguel. As much as I love making out with you on a bi-weekly basis, I don’t think I’m in a place, mentally for this to continue without at least knowing where we stand with each other. I-I don’t care if you only wanna be fuckbuddies, or make out buddies, or if you want to try for something serious-but I just want to know what you want.”

“I want you.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“I want all of you, (Y/N). I want you to be mine, and only mine, and I wanna be yours.”

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @miguel-ohara-eater @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio @minimari415

[orpheusilver]

next time you get bored u should answer this ask to talk about your Eric and Morbius ^_^ i love Blade so much so i’m interested in what you have planned so far

hiiiiiiiiiii im procrastinating lol. anyway so you know how this is a hall of mirrors ass story and everybody parallels everybody? yea

sooo eric is the biggest and clearest foil to morgan bc they have.. so much in common. not quite a vampire. trying to atone for times they lost control and killed human people. badass vamp-killing machines. many such cases but the Differences are the funky bit bc on one hand morgan had a like. half-decent upbringing with parents and a house and everything, hes far from stable but the idea of emotional vulnerability isnt totally alien to him. Eric was a very lonely child in a terrible life-threatening situation who grew up into a very lonely adult in a slightly less terrible life-threatening situation.

to be clear eric does have people in his life! its just that theres only 2 of them. he got adopted by his cool butch biker mom whistler as a young teen and theyve been doing the vampire slaying thing ever since, and a few years ago they picked up a hematologist called karen jensen who fell into the "older sister" role. (okay yes like 80% of the blade-related plot was pulled straight from Blade (1998) but ignore that im doing some funky shit with it. okay.) she says shes an uninvolved civilian who provides medical aid since she owes eric a life debt, but this is a lie. shes In the shenanigans.

so like he does have his gay little found family but theres some shit they just dont Get yknow. so then once he does start trusting morgan they get. Very close . Very quickly. hes experiencing previously unknown types of human connection, including being gay in practice and not just in theory! and sure hes kinda avoidant and struggles to open up and express his feelings or establish boundaries but thats ok bc morgan is so anxious about rejection and abandonment that hes very willing to put in tons of work with being vulnerable! theyre meeting somewhere in the middle, they think! morgans only a little bit clingy and always suuuuper apologetic when he crosses those unclear boundaries! surely this is a healthy dynamic that wont collapse catastrophically due to communication problems!

anyway primary foil number 2: peter-man. as in superhero role model / the cooler super-powered role model. like pete always sees morbius as someone who needs to be helped and guided and saved and supported and first and foremost as his Responsibility. eric, at least at first, sees him as a Fucking Threat. to be understood and/or neutralized. and morgan really appreciates that! then eric learns to trust and respect him and they begin this totally-not-dysfunctional partnership of equals, its kinda cute if you ignore that its blatantly barreling towards destruction <3

edit i completely forgot the point of that last paragraph. eric respecting morgan like an equal makes him realize that actually, spider-guy is being kind of a cunt about this and why is he trying to prove himself to that loser anyway hes got a cool goth boyfriend now. he actually tries to earn peters respect by making him recognize him as dangerous which BACKFIRES BADLY lmao bc peter is trying to control morbius' sense of Hero Ethics just as much as hes trying to control who he punches and when, so seeing morgan get scary makes him double down on the "holy shit dont get evil" stuff. which also backfires badly. these dudes are all fucking trainwrecks

[ravagedarkness]

Spider-Man: Home Rebuilt, Chapter 14: Night of The Scorpion

We weren’t ready.

Quickly, I brought my arms out shot two strands of webbing at Scorpion. The large man brought his left arm up and took the webbing on his forearm. He then quickly turned as he threw me into the air. I was a bit startled about how easily he was able to take me off of my feet, but I wasn’t fazed beyond that as I flipped through the air and landed on all fours on a wall. I tilted my head upward to see him stalking towards me. He then lost his footing as if he slipped on ice, landing on his stomach.

“Should’ve minded the Wet Floor sign,” Frictor quipped.

I smirked underneath the mask before I launched myself off of the wall and dove straight towards Scorpion. I tucked knees into my chest and flipped forward until my feet were aimed downwards. I wanted to stomp down on his back. That wasn’t going to come into fruition. Before I knew it, I was wrapped up by this man’s tail. I tried to struggle out of it, but the tail suddenly tightened around me, causing me to grunt out. I heard my bones crack before I was suddenly slammed down to the street.

As the tail unwrapped itself from around me, I remained on the ground. My eyes were clenched shut as I felt the pain course through my body. I then turned onto my back as Scorpion approached me.

“You’re outmatched, Spider-Man,” he growled out. “Just stay down and surrender.”

I heard sudden footsteps. I looked towards my right to see Frictor run in. Scorpion turned towards him. At that moment, Frictor lowered his shoulder and sent it into the larger man’s stomach as he tackled him to the ground. As I moved to a crouch, Frictor quickly mounted Scorpion before he tried to rain down punches towards the exposed part of his face. While he managed to hit true with all of his punches, Scorpion didn’t seem the least bit fazed. Rather he sat up, grabbed Frictor by the head, reared his own head back before sending his forehead crashing into Frictor’s face. The sickening crack from the blow made my stomach churn as Scorpion tossed Frictor away like he was nothing. A part of me wanted to take the opening and try to kick him in the head, but I jumped over him and rushed to Frictor’s side.

Frictor was slowly reaching his knees as he held his face once I approached him.

“Frictor, are you okay?” I worried.

“I think my jaw’s broken,” he replied, his voice muffled by more than just his mask. “This guy’s a monster.”

“Stay down, man.”

“I can’t.” He slowly moved to his feet. “Not until we deal with him.”

I stood up and watched as Scorpion stood up and faced us. “Are you two going to give up? Or will I have to get nasty?”

Frictor grabbed the bottom of his mask and lifted it up just enough for his mouth to be exposed. He bent over and spewed a stream of blood out of his mouth. After wiping his mouth with his sleeved forearm, he pulled down his mask. He then looked over at me and nodded.

“Frictor, we can’t – ”

Before I could finish my statement, my senses went off. I looked towards Scorpion as he brought his stinger forward. The stinger transformed into a gun of sorts before it fired off two shots. Before I could dodge, I was shoved off to the side by Frictor. I saw one dart fly by me, just missing me by an inch. The second dart, however, hit Frictor in the chest. My eyes went wide as Frictor started to get wobbly on his feet.

“No, no, no!”

I heard Scorpion approach. I turned my head as Scorpion ran forward, moving a lot faster than a normal human being was able to move, let alone someone with his height and build while wearing what I assumed was some heavy armor. I moved in front of Frictor before I rushed forward, trying to meet him head on. However, I was quickly trucked over. I hit the ground, but quickly moved to my feet before I shot a whole bunch of webbing towards his feet. Once they hit, I kept on shooting webbing. Scorpion grunted as he tried to get his feet free, but I kept on webbing until he was cocooned from head to toe. After that, I stopped my webbing and ran as fast as I could around the behemoth. At this point, Frictor was on one knee.

I knew he was going to be out soon. I had to get him out of there. So, I wrapped my left arm around him and lifted him up on my shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Frictor choked out.

“We’re getting out of here!” I stated. “Scorpion got our number, and we need to haul before he calls it again!”

Making sure he was secure, I ran up to the nearest wall and jumped onto it. I quickly climbed up, thinking to myself that all I needed to do was reach the roof, and I could web sling out the area. Unfortunately, my senses went off again. That was when I noticed the green light that was growing in intensity on the wall I was climbing. I jumped backward and fell, narrowly missing a direct hit from the blast of energy. Unfortunately, the shockwave from the impact knocked me towards the ground and Frictor out of my grasp. I turned in the air and tried to grab him, but my right hand missed his hoodie by inches. Before I could even shoot the webbing to catch him, he hit the sidewalk hard. I flipped in the air and landed next to him and kneeled down next to him. Carefully, I turned him onto his back. I then put my finger on his pulse. His heart was still beating and I could feel the air going in and out of his lungs. However, his eyes were open and, despite his nigh-black irises, I could see that his pupils were dilated.

He was concussed.

“Oh… Oh no…”

I heard footsteps again. I quickly stood up and moved in front of Frictor as Scorpion approached once more.

“You were warned,” he remarked. “You were all warned. Everything that happened tonight is your fault.”

I heard the sound of an engine in the distance. I paid it no mind though as I moved into a three point stance ready to fight off Scorpion until I could get Frictor out of there. However, the sound of the engine grew louder, and I heard the sound of tires screeching. I turned my head to the left to see a black SUV zooming down the street. I didn’t know what kind of SUV it was at the time. All I know was that it looked heavily armored and modified. I figured it was some hired goons from Hammer moving in to assist. It didn’t slow down, though. Quite the opposite, it sped up until it slammed heard first into Scoprion, sending him flying several feet. The front of the SUV didn’t even looked damaged as it screeched, turned, and slid to a stop, with the front of it facing me and Frictor.

The front doors then opened. The first person to hop out was Shadowcat. It took me a moment to recognize her as she was dressed in a midnight blue full body suit and a matching domino mask. Around her waist was a belt with pouched that was fastened together a rectangular buckle that had an X inside of its borders. The other figure took me a moment to recognize, as he was dressed in black slacks with suspenders, a white long-sleeved dress shirt with a red tie and a black trench coat, a pair of black dress shoes, and a black fedora over a matching ski mask that covered his mouth. Most striking, however, was a red visor that blocked his eyes.

It donned on me. It had to be…

“Cyclops?” I asked.

“The very same,” he replied. I stood up as Shadowcat walked up to Frictor. With a grunt, she pulled him up to his feet.

“Who is this?” Frictor slurred out, definitely not all there.

“It’s me, Shadowcat,” Kitty replied soothingly. “We’re going to get you help, okay?”

“…Okay.” Frictor groaned as he allowed Kitty to move him to the truck. “Everything hurts.” He paused as they reached the truck. Shadowcat brought her left arm out and opened up the rear door. “Where’s Spider-Man?”

“He's here.”

“I hope he’s not mad at me. I couldn’t do jack against that Scorpion.”

Underneath my mask, I frowned. I wanted to say something, but I heard heavy footsteps. I looked to my right to see Scorpion on his feet again, stalking towards us.

“Oh look, more malcontents,” Scorpion spat. “Will you guys surrender, or do I have to break you like I broke poor little Frictor?”

I felt the air go cold as Cyclops turned towards Scorpion.

“I don’t know who you are or what your name is,” Cyclops said in an eerily calm tone that did nothing to mask his anger. “But you chose the wrong men to mess with.” That was the only warning he gave before he lifted up his glasses and let loose a red beam that struck Scorpion in the knee, causing him to kneel. Now it was Cyclops’ turn to stalk forward as Scorpion groaned in annoyance. “The name’s Cyclops.” He lifted up his visor once again, using a blast to swat away Scorpion’s attempt to stab him with his stinger. “And you officially got my attention.” He let loose another blast. This was one was larger and powerful enough to send Scorpion flying into a wall. Scorpion slid down onto his butt, disoriented. Cyclops stopped in his tracks and stared at Scorpion for a moment. He then tilted his head up, lifted up his visor, and turned his head as he let loose a continuous beam across top of the building Scorpion was against, causing rubble to fall down on top of the large man, covering him up completely.

“…Wow…” I muttered out.

Cyclops turned around and walked back towards us. He stopped halfway and looked up at the Daily Bugle chopper, which I forgot was there. Some energy resonated from behind his visor. That was enough for the chopper to ascend and fly away. After that, he calmly walked back to the SUV, opened the door, and moved into the driver seat. With Shadowcat already inside with Frictor, I moved into the front passenger seat. Cyclops turned the SUV on and drove off.

“We need to get Frictor to the hospital,” I said, looking over my shoulder at him. He was lying on Shadowcat’s lap, his eyes slowly closing and opening repeatedly.

“We can’t,” Cyclops replied quietly.

“What do you mean, we can’t?!” I turned my head towards him and looked at him incredulously. “Frictor is concussed and has a broken jaw! He also got darted! What do you expect him to do, just sleep it off?! Are you not going to get him help?!”

“I did not say I wasn’t going to get him help.” Cyclops said this so calmly that I almost wanted to swing on him. “I just said I’m not going to a hospital.”

“And why not?!”

“Peter.” I was given pause for a moment, jarred by him using my real name. Somehow, I had a feeling he was banking on that. “Think for a moment. That scorpion… he is working for Hammer and under the authority of The Accords, correct?”

“He is,” I confirmed.

“So, when Scorpion does report back, he’s going to tell Hammer and whatever government official or officials handling him about what was done to Frictor. They will have his guys searching every medical center for every person with injuries consistent with Scorpion’s account. If we bring Frictor to a hospital, it won’t be long until they find Craig. Do you understand?”

It took me a second to consider what he was saying. I then sighed as I looked forward. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I usually am,” he replied. “And no worries – it just shows you care.”

I took in a breath to calm myself down some more. “So where are we going?”

“Harlem. We’re taking her to Night Nurse’s clinic.”

“…I don’t know who that is.” I looked at Scott. “Do you think she can help Frictor?”

“She helped Luke Cage and other heroes many times. She even saved my life once.”

I took one last look at Frictor I then sighed as I turned my head back towards Cyclops. “Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

“Yeah, go home,” he said. “As soon as we get into Manhattan, I need you to swing home as soon as possible and get some rest. And don’t even come out tomorrow. As a matter of fact, I think it’d be best if we lay low for about two weeks.”

“Why?”

“Because when Frictor recovers, we’re going to need to plan on how to take on Scorpion. Until then, we might be able to lull them into a false sense of security and superiority. And once we have a plan together, we’ll strike.”

I shook my head. “…I don’t like it… but I trust you,” I said. “…How did you find us, anyway?”

“Social media,” Shadowcat said from the back. “The Daily Bugle was livestreaming the whole fight.”

“…Of course.”

Once we were in Manhattan, I got out of the car and webslinged home after I bid them goodnight and made them promise me that they’d keep me posted on Frictor’s condition, even though I knew they would have done so without me asking. Once I got home, removed my suit and took off my webshooters. I put them away. I didn’t even bother putting pants on, leaving me in only my boxer briefs. I placed my phone on my nightstand as I sat down on my bed.

Scorpion kicked our asses tonight. That was all I can think about. Had it not been for Cyclops, Frictor and I would have been really screwed. Frictor thought he let me down. No, I let him down. I was supposed to get him out of there but I couldn’t even do that.

Fuck Spider-Man. Fuck me.

I took in a breath, only to cringe when I felt the pain in my ribs and back. I stood up and walked over to my mirror. I saw the bruising on my ribs. I then turned around and looked at my back. Yup, that was bruised, too.

“…Waking up tomorrow morning is going to suck,” I said to myself sadly.

I then heard my phone vibrate on the nightstand. I walked over and picked the device up. After unlocking the phone, I saw I had a text from Kitty.

“Hey. We got Craig situated. He definitely has a concussion, along with a broken jaw and some bruised ribs. Whatever was in that dart finally got to him and put him out like a light. He’s going to be looked after for some time, but Claire thinks that he’ll be okay with time.”

It took me a moment to realize that Claire might be the Night Nurse that Scott was talking about. I smiled sadly as I texted back. “Tell her Spider-Man says thanks. And tell Craig I’m sorry I got him hurt.”

After some time, Kitty replied back. “Claire says she expects you to patronize her clinic whenever you need help. As for Craig, I’ll tell him when he awakes, but you don’t need to apologize. Remember what I told you. You can’t hold yourself responsible for other people’s decisions, and pain comes with the decision of pursuing this line of work. And if you hadn’t had Craig’s back tonight, he probably would have been worse off than he is now.”

I paused for a moment, then scoffed as I responded. “I guess.”

“I got to text DJ Veras to let her know that Craig is out of commission for the time being. Get some sleep, Peter. Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

I put the phone on the charger before I placed it down on the nightstand. I then dropped down onto the bed and dozed off.

I awoke the next morning to my phone vibrating. I looked over at the device then slowly sat up, grimacing as my ribs and back remind me of the state they were in. I then reached over and grabbed my phone. I unplugged the charger and check the screen on the phone.

MJ.

I sighed before I answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Loser,” she replied. I could hear the worry in her tone. “Are you okay?”

“You sound worried,” I pointed out.

“Well, I got a text from Kitty asking me to check up on you,” she explained. “So, here I am, checking up on you. So, I’m going to ask again, are you okay?”

“I had a rough night and Craig has seen better days, if the livestream was anything to go by. No, I’m not okay, MJ.”

“What happened to you?”

“I had a bad fall.” Internally, I was annoyed at myself. Maybe it was because I was still upset over last night. Maybe it was because the pain in my back and ribs made it hard for me to sleep. Or maybe it was because I was still worried about Craig. But I was getting tired of this. I was getting tired of feeding MJ, Ned, and Betty lies, half-truths, and vague statements – especially MJ. They deserved more than that. They deserved…

“Do you want me to come over?” MJ asked.

They deserved to know.

“Um…” I looked over my shoulder at the desk where the list lay. There was only one item left on the list.

4. Figure out how to do so… and prepare for the consequences.

It was at this point I remembered when I was able to reach out to MJ and Ned and tell them everything that was going on with me without skirting around certain details. And I remembered how Betty, despite not being as close to me as MJ and Ned were, still believed I was a hero when The Daily Bugle and, posthumously, Beck, smeared my name and exposed my identity.

I decided it was now or never.

“Hey, MJ,” I said. “Remember the other day, when we were in Brooklyn Bridge Park. And you asked me to let you in?”

“I do. And you said you needed some time.”

“I don’t think I can wait anymore. I need you to do me a favor. I need you to get Ned and Betty and come over here.” I paused for a moment. “…I have a lot to tell you guys. Stuff you guys might hate me for but I can’t hide anymore. Can you do that for me?”

“Peter… you’re freaking me out a bit,” MJ replied. “…You’re not messing with me, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

MJ went quiet for a bit. She then sighed. “Okay. I can do that. Just text me over the address and I’ll be there around… will 3ish be okay?”

“That’s more than fine.”

“Okay… I’ll see you then. Bye Peter.”

I frowned. I wished she called me a loser or dork. “Bye MJ.”

I hung up the phone laid it on my nightstand. I then smiled wryly. “Today is going to suck.”

[evermoresversion]

Peter Parker!andrews getting in a fight with his girlfriend for being reckless because she’s powerful

SCARLET WITCH, PETER PARKER.

A/N I decided that y/n would have the same powers as scarlet witch, plus I added a little more stuff for the story. I hope you enjoy it, thank u for the request. <3

PAIRING TASM!Peter Parker x Scarlet Witch!Reader

TW/TAGS Violence, mentions of death, angst.

SUMMARY You've always had the powers you have now, but over time they grew stronger, taking over you. And one night, having lost your parents, you decided to revive them, letting Scarlet Witch take over you to continue with her plan.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | PETER'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

If someone had ever told Peter that he would have to fight the woman he loves more than himself, he would have laughed, a lot.

But here he was, totally devastated by the fight he had just had with y/n, no, she wasn't the y/n he loved anymore, she was Scarlet Witch, she was consumed by the powers she had, she was almost unbeatable.

"What? Don't you love me now?" You laughed in a way he had never heard you do. It was evil in shape, heartless. The city was in chaos because of you, along with a lot of people dying to get what you wanted.

"y/n, you're not like this, you must..." you cut him off.

"I'm not y/n anymore, she died." you looked at him with fury in your eyes. "And if you want to stay alive, I recommend that you get out of my way."

"Sorry, but no, and if I have to fight you to stop you I will."

"Fine, if you insist." you answered simply, light began to be produced in your hands and with his sixth sense he was able to predict where you were going to hit him. "Oh come on! It's no fun if you dodge all my punches." you pouted and reached out your hand so you could lift him up too, you pulled him towards you in the air and it was impossible for him to move due to the force field that your telekinesis had.

"y/n you have to stop, this is not you." he mumbled slightly due to the strength you held in his body as he tried to wriggle out of it.

"I'm not going to stop, I just want my parents back, no one better than you should understand that." you looked at him and he could see betrayal, anger and sadness reflected in your eyes. "You should have helped me when I asked you to, when I was reasonable." your jaw tensed as you watched Peter carefully. "Let me do this and I'll stop."

"No." He responded after a few seconds, and for a moment the façade of feigned sadness that you had had disappeared, turning into anger once more.

"Well, you made me." With a movement of your hand you threw him away from there, with another movement you covered his torso with metal sheets so that he could not move.

Thanks to the strength that he also had, he managed to get rid of the metals that covered most of his body.

"Give it up, Peter." You muttered in his mind. Another of your powers is mental manipulation.

"No, I'm not going to let you take her." He responded back by walking out of the building you'd thrown him into to start swinging back to where you'd gone.

"She and I are one, Parker, if you kill me she dies." you laughed maliciously and he stopped hearing your voice in his mind.

He knew that you were going to go to some kind of magical pit that you had found from an ancient legend where previously kings and queens had used it to revive and live much longer.

When he arrived, you were ready to start with that ritual that you were planning to do.

He tried to send one of his cobwebs towards your hands but you could sense it before, undoing them with your powers.

"You are too predictable, Spider-Man." you said the name with contempt.

"You have to stop, you don't know what kind of consequences that can bring." He pointed to the pit with his hand, as he slowly approached you.

When he saw that you didn't move, he took the opportunity to get closer and take you in his arms, but you immediately turned to dust between his fingers.

"Wha-?" And suddenly the whole scene changed, he wasn't wearing his Spider-Man suit and he wasn't in the pit anymore, he thought you had teleported him or something similar but when he turned around and looked at you behind him, but without that scarlet red suit, if not you in your usual way got even more confused.

"Hi sweetheart." You smiled looking at him sweetly, he frowned as he looked at you.

"What are we doing here?" he asked looking around him, both were on your apartment.

"Listen, you have to let her do what she plans to do, you can't stop her." You denied looking at him with anguish.

"We don't know what kind of side effects it can bring, y/n."

"Listen to me, will you, love?" You were getting closer to him little by little. He wasn't entirely confident that it was you, but he still gave you the benefit of the doubt. "No one will be able to stop her, believe me when I tell you." You nodded looking directly into his eyes.

"But..."

"Shh, nobody." you finally denied taking him by the cheeks, he looked at you without understanding anything.

Your biggest mistake was standing in front of a mirror. Because if you had already convinced him, seeing that Scarlet Witch was in the reflection holding him by the cheeks and not you, he finally reacted.

"I'm so sorry." He murmured looking at you, you frowned without understanding what he was saying.

With one of his webs he took a knife. It took all of his willpower to do it but he finally rammed it into your chest, stabbing into you.

"I'm sorry." he repeated like a prayer as the scenery around them fell apart, returning you to the pit.

Seeing that he was still standing, he looked everywhere, trying to find you as Scarlet Witch, but when he looked at the ground and saw your normal form, he felt too strong a pressure on his chest.

"No no no no." He denied several times, taking off his mask and kneeling next to you. "Please no." he sobbed looking at your dead form in his arms.

He really didn't believe what Scarlet had said, if she died you too.

"I'm so sorry."

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.

[alyswritings]

Not Peter Pt. 2

Peter Parker x sister!reader

Request: hi, i was wondering if you could do a part 2 of not peter ??

Summary: Continuation of Not Peter.

Warnings: takes place in nwh, sad

a/n: thank you for the request! Hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

The five got to the school and made it up to the roof. Ned, MJ, and Y/N found their version of Peter sitting on the roof, the other two Peters staying back. The three immediately went over to him and hugged him, causing Peter to break and start quietly sobbing.

Peter looks around, finding Y/N, the two sharing a pained look. Peter goes to apologize to her, but stops when he senses something, his expression changing and his cries quietening.

"Peter, there's... there's some people here." MJ quietly informs as they break the group hug. They stand up, Peter protectively moving in front of his the three, looking up to two figures at the top of the building. The two figures jump down, landing.

"Hey, wait, wait, whoa." Peter objects. He looks between them confused, seeing two guys that are older than him, one in a Spider-Man suit. The two hold their hands up, assuring they're not going to attack.

"Sorry... about May." Peter 2 says.

"Yeah. Sorry. I got some understanding of what--"

"No, no, no." Peter cuts Peter 3 off. "Please don't tell me that you know what I'm going through."

"Okay." Peter 3 whispers.

"She's gone. And it's all my fault." Peter 1 says. "She died for nothing. So I'm gonna do what I should've done in the first place."

"Peter--"

"Please don't. You don't belong here. Neither do you. So I'm sending you all home. Those other guys are from your worlds, right?" Peter asks and the older two nod. "So you deal with it. If they die, if you kill them, that's on you. It's not my problem. I don't care anymore. I'm done."

"I'm really sorry that I dragged you into this. But you have to go home now. Good luck." Peter reaches for the box in MJ's hands, but she pulls it out of his reach. He looks at her confused and she motions to the other two.

"My Uncle Ben was killed." Peter 2 starts. "It was my fault."

"I lost... I lost Gwen. My, um... she was my MJ." Peter 3 says, holding back tears. "I couldn't save her. I'm never gonna be able to forgive myself for that. But I carried on. Tried to, um... tried to keep going. Tried to keep being the, uh... the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, because I know that's what she would've wanted."

"But at some point I just stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. I got bitter. I just don't want you to end up like... like me."

"The night Ben died, I hunted down the man who I thought did it. I wanted him dead. I got what I wanted. It didn't make it better. It took me a long time to... learn to get through that darkness." Peter 2 says.

"I wanna kill him. I wanna tear him apart." Peter states, glancing at Y/N who is still silently crying. "I can still hear her voice in my head." He starts crying again. "Even after she was hurt, she said to me that we had did the right thing. She told me that with great power..."

"Comes great responsibility." Peter 2 finishes, looking over at Peter 3 who nods.

"Wait, how do you know that?" Peter 1 asks.

"Uncle Ben said it." Peter 3 says.

"The day he died." Peter 2 says. "Maybe she didn't die for nothing, Peter."

- - -

They're in the science lab and are working on cures for the villains. Y/N goes over to Peter 2 and Peter 3.

"So, is there a me in your world?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, she's a writer. Writes fiction books." Peter 2 says.

"Cool." Y/N grins before looking over at Peter 3 expectantly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I got a little sister version of you." Peter 3 nods. "She's a fashion designer."

"Cool." Y/N grins again and Peter 3 softly chuckles, Y/N reminding him of his own Y/N.

After a bit, Y/N is with Ned while he fixes Peter 1's web fluid. Peter walks over.

"Hey, uh, can I talk to you?" He asks his sister. Y/N nods and the two walk away a bit. Ned gives his friend an awkward face which once again confuses Peter.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks her brother.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Peter softly chuckles.

"Younger siblings can be caring too, you know?" Y/N retorts.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." Peter quietly says. "I'm sorry, Y/N/N."

"For what?" Y/N asks, confused.

"I-I couldn't save her. We were close and I thought she was fine, but I... I couldn't. It was too late." Peter says, his eyes getting teary.

"Pete, it... it's not your fault. You-You did your best. I-- I don't blame you." Y/N says. "If I'm blaming anybody, it's the one who killed her."

"Which was practically me." Peter mumbles.

"No, it wasn't. Look, you've wanted to cure these guys from the beginning. May helping is her helping because she was a good person. Her de-- her death isn't on either of you. I don't know why you think it would be, it's not." Y/N says.

"But now we have nothing. We-We could go into foster care and get separated or something. Or I mean, I'm almost 18, so I could try to get custody of you, but I don't know if that'd work out well." Peter says.

"And we can figure that out later. But it's not your fault." Y/N says.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Peter nods, but she knows he still doesn't really believe her. Y/N hugs Peter tightly and he returns the hug just as tightly, burying her face in her shoulder.

"I love you." She mumbles into his shoulder, letting a few tears fall.

"I love you, too." Peter quietly responds, blinking back any more tears from falling down his face. He's the older sibling. He needs to stay strong. For Y/N. For May. He needs to be comforting Y/N, not the other way around.

Peter sniffles as he pulls back.

"We're gonna figure it out. I'm gonna take care of you. I won't let anything happen to you." Peter assures. Despite knowing he can't completely control that, Y/N nods, managing a small smile.

Peter pulls her into a hug, resting his chin on top of her head and holding onto her tightly and he kisses the top of her head, both siblings silently grieving at the time.

What neither of them knew at the moment was that just hours later, Y/N Parker would have absolutely no memory of her big brother.

[parkers-gal]

can you do a rogers!daughter x Peter Parker where he confesses his love to her after a battle and the avengers hear on coms

loved this a lot <3 (might do a part two. lemme know if y’all are interested hehe)

｡☆✼★━━ requests are closed ━━★✼☆｡

You’re paired with Wanda and Clint for the latest mission: invading HYDRA for the super-soldier serum. It’s hard work, and you’ve been fighting for a good hour. You’re getting closer to the center, and as you consistently report back to your dad and Tony through the comms, you can’t help but feel like something else is bound to happen. Sure, you’re your father’s kid, and maybe you inherited a few of his enhanced abilities, but you’re wearing down the line and your muscles are starting to ache in that familiar overworked way.

“How’s it going down there?” You hear your dad through your earpiece, and with a final punch to one of the guards, you wheeze out a response.

“Fine, just clearing out the area. Are we clear to enter yet?”

“Almost.”

You hum, turning the corner with your gun up front, just as Natasha had trained you so many times before. “I’m all clear over here.”

“Proceed to the lab. Tell me if anything goes sou-”

You don’t get to hear the end of your dad’s sentence, because somebody sends you a harsh blow to the side of your head, momentarily interfering with your senses. You go stumbling to the floor, muttering a quick “fuck” under your breath.

Turning over, you move to get up, but somebody picks you up by the collar of your suit. Suddenly, you feel cold metal against your temple and you know someone’s pointing a gun at you.

“Make a move and you’re dead meat,” he seethes out. His grip on you is strong, and you blink away harsh tears while attempting to stop your winced expressions of pain. You swallow thickly, and more voices come in through your comms.

“Y/N?” Steve yells, worried. “Y/N are you okay?”

Wanda’s voice runs through your ears, “Steve, someone’s holding her hostage!”

“Who’s down?” Tony butts in.

“Y/N,” Sam fills in. “Scanner shows a gun to her head.”

“Wait, Y/N?” You hear Peter, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. God, what you would give to be with Peter instead of this HYDRA agent. “Is she alright? What’s happening? Where is she?”

“Kid, I need you to not panic,” Tony says, thrusting upwards while he flies over a portion of the building to find Steve. “Y/N’s got a gun to her head and we can’t risk anything right now.”

“Right,” Peter swallows, “Sorry.”

“Does anyone have any ideas?” Wanda inquires before sending another agent flying into the wall.

“I do,” your father barks, vibranium shield coming into contact with a man who has a gun. He pushes the door open, “Attack.” He makes his way through the hallways and corridors, hoping to find any trace of you.

“Steve, you need to be careful. We don’t know what this guy can do.” Sam reports flying alongside Tony while the two of them find Peter webbing a few people to the walls of the building.

“You okay, kid?”

Peter nods at his mentor’s question. “We need to help Y/N.” His voice comes off frantic and worried, and if this were any other occasion, Tony would’ve teased him for being so protective of you.

“Tell me what you’re here for,” the man with a gun and an awfully shaved beard questions you, the gun nudging further into the side of your head.

Your jaw clenches and you swallow again, “I’m not telling you anything.”

The man makes a move to do something, and you know it can’t be good.

Suddenly, the hairs on Peter’s neck stand upright and his Peter Tingle goes off hazardously. He pauses where he is, stopping his movement while he blinks in surprise, senses going into overload. Suddenly, he makes the connection, and in a split second, he’s running so fast Tony can’t even register where he’s going and what he’s doing.

“Kid! Hey!”

Peter bursts through the door, web slinging and snatching the weapon right out the agent’s hand before he can even blink. You gasp in surprise, head shooting in the direction of Spider-man.

Peter blows a hit to the man’s head, successfully knocking him out in one hit. He’s at your side in seconds, questions flying out while you try to adjust to the quick change in situation.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Peter, I’m fine,” You assure him, bringing his hands away from your face.

He doesn’t get the message though, and his hands fly back up to your face, allowing you to nuzzle into his glove-clad palm. He uses his hands to turn your face, inspecting your eyes and cheeks and jaw for scratches and bruises. He’s muttering under his breath, frantic and paranoid.

“Pete, Pete,” You hold both of his hands, keeping them away from your face. “I’m fine. Are you alright? Why’re you so worried?”

The eyes of his suit widen and he backtracks slightly, but not enough to lose physical contact with you.

“Why am I so worried? You just had a gun to your head, Y/N! You could’ve died!”

“But I didn’t.”

“But you could’ve!” He huffs, neither of you realizing that the entire team can hear you through the comms — and that they are. “That guy could’ve killed you! We could’ve lost you- I could’ve lost you!”

“Peter, it’s part of the job,” You calm him down with a humorless chuckle, slightly wary of where this is going. “This wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. But you saved me,” He tries to dodge your hands but you persist, bringing him close. “You saved me, Peter.”

“But what if I didn’t?”

“You did.”

“But what if I don’t make it next time, huh?! What do I do then?”

You click your tongue, glancing around at the barren room and the man passed out on the floor. You take a step closer to Peter.

“You see that over there?” You point towards the glass container. “That’s the super-soldier serum.” You don’t hear the gasps of the Avengers. “You just saved my life and retrieved them. There’s no ‘what if’ when it comes to your abilities, Peter. You made it.”

He’s quiet for a few beats. “I don’t want to lose you,” He confesses, whispering it while leaning his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

You blink in surprise but his eyes are shut while he stays put against your face. His lips are mere inches from yours, and you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. The two of you are too caught up in the moment to hear everyone else gasping at Peter’s confession.

“Yeah?” You interlock your fingers, your other hand slowly taking the flap of his mask and dragging it up above his lips. His breath fans your face, and your eyelids flutter shut for a moment. “I love you, too.” It comes out as a whisper, and before you know it, Peter’s leaning in and so are you. And for a split second you realize this is your best friend that you’re kissing, but then you realize that it feels so right.

Meanwhile, Tony turns to Steve with wide eyes and Rhodey is mouthing “did you know?” to anyone who can answer. Tony puts his hands up defensively, feigning innocence, and both men turn to look at Steve, who’s beside Bucky and Sam now.

“Well?” Tony whispers?”

“I didn’t know!” Steve defends, grumbling a “not like I’d approve of it anyways.”

“I knew,” Bucky raises his hand.

“Yeah, and me,” Sam agrees and Bucky rolls his eyes with a scoff.

“No you didn’t. She told me.”

“Yeah and she told me, too.”

“Well she told me first.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is! I-”

“Guys!” Wanda cuts them off. She uses her head to motion towards a room, and heads turn in the direction of you and Peter, who are walking out with a briefcase full of the remaining serums.

“We good?” You ask as Peter pulls his mask down over his mouth and nose. Everyone nods and you walk over to your dad’s side.

“You okay, honey?”

“Fine, dad. Let’s just get out of here.”

He nods before looking at Tony. “Circle around the building and report back. Meet you on the quinjet in five.”

Peter smirks behind his mask when he realizes Bucky, Steve and Sam are all going to run their ways back to the jet.

“Race ya!” he yells before grabbing hold of your waist and thwipping up into the air. You scream in delight and Steve watches the two of you leave. Sam laughs at his seemingly protective-dad-mode.

[harrypotter-imaginess]

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine

Part 1 Here!

A/N: I think, maybe one more part and an epilogue and it's done haha.

- “You know I love spending time with you Reg-“

- Regulus looks up from his parchment to meet your eyes

- “But do we really have to hang out here?”

- He looks around the secret chamber in the clocktower in the courtyard you two are currently situated in

- The sliver of golden light streaming in through the clock’s face practically glowing on his parchment

- “Is there something wrong with this place?”

- He used to come here all the time when he was trying to get away from his “friends”

- He thought it was pretty pleasant

- A nice quiet place to study

- You just raise an eyebrow

- “Reg, you seriously see nothing wrong with sitting in a dust-ridden chamber and doing our homework by streams of sunlight?”

- It’s almost pathetic really, you both have to sit right by the face of the clock to get even a sliver of light so you can see where you’re writing/reading

- For a second, a single moment, you wonder if Regulus is ashamed to be seen with you

- But it vanishes as soon as it appears

- No, Reg isn’t like that

- You’ve had faith in him until now, not believing the rumors but instead trusting your eyes, and you’re not going to stop

- You’ve got some regrets

- But you know choosing to trust Regulus will never be one of them

- what Regulus says knocks you off your feet though

- “ I do it all the time at home,” he says automatically with a shrug

- Three seconds later his eyes punch shut

- He shouldn’t have said that

- And sure enough, when his eyes rise to meet yours you’re looking at him with a stern expression

- “They make you study in the dark?!?” You hiss, he imagines you’re whispering so you keep yourself from yelling

- “No they make me read in the dark,” He says it like there’s some great big difference or something.

- Ever since he opened up to you about his home life, you’ve been almost protective of him

- He’s started to patch things up with Sirius, but not in the eyes of others

- Mostly in carefully concealed letters and occasionally in the dead of night in the astronomy tower

- It’s not a ton, they still have to act indifferent to the rest of the world

- For Regulus’s safety

- But it’s already better than it was

- But of course, you don’t know that, he’s been especially careful that you don’t find out because it could mean danger for you

- He’s only opened his mouth, about to tell you:

- ‘It’s not that bad, it’s just when the lights on late at night his parents get suspicious he’s doing something he shouldn’t -which he technically is since he’s mostly reading Muggle books you recommended or writing letters to you- and will warrant a search’

- When you cup his face in your hands

- “You shouldn’t have to do that Reg” your eyes seem glassy, eyebrows threaded together as your lips pull into a fine line

- Adorable really

- It’s cute how you get so upset for him

- He’d have laughed if he wasn’t so away of how soft your hands were as they touched his face

- He shuts his eyes for a moment, relishing in the gentle comfort the skinship brings

- “They’re my family” he murmurs, nuzzling his face into your touch

- He says it like there’s nothing else to say

- Like it’s an irreversible fact of life

- And maybe it is because as long as he’s alive he’ll never be able to change the fact that he and his family are connected

- That he’s a Black

- The thought makes your mouth pull a little tighter

- It makes you angry

- Because when a family is that terrible to you, well it’s nothing more than a curse

- Before you know what you’re doing you squeeze his face and say:

- “Then I’ll be your family from now on”

- .

- ..

- ...

- Regulus’s eyes are wide as he stares at you

- You feel your face grow warm, mouth opening and closing-

- Why did you say that?!?!?

- Your searching for the right words, your hands about to move from his face when his hands cover your own

- “Is that a proposal (Y/N)?”

- There’s a teasing glint in Regulus’s eyes and you feel your face grow even warmer

- You would hide your face if he weren’t holding your hands in place

- “ Regulus (L/N) does have a good ring to it don’t you think?”

- You groan pulling your hands free so you can finally hide

- “Please stop teasing me I didn’t-“

- “Who says I’m teasing?”

- You look at him and he has the most tender expression as his fingers push a strand of hair behind your ears

- “W-what do you mean?”

- His smile doesn’t dim in the slightest, his eyes warm

- He moves closer to you at an impossibly slow pace

- You wait with bated breath

- And when he’s only an inch away he whispers

- “You’re smart (Y/N), so don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out”

- And then he kisses you

- His lips brush against yours

- It’s shy of even a peck

- As he retreats back, eyes fluttering open, you move with him pressing your lips against his more forcefully

- He almost stumbles back from the movement. Catching himself with a hand placed behind his hand

- His other hand threading into your hair

- Regulus has kissed people before

- Underneath the mistletoe at Slughorns Christmas party

- In the gardens at the pureblood balls

- One in a shadow in the corridor

- But it’s never been like this

- Where one kiss turns into two

- And then two into four

- And before he knows what’s happening he’s lost track of how many kisses you’ve exchanged

- All he can think about is the taste of your mouth

- The feel of your hair, the soft skin on your face, the tender feeling of his hands on your waist

- He feels like he’s drunk, almost dizzy with joy, completely intoxicated on you

- He only comes back to his senses when you place a hand on his chest and push back slightly

- “Stop” you whisper, and the world alone is enough to make him feel stone-cold sober

- “Not here, not like this”

- You’re sprawled on the floor of the clocktower, both of your hands pressing against his chest, pressing him back

- And he’s hovering over you, one of his legs pinned on either side of you, one his hands on your face, and the other is underneath the hem of your shirt

- He jerks his hands away from your waist

- When did he get on top of you like this?

- “Sorry I didn’t realize-“ his words stutter to a stop as he moves off of you

- He doesn’t even know when the situation escalated this much

- Weren’t you just exchanging chaste kisses a second ago

- He feels awful, he hasn’t even taken you on a date and he’s already pushing past your boundaries

- But you don’t let him feel awful for too long

- You thread your fingers through his, lifting his hand so you can press kisses to it

- “It’s not that I didn’t like it,” because you did, his hands were so warm, and he smelled so good

- It felt so soft

- So comforting

- But

- “ I just didn’t want to do it here” the place is covered with dust, and you’re pretty sure you felt a spider crawl up your leg at one point

- It’s just not hygienic

- You’re a little nervous you’ve upset him, most guys would

- Most boys wouldn’t have stopped when you told them, offering reasons to keep going, pushing a little bit further than you liked before retreating

- They certainly wouldn’t have found themselves away like Regulus did

- And of course, Regulus doesn’t get upset, how could he?

- He squeezes your hand, looking down at you kindly

- “No it’s okay. I’m more than happy to wait for anything more than a kiss until I’m officially Regulus (L/N)”

- You shove him away and he starts laughing

- “You’re never going to let me live that down are you?” Your face feels like it’s burning

- He only laughs harder, following you when you gather your things and start to leave

- “Don’t tell me you’re taking it back, you’re breaking my maiden heart over here (Y/N)” he grins when he sees you even more embarrassed As you walk through an empty courtyard

- You look mad, but you intertwine your fingers with his when he reaches for your hand

- And for now, it’s enough

Bonus:

- “So does this mean I’m you’re boyfriend now?”

- “Obviously”

- You’re scribbling away into your parchment, rushing to get all the answers down, your hand firmly held in his

- You hope he doesn’t hear how quick your heart is racing

- “So should I tell all our friends were dating with the intention of making me an official (L/N) in mind?”

- “I’m breaking up with you”

[mercurysstars]

The Shadow Thief (part 3)

Summary: What happens when Peter has to work with the girl he hates to possibly save the world.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Violence.

A/n: Sorry it took me so long to post again! I’ve wrote like 3 different versions of this chapter because I didn’t know what direction to go in just yet.

_

"Woah, dude. Did you see this?" Y/n held out Peter's phone shoving it in his face.

Y/n had gone over to Peters house early that morning to get the last finishing touches on their project done. So they both reluctantly decided to walk together to school.

Peter snatched his phone out of Y/n's hands as they crossed the street. "How did you even get my phone? It was in my hands." She shrugged and pointed back at the article.

Peter scrolled down the page. Incoming reports say Avengers went on a mission and since gone MIA. How didn't he know about this? And why didn't the Avengers at least tell him they were going to be gone. Peter was confused, to say the least. Were they in trouble? No, they couldn't be they are the earth's mightiest heroes. Right?

"They probably just had to extend their mission and forgot to report back in." Or at least he hoped. He didn't want to think of the latter. He decided after school he would go to the compound and make sure everything was alright.

"If you say so." They walked up the stairs to the second floor of the school.  Peter opened the door and they both walked into English. Y/n took her seat next to Mj and Peter next to Ned.

The thought of the Avengers missing did worry Y/n a bit. She wasn't a big fan of superheroes but she also was not, not a fan. It was complicated. Sure she liked the security of having someone to save the day. But she hated that they pretended to be better than everyone else. They judge criminals as they themselves have never done anything wrong. They tend to blame everything on everyone else and never take responsibility.

Y/n felt a nudge to her arm. She turned her head to face Mj. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"No, no it's alright I'm just thinking," Y/n said. She pulled out her laptop and opened her and Peter's presentation to have it ready just in case they had to go first.

Their opening slide was a picture of Anne Frank surrounded by a pretty border and Anne Frank’s name in cursive in the middle. Peter insisted their project had to look nice and not like some shitty last-minute one like she had originally done. Y/n had teased Peter relentlessly about it saying maybe he should be a graphic designer instead of Spider-Man. And he of course huffed and pretended to ignore her.

"Well, you just looked worried. Anyways tell me if you need any help." Y/n gave Mj a grateful smile. Y/n knew Mj could have this cold, hard exterior but she knew she secretly cared.

The bell rang signaling the first period started. The teacher stood up from her desk and walked to the front of the room clasping her hands together. "Good morning class. Today is the first official day for our presentations. We'll be picking who goes first by random. Any questions?"

One girl toward the front of the classroom stuck up her hand "Yes, Betty."

"Did you see the news? About the avengers?" The class erupted within hushed conversation everyone stating their theories of what happened and their worries.

"Alright, class settle down. I did see but we will continue like normal." She said. It kind of seemed like to Y/n she didn't care at all but she didn't really think anything of it.

The phone rang and the teacher quickly excused herself. Y/n picked at her fingers mindlessly. The teacher muttered a few words into the phone and hung up "Y/n, Peter." Her eyes snapped up at the sound of her name "They want you down in the office. And bring your things."

Y/n furrowed her brows. Her eyes met Peters "What did you do?" He mouthed just as confused as her.

What did she do? What the hell did he do. She hasn't done anything wrong. Well, at least nothing she gotten caught for.  "Dude if anyone did anything it was you! I've only been here for like 3 weeks." She whispered-yelled back.

He put his hands up defensively. Y/n shoved all of her things in her bag and zipped it up. Mj raised an eyebrow at her and Y/n just shrugged with a clueless look on her face.

Y/n walked over to the door opening it with her free hand while her chrome book was in the other.  Peter followed not too far behind. They step out and began to walk down the hallway shoulder to shoulder not a word muttered between them.

The hall was empty. No teacher, no janitor, no late students, not even the common lost freshman. It was strange to Y/n. She turned to Peter "This is weird. It's almost like it's too."

"Quiet." He finished for her. Peter felt off. His spidey sense wasn't alarming him with anything but it was almost like a gut feeling you'd get when some strange guy came up to you at a party being a little too friendly.

"Yeah." Exactly. They continued down the hall both on high alert. When they passed a window Y/n could see two men dressed in suits around the corner through the reflection.

"I think they're following us." She whispered to Peter. Y/n has picked up a thing or two of trying not to be noticed but the men behind them didn't seem like they cared much for subtlety. They had their eyes set on Y/n and Peter taking wide quick steps.

This time his spidey sense went off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Peter reached for his web-shooters "We need to get out of here."

"You think?" Y/n back said in an aggravated tone. The next time they passed by a window she could see them screw something together slowly by their side.

Y/n glanced down to get a better look, it was a gun. All she could hear was the beating of her heart thumping loudly in her ears. Thinking quickly Y/n shoved Peter into a locker. A bullet whizzed past where his head once was and made a tiny thump when it hit the wall.

His eyes went wide momentarily stunned before he sprung into action. He shot out a web, grabbed the gun out of the man's hand, and flung it across the hall, making sure he couldn't get to it.

The men paused for a minute before muttering something to each other end breaking into a spring toward them. Well mostly at Peter luckily for her but still in her direction. Peter began to fight the one whose gun he had stolen hand to hand. The man got in a punch to Peter's face. Peter tripped him and tied him up with his webs.

The second man was coming toward her. Before she could second guess herself Y/n took her chrome book and slapped the man across the face with it. The man was momentarily shocked and Y/n opened an unlocked locker hitting him in the face. She watched him slide down the lockers unconscious.

More men turned the corner and came down the hallway. Y/n kicked a waist-length garbage can with wheels toward them as a small distraction. Peter grabbed Y/n pulling her into an empty classroom.

Y/n locked the door before she grabbed Peter and dragged him further into the classroom into a supply closet. They both crouched behind a mop bucket leaving the door cracked for a tiny bit of light.

"Would you like to tell me why there's someone outside this classroom trying to blow my brain out!" She huffed.

"Don't ask me. For all, we know they could be after you!" They both flinched as they heard the door handle shake.

"They were attacking you. Shooting at you. And you'd have a bullet in the back of your head if I didn't push you out of the way if I might add." She poked him in the chest.

The men began to start kicking at the door trying to break it down "Maybe if we figure out who they are we can get out of this."

"You know what I have an idea." Y/n reached back and grabbed the gun out of the waistband of her pants. Y/n started not to care much for introductions when they tried to assassinate her. Her motto was to shoot first ask questions later because she was not going down without a fight.

"What the hell Y/n! Where did you even get a gun?" Peter tried to put some distance between them but failed and ended up bumping into a shelf.

"Calm down bug boy I'm not going to shoot you." She rolled her eyes "I grabbed it off the guy while I smashed my laptop over his head."

"You are not shooting anyone!" He exclaimed. He was going to die with a psychopath. A literal psychopath. What would his uncle Ben say if he could see him right now?

"Fine whatever. How many webs do you have left?"

"Only one." He muttered.

"Only one! How the hell do you only have only one web left?" Oh lord. She was going to die in a janitor's closet with an idiot.

"Oh well, I'm sorry I didn't know I would have someone trying to paint the walls with my organs. I must have forgotten to mark it on my calendar!"

"Oh god, Okay." Y/n rubbed her forehead with her free hand.

She took the clip out of her gun and counted the bullets she had. Two. Okay, she could work with that, Somehow. She just had to live long enough to beat Peter up for almost getting them killed.

She turned back to Peter "Alright here's the plan so we are going to jump out of the window and see just how far that web can exactly get us." She could hear the pounds on the door getting more frequent and if she was being honest she was surprised it held this long.

"Are you crazy! You going to get us both killed." He didn't need the answer because he already knew she was. He swore he could see the shadows swirl around her for a moment but as quickly as it was there it was gone.

"Do you have any better ideas because I'm all ears, Parker?" He didn't say anything and just ran a hand through his hair letting out a frustrated sigh.

"That's what I thought." Y/n knew there was a good chance that they get hit by incoming traffic like a bug on a windshield but it was either that or the SWAT team outside.

"Let's get this over with." Said Y/n. They both stepped outside of the closet. The men outside the room gave the door one last kick and it broke off of the hinges. "Go." That was all Peter said.

Y/n shot the window with the two bullets she had. Peter ran over to Y/n and grabbed onto her tightly. They jumped through the window shattering it. Peter shoots out his last web hooking onto a nearby tree. At the peak of the swing, Peter let go of the web. They flew over the traffic narrowly avoiding the cars.

When they finally reached the ground they hit it hard. Peter took most of the impact but Y/n still hit her head. They continued to hold tightly onto each other as they rolled through the grass from the momentum of the swing.

They came to a slow stop and Y/n landed on top of Peter. She slumped off to the side of him and sat up. Peter did the same but with a groan feeling all of the bones in his body.

He noticed blood began to trickle out of Y/n's nose. "You got something." He pointed to her nose.

She wiped under her nostrils with her fingers and then again with the bottom of her shirt without a second thought "Oh, Thanks."

Peter rested his head on his knees. What was he going to do? As much as he didn't like Y/n he felt bad for dragging her into this. "We need to get going they are going to come looking for us soon."

"Where are we going to go?" The light was starting to become too much so Y/n put her hand over her eyes to shield her from the sun. She was starting to get a headache and just wanted to lay down. Peter stood up and dusted off his shirt and pants.

"Avengers compound." He held out a hand to her. She took it and he pulls her up onto her feet. They began to walk toward the street.

"I just don't know how we are going to get there." He added. They made it onto the sidewalk. Y/n was stumbling around so Peter kept his pace slow so she could keep up with him.

Y/n stopped walking "What do you think of this car?" She nodded to a 1997 Honda Accord.

"It's cool I guess." He said confused the car was a little old but he didn't say anything.

"Alright good. Now hand me your web-shooters." She held out her hand toward him.

"Okay?" He didn't really know what she was trying to get at. Peter just assumed she hit her head too hard but he complied anyway.

Y/n crouched down facing the car. She broke his web-shooters over her knee taking out two long curved metal pieces. She handed him back the rest of his broken web-shooters. Peter stared at her wide-eyed as she stuck the two metal pieces into the lock of the car.

"What are you doing." He hissed. Peter walked closer to Y/n trying to cover her as she picked the lock to the car.

"I just gave our problem a solution." She said without looking. She continued to twist the pieces around until she heard a little click. She gave a little cheer and opened the door.

"Yeah by stealing someone's car. Need I remind you is illegal."

" I like to think of it as borrowing. Besides I will happily leave you if you wish." She rolled her eyes. God, her head was throbbing.

Y/n took the plastic cover off of the steering column. There were three sets of wires and she grabbed the middle one. Y/n cut the red and blue wire. She touched the wires together until she heard the car start. She smiled to herself and lastly twisted the wires together.

She turned to Peter "Are you getting in or what?"

Peter looked around and then sighed "Fine, but I'm driving."

"What? No way, you don't even look old enough to drive." She crossed her arms.

"You have a concussion so I'm our best bet at not dying." He gave Y/n a sarcastic smile.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes but got out of the driver's seat.

"You know if you keep rolling your eyes they are going to get stuck like that." She flicked him off and he laughed.

Y/n basically collapsed into the passengers seat. Peter closed his door and started the car. He pulled into the street and Y/n rested her head against the window. The cool glass felt nice against her forehead. She notice a bruise on Peter's pale cheek from when he got hit earlier.

Every now and again he would glance at Y/n to see how she was doing. He figured she must not feel the best because she hasn't said one witty remark since they got into the car.

He hoped by now the Avengers were back at the compound and could Tell them what's going on and who was following them.

He looked over to her again and she had her eyes close. He jabbed her with his elbow "Hey, don't fall sleep. You might not wake back up."

"Hmm Okay." She said but didn't budge.

"I'm serious Y/n, open your eyes." Peter was starting to get worried. It wasn't that he cared about her. But he didn't know what to do with a dead body. Or at least that's what he told himself.

"Don't get your panties into a bunch, my eyes are open."

They pulled into the road of the compound. When it came into view Y/n suddenly sat up wide eyed "Holy shit."

"What?" Peter took his eyes off of Y/n and followed her line of sight.

"What the fu-"

Part 4

Taglist

@fandom-strumpet • @ginger-swag-rapunzel • @libraries-and-coffee

[harryspet]

why won’t you love me | peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x dark reader, yandere reader, sub!peter, dom!reader, crime boss au, stalker au, senior year au, kidnapping, violence, underage drinking, noncon sex, oral sex (male receiving), bondage, peter and reader are 18

A/N: This is inspired by two ideas I received as well as the lyrics  “I will have you, yes, I will have you. I will find a way and I will have you. Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly, I will collect you and capture you.” Obsession- Animotion for @mariessecretfantasies​ 500 Follower Writing Challenge! Please go follow her and read her dark fics :)

TRIGGERING ADULT CONTENT AHEAD

In which Peter won’t love you so you force him to. 

word count: 3.4k

main masterlist 

Mr. Shum was famous. You, his daughter, were not. This led you to hosting parties at your father’s mansion to up your cool points. It was senior year and, since everyone wanted to party, you were often the one people called. Your father didn’t mind, it only solidified his cover as a gracious and kind businessman. His kind eyes and humor was enough to make a lot of believe it but you knew that you were the only person he was kind to. 

You’d seen enough severed limbs to know that was true. 

Brad had set the entire thing up and all you had to do was order your servants to get things in order. Peter was coming tonight and you’d finally get the chance to properly thank him for saving your life a few months ago. Maybe you’d even confess your feelings and the life you always dreamed of would start tonight. 

Maybe you’d start with like instead of love. You loved him but maybe telling him that would scare him away. You didn’t want him to run from you. 

You had known Peter since fifth grade but he still felt out of touch with him. You were never more than friends. Not even close friends, practically acquaintances. That was going to change. 

The dress you were wearing was completely out of your comfort zone but you did your best to dress like the other girls did at your school. It was a silver body con dress that gripped your curves and highlighted features that you didn’t even know you had. When Brad saw you, his mouth was completely agape, “Woah, you look great!” Your mouth began to tug into a smile but, before you knew it, he was shoving a large paper bag into your hands, “Put this in the punch, will you?”

You looked down to see several bottles of vodka, “Is that safe?” You asked, your tone worried. 

“Yeah, of course,” Brad insisted, starting to walk away, “This is going to be amazing, Y/N!”

You sighed walking over to the refreshments table. People were already starting to show up and soon the entire senior class would be there. You twisted open the bottles and poured them to the glass bowl. It wasn’t long before kids were shoving their red cups into the mixture. 

After you were done, you simply dusted your hands together and went to look for your spider darling. Your giant living room flashed with multicolored lights as a song by a rapper you didn’t know played loudly over everyone’s shouting. Like instinct, you could sense where he was. You found him slouched against a white pillar, sipping at a red solo cup. 

He was wearing one of his nice button ups and a pair of jeans. Oh god, you loved the color blue on him. Any color looked good on him actually, “Hi, Peter,” You smiled, tapping his shoulder. He seemed to be distracted but you blamed it on the alcohol, “Enjoying the party?”

As his head turned and those brown eyes looked into yours, your heart melted, “Y-Yeah,” He stuttered awkwardly, leaning his hand against the pillar, “Your house i-is beautiful … nice decor.”

“You think so?” You tried not to seem eager as you imagined Peter coming over all of the time. After school to study … maybe the two of you taking a dip into the pool. You imagined that his body was heavenly. Sculpted by a God-

“Yeah, it’s great,” Peter grinned. He grinned at you, “Y-You look nice. I’ve never seen you dress like that.” Did he think you were cute or was he trying to spare your feelings? Did he prefer how you normally dressed? You were overthinking. 

“I’m trying something new. You look nice too,” Peter nodded his thanks, “You’re drinking?” You gestured to his cup. 

“Nope, sprite,” Peter said, “May would kill me and I have to make sure Ned gets home in one piece. I don’t know if alcohol is really my thing…”

Did he look down on you because you were throwing a party that was serving alcohol? Did he look down on you because you were drinking? You held your cup close to your side as you said, “Me too. I mean, I don’t really get the people who can only have fun when they’re drunk …” You were sure your conversation wasn’t going well but Peter still seemed to be receptive to you. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he did have feelings for you, “So, we’ve missed you at Academic Bowl.”

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Peter said, causing your cheeks to heat. You knew he was referring to everyone in Academic Bowl but you couldn’t help but take it personally, “I wish I had the time. This moment right here is the only freedom I’ve had in like six months.”

“And you’re spending it caring for a drunk Ned?” You raised an eyebrow. 

Peter shrugged, chuckling, “Well, when you say it like that it sounds crazy,” You loved his laugh. You loved how he nervously tucked his hand into his front pocket. 

“Peter, I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while,” He perked up and looked at you attentively like he actually cared. You played with the ends of your dress nervously, looking down a bit as you decided to finally let your feelings go, “That day on the bridge when our bus was about to go over the edge … I never knew real fear until then. I thought I’d experienced all the trauma in the world but nothing could compare to that a-and you save me. I’ve never really met someone who’s cared for other people so much … It made me start thinking,like  actually thinking about things and-”

As you looked up, you noticed he was looking past you. He had completely tuned out of your speech, and as you turned your head, you got a glimpse of what he was looking at. MJ was standing by the mantle of the fireplace, talking to some girl. 

You couldn’t breathe. Your heart was shattering. Peter reached out to grab your shoulder, “I’m so sorry. Keep going, please.”

You shook your head, a fake smile on your lips, “It’s fine. I have to do something. Thanks for coming!” You scurried off before he could utter another world. The moment you turned back, he was already gone and walking over to MJ. 

You crushed your cup, causing the liquid to spill out. 

You could kill MJ. She already broke Peter’s heart so why was he running back to her? Why couldn’t she let you have him? Why was everyone so hell-bent on destroying your happiness? Your thoughts were overwhelming and the only thing that seemed to keep them at bay was Brad’s special punch. 

+

You tossed your cup down, watching it fall three stories to the ground. Looking over, you wondered if you could survive the drop. As you lost your balance for a moment, you pressed your back against the roof, giggling. Your world was spinning so much. 

It was a wonder that you hadn’t fallen off from climbing up here in the first place. You took a deep breath and pulled out your phone. You scrolled through your contacts, your vision blurry, before recognizing the heart emojis attached to his name. 

You closed your eyes for a moment as you pressed the phone to your ear. You guessed he was in the middle of a conversation, the hint of laughter and joy in his voice, “Y/N? You’re calling me from your own party?”

His voice only reminded you of why you loved him in the first place. You hated the control he had over your every emotion. You hated how you craved him and he remained oblivious to it.

“I didn’t … I didn’t want to throw the party. I just wanted to see you. I wanted you to see me in this dress,” Your voice was solemn as you slurred into the phone. 

“I got that you had to tell me something but then you stormed off … You sound very drunk. Where are you exactly?”

You shook your head as if Peter could see you right now. You opened your eyes and the night sky was above you, “I try so hard … nothing ever works out the way I want.”

“You try so hard to do what? Where are you, Y/N?” You could hear him moving around, his feet shuffling, and the murmur of Pop music. 

You looked around, “On the roof … I needed fresh air.”

“On the roof? And you’re drunk?”

“I think …” Your voice trailed off, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m over everything. I was being crazy. I get so attached sometimes even though it hurts me-”

“Please don’t move, Y/N,  I’m going to help you down,” You sat up from your position which only made your head spin more. 

“Peter, just listen to me! You never listen to me,” You pouted, “You never see me. I have to accept that it’s never going to change. You’re gonna chase the girls who break your heart, not the ones willing to love you …. Peter? Peter?” You heard nothing from the other side. 

Before you even had time to be disappointed, Peter’s head peeked over the side of the roof, “How did you even get up here?” Peter groaned, lifting himself up. He was still a good twenty feet away from where you had wandered on the slanted roof. 

Peter actually came. He cared enough to talk to you in person. You’d been wrong about him. It caused you to grin but Peter’s face only held worry. Peter began to slide towards you, even taking a second to look over and see how far the drop was, “Give me your hand,” He ordered you as he moved closer. 

You proceeded to pull your feet from over the edge and try to stand up, “Just let me tell you how I feel-”

“Y/N,” He whisper shouted your name, attempting to not frazzle you, “Sit back down, please.”

“If I don’t tell you now then I’ll never get the chance!” You slurred, trying not to stumble.

“You’re going to kill yourself, please sit back down,” Peter said back, every step closer only caused you to step back. Peter stopped, subtly trying to equip his web-shooters.

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t want to live in a world where you’re not mine-” A shriek left your lips as you finally stepped the wrong way and you fell over the edge. You waited for the impact but the jolt you felt was not from the pavement. You were spinning and, as you looked up, a web was connecting you to Peter. 

Peter let out a heavy sigh as he pulled you up. He carried you back to the balcony. The two of you didn’t stay upright for long because your knees gave out and Peter caught you with his arms. He softly brought you to the ground and you stared up into those brown eyes with admiration. 

He saved you. 

You reached up to touch his cheek, “Y-You love me?”

“Jesus,” Peter shook his head, “What?”

Suddenly, you were sober. 

You noticed a crowd had gathered around the two of you. You looked like a disaster, your dress riding high, and your mascara running down your face. Peter pulled your hand away, an exhausted look on his face. He stood up before saying, “Can someone get her some water? And find her somewhere to sleep?” That was all he said before he left the balcony. 

This was different than any other rejection you had ever felt. 

+

“Darling, it’s the ninth day you haven’t gone to school.”

You didn’t look up from your desk as your father entered your room. You were still typing at your computer, writing a scientific article for your organic chemistry class. You were still typing away as you felt a hand on your shoulder. It caused you to pause as your lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’m getting my work done,” You said to him, still not willing to look at him. You weren’t going to school and you were using your work to distract you from the fact that you asked Peter Parker if he loved you in front of a bunch of people. Not to mention that you drunkenly fell off your own roof. 

Peter hadn’t attempted to contact you, and judging by the talk you heard online, you were officially psychotic in everyone’s minds. 

Your father set a white box on your desk and you immediately recognized the log. DONATELLI”S PASTRIES. You opened the box to find your favorite, a red velvet cupcake, “Thank you,” You said, your mood threatening to improve. 

Your father sure did know how to buy your affection. 

He sighed before saying, “I hate to see that boy breaking my little girl’s heart. First, he threatens my business, a goddamn child is getting my partners arrested, and now this. I preferred it when he was fighting aliens.”

Your fist clenched tightly as you listened, “Superheros think they can do whatever they want.”

Your father agreed, “I really came in here to propose an idea to you,” You perked up at that, “What if I told you I could take care of your spider-boy problem?”

“How?”

“It’s a matter of keeping him distracted long enough to strike. Putting civilian lives on the line seems to do it for him. Besides that, I’ve come into a very valuable resource that will keep him sedated long enough to toss him into the Hudson and makes sure he sinks to the bottom.”

You thought for a long moment, “I don’t want you to kill him, Dad.”

Your father cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow raised, “You know you collect things … Mr. Medina’s left pinky … that police officer’s badge,” Your father was well aware of what he did with his enemies but he had not expected his daughter to take after him, “I want to add him to my collection.”

“I see,” Your father nodded, “Then it’s done. Anything for my little girl.”

A spider for your collection. 

You smiled wickedly. 

+

It was a screaming bus of children. That’s what landed Spiderman in the clutches of Mr. Shum. Luckily, they had survived but Peter wasn’t sure if he would. His face was dripping with blood and the bullet wound to his abdomen didn’t look to be healing anytime soon. 

Peter hung from the ceiling by his wrist, the chains he suspected were made of vibranium or at least a knock off version of it. His spidey sense was completely off and his swollen eyes didn’t even allow him to see the punches as they came. 

Peter fought as hard as he could but the darkness eventually consumed him. 

He awoke to the feeling of warmth being pressed to his skin. As his eyes slowly opened, he found a smiling you hovering over you. Immediately Peter jolted up but was pulled back by chains attached to the bedpost. As he attempted to move his legs, he felt the same thing. 

You shushed him, “Hey, calm down, you’re going to tear your stitches,” You whispered, dabbing the wet cloth against his face. Peter flinched at your touch but you kept it up. You were straddling his waist and as Peter looked down he realized he was completely naked, “I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon-”

“Y/N, what the hell is going on?” Peter’s voice was tired, desperate, his face starting to turn red, “Where are my clothes?”

“I had to give you a bath, it’s been days since you passed out,” You told him and it frightened Peter how calm you were, “I’m not like my father, I’m going to take care of you. He just had to show you what would happen if you tried to hurt me.”

Peter watched as you hinted at his bandaged abdomen, “Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” You grinned, running your hands over his muscular chest. You assumed right. His body was completely perfect and now it was all yours.

“Don’t say that,” Peter winced.

You leaned down closer to his face, “I’ve loved you for a long time, Peter.”

“Don’t say that!” Peter started pulling at the chain again which only led you to press your fingers, hard into the bandage on his abdomen. The boy cried out in pain and it broke your heart. 

“Why don’t you love me too?” You asked, starting to grow frustrated, “I love you so much but you don’t even care! Why can’t you just love me back?”

“Because that’s crazy!” He shouted back, “We’re only friends and kidnapping me is not going to change that!”

“Kidnap?” You questioned, shaking your hand, “You are my one and only love, Peter. How can it be kidnapping if I must be with you? If I must have you as my soulmate?”

“Y/N, please. My family and this city needs me-”

“And MJ needs you?” You pressed your hand against his chest, staring him down, “Huh? The girl who rejects you and yet you chase her while I’m here willing to love you. If only you loved me back-”

“Y/N,” Peter tried to calm himself and ration with you, “If you just let me go, we could make this work. You’re right, I’ve been blind. I’ve been chasing MJ when I should’ve been chasing you.”

Your shoulders slumped and your eyes seemed to lighten as you heard his words, “You mean it?” 

Peter nodded eagerly, “Y-Yes, and we could go on a date together. We could get to know each other more,” You were nodding now, the idea of it sounding completely magical. This was all you ever wanted, “If you undo the chains, we could do that.”

Your mouth quickly turned to a frown and you sighed. Peter watched as you went still, “I can’t risk it. You’ve shown me time and time again that you don’t know what’s good for you,” Peter shook his head, the fear starting to settle in as your hands rubbed up and down his chest. Peter continued to flinch as they moved lower, towards the area between his legs, “You’ll have to learn to love me, Peter.”

“S-Stop,” Peter begged as you finger traced along his length. Like the teenage boy you knew he was, he easily started to grow hard beneath your grasp. 

“I’m not one of those girls who thinks you should save your virginity for marriage. I think you should wait until you meet the right person,” You palmed his cock in your hand, feeling it getting harder. You watched as he pulled at his chains and his face contorted into different expressions of disgust and desperation, “And you’re my person, Peter.”

You licked your palm, lubricating it before placing it back on his cock. You pulled and tugged, pumping up and down. You smirked as moans threatened to escape those pink lips. You leaned down and, as Peter turned his head, you placed kisses along his jaw. 

“Y/N, please…” He begged. 

“Please keep going? Please show your love for me by milking me dry?” He shook his head and you grinned, “My hearts been a toy for you all these years, perhaps now you'll understand what it is to be someone’s toy.”

You moved down Peter’s body, planting kisses and hickies before your mouth reached the member between his legs. Peter lifted his head, watching, “Okay, okay, I understand! Don’t please!” You felt his legs thrash as your tongue licked his pink tip. 

You held onto his muscular legs as your tongue swirled around his tip. Peter’s head flew back in ecstasy as you took him further into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue still swirling. 

His deep groans effectively soaked the area between your legs and you loved how they turned to whimpering and pleading. Peter lasted longer than you expected but it wasn't long before his body contorted and warm liquid sprayed down your throat and into your mouth. As you removed your mouth, you continued to pump his softening cock which caused him to thrash around even more from the over stimulation.

You swallowed what was left in his mouth and began to kiss up his body. His eyes gave a look of defeat, “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell you how much you liked it,” You said as you kissed his neck, “Baby steps, right?”

You laid down beside him, basking in his warmth. Now you weren’t just the awkward daughter of the famous Mr. Shum. You loved somebody and that somebody was going to love you. 

You deserved that love.

+

hope you enjoyed this!

[whenisitenoughtrees]

infinity, and beyond

He remembers the first time he kissed Janus. He remembers the way they were curled up against each other, the lights dimmed and the television on low volume, neither of them paying attention to the images on the screen. It was messy and terrible, as far as kisses go, and Patton loved every moment of it, and when they pulled away from each other, they were both breathless, smiling, and he knew then that what he felt, Janus felt too.

He remembers, too, the moment he heard about Virgil.

It's not every day that your husband's long-lost kid breaks into your house. It's not every day that you find out your husband of four years is an alien.

Patton's just trying to roll with the punches.

Content Warnings: threats of violence, mild body horror, brief, non-graphic panic attack

Word Count: 7,168

Pairings: Moceit, parental Anxceit

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

Patton’s day begins with a teenager holding a knife to his throat.

Technically, the day has already begun; it is mid-morning, the sun inching steadily toward noon. But Patton has barely been awake an hour, has been sitting at the kitchen table with his mug of coffee, staring at all the final exams he has yet to grade as he waits for his brain to start functioning. He likes Saturday mornings; he would go so far as to say that they’re usually his favorite part of the week, because usually, Saturday mornings mean sleeping in, wrapped in his husband’s arms, and later, a big brunch and a lazy day. But today, an emergency called Janus into the office, and he has a backlog of grading to finish this weekend, so here he is. Squinting, bleary-eyed, and with a sad lack of a husband to keep him company.

That is when the teenager appears.

Appears, because there is no better word for what happens. There is no break-in, no slamming of doors or shattering of windows. One minute, he is alone, and the next, there is another person in the kitchen, a young person who can’t be any older than seventeen or eighteen, and Patton barely has time to process that before they lunge for him, knocking him from his chair and to the floor, pinning him against the cool tile.

It takes a second to process the bite of cold, sharp metal against his throat, but as soon as he does, Patton wakes up very, very quickly.

“Please—” he tries, but the teenager hisses at him, actually hisses, and through the panic that is filling his mind and drowning out all logical thought, Patton realizes that something about this isn’t right. Something beyond the fact that there is a knife against his throat and oh god oh god oh god there is a knife against his throat—

The teenager opens their mouth, their face set in a harsh, threatening glare— and it’s their face, there’s something wrong about their face but he can’t quite— but the sounds that come out are gibberish, something guttural and rasping and nothing like any language that Patton has ever heard.

“Please,” he gasps, his voice thin and high and terrified, “please, I don’t know what you’re saying, I can’t—”

He breaks off, because he thinks that if he tries to say any more, it will come out as nonsensical crying, and somehow, he doesn’t particularly think that this person will be swayed by something like that.

The teenager’s lips twist into an impressive scowl, and with the hand not holding the knife, they reach for the pocket of their— hoodie? If it’s a hoodie, it doesn’t quite look like one. It’s something about the fabric, something about the way it moves as they do, but Patton can’t spend energy on figuring that out right now. He tenses as they root around in their pocket, clearly searching for something, and muttering to themself in that same garbled speech pattern. They come up holding something, and Patton can only catch a glimpse of it— what looks like a small, silver disk— before their hand is moving, clapping it against and then inside his ear and—

There is a moment of sharp, almost blinding pain, starting with his ear and shooting through his skull, and then nothing, and he struggles to regain his breath.

“I said,” the teenager growls, “where is he?”

Patton blinks. The sounds they are making are still the same, are still strange and incomprehensible, only, they’re not exactly, because they resolve into recognizable words inside his brain, and if he hadn’t been panicked before, this would definitely be enough to do the job, because what exactly did this person just shove inside his ear?

“What—” he starts, and then the words themselves catch up to him. “Where is who?”

The teenager growls— and it is truly a growl, like an animal would make— and presses the knife in closer. Patton valiantly resists the urge to whimper.

“Don’t fucking play with me,” they snap, and somewhere, back in some hysterical portion of Patton’s mind, he is tempted to chide them for their language. “His DNA signature is all over this fucking house, so where is he? What’ve you done with him?”

Patton can only stare.

Part of his mind has devoted itself to putting the pieces together, no matter the impossible picture they form. Part of his mind is taking in the pale skin that isn’t white at all, but rather a light purple, the way their facial features are just a bit too sharp, a bit too angular to be those of a typical young adult, the way that the spots under and around their eyes aren’t makeup, but instead move, twitching to and fro in unison with their gaze, and that alone is almost enough to send him spiraling, to draw him toward a conclusion that can’t possibly be true, that he can’t possibly comprehend.

The rest of his mind devotes itself to being astonished.

“Are you talking about Janus?” he asks, and he can’t keep the incredulity from his voice.

He doesn’t know which seems more unlikely to him, that this strange, violent, maybe-probably not human person has broken into his house and is threatening him with a sharp knife, or that this strange, violent, maybe-probably not human person is looking for his husband. His husband, who makes him breakfast in bed in the mornings and tea in the afternoons, when he has too many essays to look over and a headache pounding behind his eyes. His husband, who bristles and snarks at everyone around him, who works a corporate job he dislikes and comes home exhausted and irritated at the end of the day and still smiles, that soft, sweet smile that is meant only for him, that nobody else is privileged enough to see. His husband, who he has been married to for four years now, the best four years of his life, who he fell in love with in coffee shops and movie theaters and in the rain, that one day when they were caught out in the park without their umbrellas and had to run all the way home, soaking wet but giggling, grinning and knocking into each other.

His husband, who refuses to talk about his past beyond a sentence or two, here and there, brief anecdotes that never reveal much at all. But Patton has never needed to know his past to know him, and even now, when it seems that his secrets have burst into their shared life in the most violent way possible, disrupting all sense of equilibrium and turning the world on its head, he refuses to believe that there is any secret so great as to force a divide between them.

The teenager— if that is what they are, if the appearance of youth is an accurate indication at all— bares their teeth, teeth that are too sharp, too pointed, teeth that scream predator. “Who else?” they demand. “I won’t fucking ask again. Where is he?”

“He’s not— He’s not here,” he manages. “He’s at work, I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Please, let that satisfy them. Please, let them leave. Please, let Janus come home. Please, let Janus not come home, let him stay at the office, far away and safe. Please, let him come home and tell me what’s going on, why this is happening, who this is and how they know each other. Please, please, please.

He doesn’t know what he wants. Doesn’t know that he wants to know what he wants.

“Yeah, right,” they say, and he would be insulted by their skepticism if he had room for any emotion other than fear. “That’s likely. You could have him cut up in the basement for all I know.”

He gapes, stunned by the accusation. And for a moment, his indignation is enough to override all common sense, ignore all the impossibilities of the person holding him to the floor, ignore the knife pressing up against his skin. Because, well, first of all, he has no idea where that idea came from, but the very thought that he would do something like that at all, much less to—

“Cut—” he starts, and has to try again, because he can’t wrap his head around the notion, around the idea that that could potentially be something he would want to do, that that is the first thing this person thinks to accuse him of. “Cut up? Janus is my husband.”

Their eyes widen. “Your what?”

“My husband,” he repeats, the reaction emboldening him. “We’ve been married for four years.”

They blink at him, and it’s a motion that takes up their entire face rather than just their eyes, because those moving dots… those are eyes, too. Patton can’t deny it, can’t deny that this person, whatever they are, has eight eyes. Eight eyes, just like a spider, and his outrage fizzles out in the face of that realization, fades back into terror, into a racing pulse and breaths that come too short and quick, and he is confused now too, confused at what this person wants, because their words almost seem to suggest that they don’t want to see Janus harmed at all, that they think he is the threat. That they think he is a threat to Janus.

But Patton isn’t the one with the knife.

“Please,” he says. “Please, just, you can look around the house, there’s pictures of us. We’re together, we’re happy, and I don’t know what you want, but just please, please don’t hurt him.”

“Don’t hurt him?” they repeat, and somehow, whatever strange translation system is at work in his head manages to convey their disbelieving tone. “What the hell are you talking about?”

They seem surprised that Patton is making the insinuation at all, and Patton can’t help the incredulous noise that escapes him.

“You’re holding a knife to my throat!” he all but shrieks, the words ripping out of him at a much higher volume than he intends. “What am I supposed to think you want?”

They make a strangled sound, one that his mind doesn’t resolve into words.

“You—”

And then, they stop, tilting their head. A moment later, Patton hears it too, and dread forms a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. There is a clattering sound, a key turning in the lock, and the unmistakable creak as the front door opens. The teenager stands, suddenly, a fluid motion, but Patton is frozen in place, barely noticing the removal of the knife and the pressure holding him down, too busy trying to think of a way out of this, or to protect Janus, if worst comes to worst. He’s trembling so hard that he’s not sure how quickly he’ll be able to get up, but once he does, he’s in the kitchen. There are weapons here. All he has to do is grab one, no matter how ill it makes him feel to use his cooking instruments in such a way.

He won’t let this person hurt Janus. Not if he has any say.

“I’m home, love!” Janus’ voice drifts through the house, smooth and unconcerned. There is a familiar thump; that will be his briefcase hitting the floor, and then a rustle of clothing as he sheds his suit jacket. His footsteps draw nearer, and even as the person’s face shifts into an expression Patton has no hope of interpreting, he readies himself to leap to his feet, to fight if need be.

“I just love when idiots call me in for an issue that it would take someone with half a brain twenty minutes to solve,” Janus says, sounding terribly exasperated, and normally, this is when Patton would go to him and give him a hug, would lean his chin on his shoulder and hold him close, or at the very least call out to respond to him. But he stays still and quiet, and the footsteps pause.

“Patton?” He sounds uncertain now, but he’s coming closer again, and Patton finds himself staring fixedly at the entryway to the kitchen, raising his head from the floor to see. Oddly enough, the teenager stands stock still, making no motion to turn to where Janus will appear in mere seconds.

And then, there he is, and Patton cannot help the instantaneous flood of relief at seeing him, at seeing Janus, his husband, poised and confident and unharmed and here. He stands on the threshold, adjusting the gloves on his hands, and Patton watches as his face transitions from calm to confusion to something between anger and fear as he takes in the scene, the toppled chair and rumpled papers, the figure standing in the midst of it all, knife clutched in one hand. And then, he locks gazes with Patton himself, and his eyes blow wide with worry even as the rest of his face schools itself.

“And just who the fuck are you?” he demands of the person. To anyone else, he would sound completely collected, but Patton knows him too well to miss the tremor in his voice.

The person doesn’t move.

“I’d appreciate an answer,” Janus continues. “I’d also appreciate it if you’d step away from my husband.” Janus gives him a tight smile, one that is probably meant to be reassuring, and he returns it as best he can.

And then, slowly, the person pivots on their heel, putting their back to Patton. He can no longer see their facial expression, blank and unhelpful though it was, but he can see Janus’ perfectly well, and as such, he can see the way he holds onto his cool anger for all of five seconds, before it shifts into undiluted shock. His face pales, his lips parting slightly, and he actually takes one stumbling, hesitant step forward, and Patton’s heart begins beating triple time because he has no idea what could make him react like this.

And then, the person speaks.

“Janus,” they say, and the noises that spill from their mouth remain strange and unfamiliar, but somehow, Patton hears the wetness in the name, the fragility, the desperate hope. The knife goes clattering to the floor.

Janus makes a sound, wounded, astonished, and Patton has never heard anything like that come from his husband’s throat, and it scares him.

“Virgil?” he rasps, and evidently, that is all this person needs, because they launch themself forward, and Patton’s instincts scream at him to try to stop them, to leap at them or grab at their hoodie or do something. But Janus’ arms open wide to receive them, and then the two of them are hugging, holding each other tightly, and from here, Patton can see the way Janus’ hands fist in the odd material of the teenager’s clothing, the way he buries his face in their shoulder, and Patton has never been more lost.

Virgil. He recognizes the name, he thinks, and it only takes a moment to summon the memory from the depths of his mind, blurred with age and the faint buzz of alcohol and the heat of the summer night. But Virgil rings out in his mind as clear as a bell, somehow bringing more questions and few answers, because none of this makes any sense at all, because one night, two and a half years ago, Janus told him that he had a son, and that he loved him, and that he lost him, and that his name was Virgil, and then he refused to say any more, and Patton let it go in favor of holding him because the look of devastation on Janus’ face was like none he had ever seen before.

So, this cannot be Virgil. But surely, Janus would know the face of his own son, would never embrace a stranger, and would never embrace… whatever this person is, because Janus is sharp and Janus is observant, and he has most certainly picked up on all their unusual features, on all the ways that they cannot possibly be human. So that means that this must be Virgil after all, and Patton can only watch as they cling to each other, like they’re both afraid the other will disappear if they let go.

And Patton doesn’t know what this means.

-----------

He remembers the first time he kissed Janus. He remembers the way they were curled up against each other, the lights dimmed and the television on low volume, neither of them paying attention to the images on the screen. They stared at each other for a long time before he leaned in, before he dared to take the initiative, and he has never felt happier than in the moment when Janus met him halfway, pressing his lips firmly against his, their noses knocking into each other, their teeth almost clacking together as they sought more, more contact, more closeness. It was messy and terrible, as far as kisses go, and Patton loved every moment of it, and when they pulled away from each other, they were both breathless, smiling, and he knew then that what he felt, Janus felt too.

He remembers, too, the moment he heard about Virgil. He remembers, because he knows only fragments of Janus’ past, a past that he is certain is dark and full of sorrow, and that is why he has never pushed for more than what Janus is willing to give, content to gather up the bits and pieces he is offered and guard them close.

Most of the surrounding conversation is hazy, blurred by one too many glasses of fine wine and a summer heat wave that permeated every inch of the apartment they rented at the time, no matter the efforts of the air conditioner to banish it. But he remembers the way Janus quieted, all of a sudden, face still and contemplative and sad in a way that made his heart clench.

“Have I ever told you,” he said, “that I have a son?”

And he could only stare and shake his head; the answer, of course, was no, the revelation so unexpected that he had no idea how to react.

Janus smiled, small and bitter, like a gash in his face, bleeding him dry. “I do,” he said. “He’s beyond my reach, now. I won’t be able to see him again.”

He remembers he made a noise, tiny and shocked, and that he stretched a hand out, placed it on his, and Janus accepted the touch readily enough.

“His name is Virgil,” Janus continued. “I think he would like you. At least, I hope he would.” He tilted his head, eyes distant. “He’s prickly, slow to trust, abrasive in general. But he’s a good kid. Was a good kid. I suppose he’s not… well. It’s been five years, now.” He closed his eyes, bowing his head. “He would like you,” he repeated, sounding more than a little broken. “He would like you.”

And he didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know what to say at all, his words failing him. So he tugged him closer with both arms, leaning him against his chest and rocking him gently, holding him close, and Janus pressed into the contact and didn’t say anything else.

He drew the conclusion that Virgil was dead, died tragically young, somehow. Looking back, he’s not sure how he arrived there, when Janus used the present tense the entire time, quite clearly speaking as though Virgil was alive and well, just somewhere he couldn’t go.

He thinks he might understand that part a bit better now, at least, though most of it refuses to sink in. But the facts are these: Virgil, if this is Virgil, cannot possibly be human. No human looks like he does. And this fact, too, leaves Patton with far more questions than answers.

-----------

“You did what?”

Janus’ voice is loud, sharp, and it brings Patton back to the present in an instant. He doesn’t know how much time has passed while he ruminated, tried to fit all the puzzle pieces together while well aware that he only has about half of them, but Janus and Virgil have drawn back from each other, Janus’ face twisted in alarm.

“We did research before I came down here!” Virgil says. “I’ve seen what humans want to do to us! For all I knew, he’d locked you up in a room and dissected you.”

Ah. So Janus isn’t pleased that his son—his son, his son, this is Janus’ son, his husband’s son— threatened Patton with a knife. Patton would feel more gratified if he weren’t stuck on us, trying desperately to ignore the voice that whispers in the back of his mind, the one that says, well, doesn’t that make sense? Virgil’s not human, that much is obvious, so doesn’t that mean that Janus is—

“You—”

And for the first time since he recognized Virgil, named him aloud, Janus looks at Patton, and Patton looks back, unsure of exactly what emotion is showing on his face. Confusion, probably; lord knows he’s feeling enough of it right now. But for whatever reason, Janus’ expression crumples, and he gently places his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, moving him to the side.

“Virgil,” he says quietly, and for the first time, Patton realizes that he isn’t speaking English at all, but rather, that same unfamiliar language that Virgil has been utilizing, the one that morphs in his head into something that makes sense. “I… need a moment.”

“But we only just—” Virgil begins, turning so that he can see both of them at once. And then, he stops, something odd passing across his face, something that Patton can’t interpret at all. “So you really are… with him.”

“Yes.”

“But he doesn’t know,” Virgil states.

Janus closes his eyes. “No,” he says.

Virgil is silent for a long moment. “Alright,” he says. “I’ll just… go in this other room, I guess. Over here.” And with that, he backs out of the kitchen and into the living room, disappearing from Patton’s line of sight.

Patton glances back to Janus, who is just standing there, still as stone, staring at him, and he opens his mouth, fully intending to chide him for talking about him, or about something tangentially related to him, at least, like he’s not sitting right here. But no sound comes out of his mouth, and suddenly, he finds himself wheezing, gasping for breath as the events of the past few minutes crash over him, and oh god, how is he supposed to process this, reconcile himself to this, because he knew his husband had secrets and he still doesn’t think he understands fully but he does understand just enough to know that everything he thought he knew is not as it seems and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with this and—

“Breathe, Patton,” Janus says, and a gloved hand appears in his vision. He grasps it thankfully, squeezing it tight, and the contact serves to ground him, allows him to calm his panic, little by little, until his mind clears enough to realize that Janus is kneeling in front of him, expression twisted into some awful combination of worry and apprehension and a hesitance that Patton has not seen in a long, long time, not since the earliest days of their relationship, when Janus seemed so uncertain that his affections were welcomed or wanted at all, and Patton had to work so hard to convince him otherwise.

But before he can do something to comfort him, Janus draws into himself, pulling his hand back and looking at the ground. “I suppose you have questions,” he says, and Patton almost laughs at the understatement, restraining himself at the last second.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and he wants to reach out, wants to take Janus’ hand again, but Janus’ body language is so closed off that he’s not sure any touch at all would be welcome. “So, uh, that’s Virgil.”

Janus nods.

“Your son, Virgil.”

Janus nods again, his eyes flickering up for a moment and then back to the floor again.

“I’m sorry he acted the way he did,” he murmurs. “He was scared for me, so he jumped to the worst possible conclusion.”

“There was no harm done,” Patton replies, matching his soft tone. “I mean, that was really scary. I was scared. I think I still am. But I’m not hurt, and everything’s turned out okay.” Even as the words leave his mouth, he has no idea whether he’s telling the truth or not. Have things turned out okay? Have they really? He feels like they’re dancing around the most important subject, the elephant in the room, and what’s more than that, they both know they’re doing it, neither of them quite willing to broach the topic.

But they need to. So Patton does.

“He’s not…” He pauses, taking a breath, marshaling all the courage he has left in him. “He’s not human.”

The statement hangs in the air between them, like a comma in a sentence, waiting for the inevitable continuation.

Janus shakes his head, just slightly, the motion so small that Patton might have missed it had he not been looking. “No,” he says, “he’s not.” And he falls silent, unwilling to elaborate, still unwilling to so much as meet Patton’s eyes, and that leaves the impetus of the conversation on him, doesn’t it? It leaves him to voice the rest, to dare to seek confirmation of a fact that half an hour ago, would have been too unbelievable to consider. Still is, to be frank.

“He’s… an alien. He’s not from earth,” he says, putting off the inevitable for as long as possible. He stares at his husband, who he loves, who he cherishes, who he treasures, who he thought he knew. And he still does, surely, because he knows what Janus is like, knows who he is if not what he is, and that has to be enough. He’s determined to make it enough. “So… are you? An alien, I mean?”

The question is out there, now. There is no taking it back. And Janus looks up at him, finally, expression pained.

“Yes,” he says simply, and Patton has to take a moment to breathe, to wrest his spiraling thoughts back under control, because what exactly is he supposed to make of this? This feels too big for him, too vast and too shocking and too incomprehensible, and nothing, nothing has ever prepared him for this possibility.

“Okay,” he says, even though he feels like it’s really not. “Okay. That’s… okay. I need a second to, um. I just need a second.”

“Of course,” Janus says, inclining his head, and then he moves as if to stand, and no, that is absolutely not what Patton wants, so he grabs at his sleeve with one hand. Janus freezes, staring at the spot where his fingers connect with his shirt.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to leave,” he says, his voice coming out somewhere between cross and petulant. “I can have a second perfectly well with you here.”

“Oh,” Janus says, settling back on the floor. He looks more than a little bit lost, as if he can’t fathom why Patton would want him to stay, and that does hurt a bit, the implication that he thinks Patton might not want him anymore, because of this. Which, he supposes it’s a rational fear; it is, after all, a rather large secret to drop on someone four years into a marriage. But Patton just needs time to process, and once he has, he thinks he’ll be alright.

So, he closes his eyes, focusing on the texture of Janus’ sleeve against his fingers, soft and silky.

What does this change, really? A lot, obviously, but how much of that actually matters? Does Janus being an alien change the fact that he always eats the last of the ice cream, or that he insists on doing the dishes by hand, or that he cried when Bambi’s mom died even though he pretended not to so that he could comfort Patton? Does it change the fact that he’s a terrible blanket hog, or that he denies loving to cuddle but instantly latches onto Patton the moment they’re both in bed together, or that he always seems to know just what to do or say when Patton is tired and sad and all the world feels gray?

Does it change that he loves him?

No. No, it can’t possibly affect any of that at all. And he’s known that all along, really, the realization lurking just under the surface, waiting for him to have it on his own time. He feels relief flood him, because alright. His husband is an alien. It’s going to take a long time for him to be used to that. But he’ll be damned before he lets that come between them.

He opens his eyes.

“I love you,” he says, and he puts all of his sincerity, all of the reassurance he can muster into those three words. And he is prepared to say more, to go on at length about all the reasons why, but Janus winces, turns his head away.

“You can’t say that,” he says. “Patton, you don’t even know what I look like.”

He frowns. Janus’ tone edges on defeat, on something uncomfortably close to despair, and he doesn’t like that at all.

“I’m looking at you right now,” he tries, but Janus just shakes his head.

“I’m a shapeshifter,” he says, cold and biting and yet, still reluctant, as if the admission is being ripped from him. “I literally hide my true appearance from you on a daily basis. I’m not human, and I don’t look like one, not when I’m not trying to.” He turns back to him then, meets his eyes, and it’s almost like a challenge, as if he’s certain in his words, certain that Patton will turn his back on him over something like appearance. And it’s true, this new admission throws him for a bit of a loop, but he thinks if he can accept the fact that he is married to an actual alien, he can accept this, too.

Janus is a very attractive man. But Patton didn’t marry him for his looks. And no matter what sort of alien he is, no matter what he’s hiding, whether it’s tentacles or feathers or extra eyes or what-have-you, Patton will love him just the same. What concerns him most is that Janus doesn’t seem to know that, seems to think that this will be the deal-breaker, will be what sends Patton running. And he is expecting Patton to run; that is becoming increasingly clear with every passing minute.

He spent a lot of time, early on in their relationship, showing Janus that he cared about him, showing Janus that he was allowed to be cared for. He didn’t expect to have to do it again, didn’t expect to have to prove his affections once more, four years into a happy marriage, but he will do whatever it takes.

“Then show me,” he says softly, and pitches his words carefully, trying to make it seem like a request and not a demand, trying to make sure Janus knows that he doesn’t have to do anything at all, not if he doesn’t want to. “Show me what you look like.”

Janus laughs, short and sharp, like a razor’s edge. He passes a hand across his face, and Patton’s fingers finally slip from his sleeve. He removes his hat, and then, to Patton’s surprise, he begins to unbutton his shirt, shrugging it from his shoulders, and then follows that with his gloves. Patton watches as the garments hit the floor, suddenly anxious, though he tries not to show it. Whatever Janus is about to show him, it is crucial that he doesn’t allow himself to have a negative knee-jerk reaction, doesn’t allow himself to recoil before his head and heart catch up to his instincts.

Even if Janus turns into… a giant spider person, or something equally scary, he’ll still love him. He knows that, knows that there is nothing that Janus could do or be to make him stop, but what is most important right now is making sure that Janus knows that.

Janus doesn’t say anything else, just settles back firmly on his haunches, bracing his hands against his thighs, shutting his eyes. And his face slides into something blank, into something impassive, but for just a moment, Patton thinks he sees a flicker of apprehension, even of fear, and he wants nothing more to reach out, to insist that everything is going to be alright. But he knows that Janus won’t believe him right now, will shrug off any touch, so he restrains himself, and watches as Janus begins to change.

It’s slow, at first, subtle. His skin almost seems to ripple in place, and then it— flips, for lack of a better word. It reminds him of Mystique from the X-Men movies, or one of those sequined pillows or shirts that has another color on the other side, revealed when you rub the sequins the other way. His skin flips, and in its place is scales, smooth and gleaming, in dappled patterns all across the left side of his face and down his chest. And as Patton stares, utterly fascinated, they move and shift across his body, curling into different designs and reflecting different colors, green and brown and yellow. And where his skin is still bare, it seems to even out, any blemishes disappearing, and it takes on a slightly yellow tint.

And Patton is so occupied by this that he almost doesn’t see the extra arms, folding out of seemingly nowhere, two extra pairs, one resting limp at his side and the other curling around his abdomen protectively. Three pairs of arms, six hands, each one now tipped with sharp claws, and Patton gapes at them, allowing himself one moment of pure surprise before turning his attention back to Janus’ face.

It looks sharper, more angular, a bit thinner, just different enough to throw him off balance a bit. But looking at Janus, his eyes screwed shut and lips pressed into a thin line, as if awaiting judgment, he can only see his husband there, not the stranger he half feared would take his place.

And the scales, well. The scales are lovely. They shimmer and shine in the light, and Patton can’t quite tell what color they’re trying to be, nor if there is any meaning to their movements across Janus’ skin, but he is captivated by them, by their twisting, shifting beauty. They almost look as if they are dancing.

So, he does the only thing he can think to do, and reaches out to caress his face.

Janus starts, eyes flying open, jerking back, but Patton pursues him, tracing his thumb across his cheekbone. The scales there are smooth and cool to the touch, just slightly bumpy, and Patton runs his fingertips across them, learning their shape and feel. Then, Janus makes a whimpering sound, and he freezes, watching him for any additional reaction.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Should I not do that? Does it hurt?”

“No,” Janus says, almost a stutter, “no. It— feels good. It’s just, I’m not used to—” He breaks off, shuddering, and he presses his face into Patton’s hand. His eyes are open wide, flitting across Patton’s face, and he realizes that his eyes have changed, too. One is the familiar, warm brown that Patton is used to, but the other is golden-yellow and slit, like a cat, or like a snake, and it’s quite possibly one of the most gorgeous things that Patton has ever seen.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says. “You’ve been so scared, haven’t you?”

At any other time, he thinks that Janus would deny it. Janus has never been one to admit to his own vulnerabilities, has always preferred to cover everything up in a layer of sarcasm and insults and misdirection, and on the worst days, even he has trouble getting him to admit that something is wrong. But now, Janus just shakes against his hand, his whole body trembling, and says nothing at all.

“I’m so sorry you felt like you needed to hide this,” he tells him. “I think you’re beautiful.”

“I have six arms,” Janus says hoarsely, as if he thinks Patton can’t see them. “Patton, I— I have scales, I have six arms, I have—”

He cuts off with a strangled gasp as Patton grasps one of his hands, one of the new ones, one of the ones hanging at his sides, and brings it up to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

“They’re very nice arms,” he tells him. “And I think it’s ridiculous that I could have been having six-armed hugs this entire time. Don’t think I’m not going to have you make up for that, mister.”

Janus laughs wetly, and this time, it’s more genuine, and laced with surprise. There are tears in his eyes, Patton realizes, tears in his eyes and beginning to streak down his cheeks, and he reaches out to wipe them away on autopilot. Janus shivers every time he makes contact with a scale, but his eyes never leave his face.

“I love you,” Patton says. “I love you, all of you, no matter what you look like or what planet you’re from. I’d love you if you were a slimy tentacle alien like in the movies. I’d love you if you had an extra head, or, or a really long neck, or if you were secretly two feet tall and bright blue. And I told you on our wedding day that I would follow you to the ends of the earth, do you remember that? But I only said that because I didn’t know that going further was an option.”

He scoots a bit closer, removing his hand from Janus’ face so that he can grab two hands at once, not paying attention to which ones. Janus’ breath hitches.

“If you honestly think,” he says seriously, “that you could ever do anything to get rid of me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

And at that, Janus lets out a sob, loud and messy, and throws himself forward, colliding with Patton’s chest. It’s an awkward angle for a hug, but Patton is too preoccupied to care, is too busy bringing his arms up to hold him, rubbing circles into his back and tracing the scales he finds there. And he’s basking in the sensation, too, drinking in the fact that there are six arms hugging him right now, clutching at him tightly, holding onto the fabric of his shirt for dear life, and he has never felt so safe, never felt so warm. So he relaxes into his husband’s embrace, embraces him in turn, lets him weep and shudder against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Janus gasps out, “I’m so sorry I doubted you, I—”

“It’s okay,” Patton murmurs. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve--” He stops, his attention suddenly distracted. “Is that a tail? Do you have a tail?”

It certainly looks like one, snaking its way out of Janus’ pants, long and thin and scaled, and how he missed that, he has no idea. Janus pulls back a bit to look him in the face. His eyes are red-rimmed, his skin flushed orange rather than pink.

“Yes,” he says. “Is that… alright?”

Curious, Patton extends a hand. The tail wraps around his wrist snugly, tugging at his arm, and he giggles a bit.

“Oh goodness,” he says, in lieu of a real response, not bothering to stop the delighted grin that spreads across his face. Janus relaxes, untensing, and slumps forward again to rest his head on his chest, releasing a long, heavy sigh.

“I’m still sorry that I kept this from you,” he murmurs, and Patton glances down at him, carding his free hand through his hair.

“You don’t have to be,” he says.

“Maybe not, but I am,” Janus replies. He shifts in place, angling himself to be able to meet his eyes. And Patton once again finds himself fascinated by his heterochromia, at the contrast between the eye he knows well and the eye that is new. It’s almost a comforting sight, once that reminds him that no matter his appearance, Janus remains the man he knows and loves.

“Did you mean it?” Janus asks. “When you said that you would go further than the earth, if given the option?”

A thrill runs through him. “Are you giving me the option?”

Janus hums. “Virgil is hardly going to be content with leaving me here,” he says, and then twists around further to stare Patton full in the face. “But I won’t leave you,” he insists, voice growing vehement. “And I won’t ask you for more than you’re willing to give. If you want to stay here, then we’ll stay here. The choice is yours.”

And Patton leans forward and kisses him on the lips, soft and short and sweet. “I’ve told you,” he says. “Where you go, I’ll follow.”

And he means it. He means it more than anything else he’s said in his life. He means it with the weight of all the years they’ve spent together, all the love he has to offer. Where Janus goes, he will follow, to the ends of the earth and beyond it, and there is a whole universe out there, waiting to be explored. He will have to make arrangements, of course, will have to contact his school and figure out something to tell his parents, and perhaps he should be dreading that, but all he can feel is exhilaration. Because his husband is an alien, has surely seen so many things that are so much bigger than their little lives here on earth, and yet, he is willing to stay here, with Patton, for Patton, and all Patton would have to do is ask.

But just as Janus has chosen him, he has chosen Janus. And for Janus, he would go anywhere.

“Because you know,” he continues, “I think you’re pretty out of this world. In fact, I’d even say that you’re a real star.”

Janus snorts, messy and undignified, and Patton smiles, pleased by the reaction.

“So, how about you introduce me to your kiddo,” he says. “Without the knives, this time. And you can tell me what I should pack.”

And Janus smiles at him, sweet and joyful, one of those expressions that no one else gets to see. Despite everything, that smile is still the same.

“Okay,” he says, and stands, pulling Patton up with him. “Let’s do that.”

And Patton clasps one of his hands, and lets Janus lead him onward.

----------

End Note: There are plenty of things that I would like to explore in this ‘verse, including putting proper focus on the anxceit, having Virgil deal with suddenly having another dad, Patton continuing to adjust himself to the new circumstances, and whatever the other sides are up to. So, I’m tentatively going to label this as a series. Future installments will be under the tag ‘it’s a space opera (and oh how the arias soar)’

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii@severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 13: A Good Touch

Chapter Summary: Claire learns one of Jamie’s secrets.

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a/n: We take another foray into Claire’s brain!! The last Claire POV chapter was Chapter 7 (if you want a refresher on where she's at, maybe take a glance back there). I'll just remind you that it ended with "In that moment, she knew she loved him." :))

Chapter 13: A Good Touch 

***

Claire was lost in the heavenly feeling of water rushing over her skin— hot and soothing to her muscles, easing all the tension out of her. It wasn’t often that she felt truly warm these days. The few occasions included being wrapped in the soft (what was it called… blankit?) and sitting in front of the “space heater.” Or being wrapped in Jamie’s arms... 

As much as she loved all the human conveniences for warmth, nothing compared to the feeling of Jamie’s ever-present heat seeping into her as he clasped her securely to his body. Just the thought of his arms— unreasonably big but still soft, making them the perfect place on which to rest her head— twisted her belly and made her flush a bit. 

She tangled her fingers through her curls, letting the water flow down to her scalp. Her head fell forward in pleasure and a sigh escaped her lips.

But her luxuriating was interrupted by a woody bang from outside and Jamie’s voice calling, “are ye doin’ alright, lass?” 

She startled a little and then nodded before remembering that of course he couldn’t see that. 

“Better than alright. I’ll be out in a second,” she replied cheerily. 

Feeling a sudden haste (that may or may not have had anything to do with her human), she stepped out of the shower and grabbed the soft (also a blankit?-) thing... and used it to dry herself off. She wrapped it around her middle and then made to open the door. 

A bit of disappointment tugged at her when she saw that Jamie was nowhere in sight. Figuring he was taking care of whatever it was that he needed to, she padded down to her room to change. 

The collection of dresses they had gotten were delightful. She hadn’t had a chance to put them all on yet (especially after their hasty departure from Mrs. Fitz’ place), but just looking at them made her feel excited. Her favorite was by far the white one— it was most reminiscent of what the fair folk of the seelie court wore— but seeing the darker colors piqued her interest. She chose a dark blue one for now and quickly pulled it over her head. Her curls were still drying, but she didn’t think it’d be a problem. Peeking behind her to make sure her wings were covered (though it probably didn’t matter if Jamie was the only one seeing her), she decided it would do. 

As she wandered back into the hallway, meaning to go down and maybe find Adso, she suddenly caught sight of Jamie and her jaw dropped. 

He must have just finished with the shower because he was bare save the blankit wrapped around his hips and there were drops of water smattered over his chest and shoulders. There was no indication that he’d seen her, busy as he was doing… whatever it was that he was doing— but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. When she had told him he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, she hadn’t been exaggerating. Looking at his smooth, tanned skin— dotted with occasional freckles that gave Claire the sudden urge to run to him and kiss every last one— she felt a heat rise in her cheeks. If only she could run her hands along every inch, to feel how smooth and soft it was under her fingertips...

But then he turned a little, getting ready to head toward his room, and she caught sight of his back. 

All the air was punched out of her. 

The skin of his back was marred terribly, the flesh criss-crossed by silvery-white lines that stretched all across it, healed laboriously from being brutally torn some time ago. Some indents were deeper than others, making divots in the skin, but others were barely visible other than faint lines. The scars made a terrible spider’s web across what should have been a perfect canvas. 

“Jamie.” 

It was completely inadvertent as she suddenly found herself rushing toward him and a sigh of his name tumbling from her lips. 

He turned and saw her, his eyes widening, and then he hastily angled himself to make sure she couldn’t see his back. His cheeks flamed red— not with the sweet color of embarrassment, but rather the hue of shame that sent Claire’s insides twisting all the more.

“I didna ken ye were there,” he forced out. 

Claire couldn’t be bothered with words at the moment. She reached out for him, feeling her heart break at the expression on his face and the thought of his old wounds. First, she gently cupped his face, feeling the stubble rough against her palm. 

“Let me see?” she entreated in a whisper. 

He looked reluctant for a second, but then nodded against her hand. 

With as much gentleness as she could possibly convey, Claire took him by the shoulders and turned him. He went willingly, and then his entire back was on display for her. All the trauma. The evidence of raw pain now healed but forever etched into his skin. 

As if drawn by a magnet, her hand raised and just barely brushed over the marred skin. He tensed at first, which almost made her draw back. But in the next second, he was relaxing to her touch. Her fingertips brushed across shoulder blades and down the plane of his back, hardly any contact. She could feel— not just sense, but actually feel in her body— the echoes of his pain. 

“What happened?” she whispered. 

“Dinna fash, it was a long time ago—” he started, but she wouldn’t let him get away with dismissing this as if it didn’t matter. 

“Tell me,” she pleaded. 

She placed her whole hand over his back and pressed gently in reassurance that she was here. He wasn’t alone. 

“It was a car accident,” he began, a slight tremor in his voice, “ye ken, what we rode in the other day? Sometimes they crash. I dinna mean tae scare ye, lass—“  Claire almost laughed aloud at this. Even in re-living his trauma, he still was so concerned about her. “—but sometimes things happen. Infrequently, mind ye. They’re verra safe. But this time it wasna. Another car hit mine. I was jes’ a foolish lad of 19, and I wasna strapped in properly. I flew through the front window and went skidding on my back across the ground wi’ all the shards of glass and pavement tearing up my back.” 

Claire wasn’t sure what half of those words meant, but she could imagine well enough. She felt sick to her stomach with how well she did understand. It took great willpower to keep her hand steady where it lay on his back. 

“I lay in agony for weeks. It took me so long to recover that sometimes I thought I couldna bear to live.” 

Tears were beading at her eyes and she had to swallow the lump in her throat. The force of the pain she felt for his suffering hit her like a wave. As much as she didn’t want to add to Jamie’s discomfort, she found she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. 

“I wish I had been there,” she choked as she resumed gently tracing over his scars, “I wish desperately I could have healed you. Eased your suffering. I wish—” the tremor in her voice halted all words. 

Her vision was so blurred that all she saw was a flash of skin as Jamie turned toward her so he was facing her again. 

“Ye’ve the kindest heart, mo nighean donn,” he said quietly.  

She felt his hands gently cupping her face, and his thumbs swiped over her falling tears. She cursed herself for making him comfort her in a moment like this, but the onslaught of emotion radiating from him had overtaken her. But if she was being honest with herself, it was far more than her sensing his suffering and emotions. It went beyond empathy— the thought of him in agony hurt her directly because of the force of her love for him. 

Looking up at his face through the gathered tears in her eyes, she said, “I’m sorry you went through that, Jamie.” 

“It only made me who I am today,” he answered.

There was such strength in his voice. A man wise beyond his years. 

There was a strength in his heart as well— one that soothed the surge of emotions and brought calm to Claire’s reeling mind. 

“Are you ashamed of them?” she suddenly burst out, “You turned away from me when I saw...” 

“I dinna-” he swallowed, “I dinna show them to anyone. I have no use for pity. I hate it when people look at me differently when they find out. It’s jes’ no’ somethin’ I talk about anymore.” 

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” she breathed, understanding the gravity of his trust, “I could never pity you, and you should never feel ashamed. They’re a part of you, Jamie. And everything about you is perfect.” 

The air had never returned to her lungs during this whole conversation. Her insides were still knotted up with the strength of her emotion for him, making it hard to force words out. But she needed him to know. She loved every part of him. And she wanted his heart— complete with all the wounds and scars. 

“Ye have a good touch,” he commented softly as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “I’ve never let anyone touch the scars before, save the doctors and nurses or my family. But— I didna mind when you did...” 

The force of the last statement made it quite clear that he more than didn’t mind, he’d liked it, and Claire made a note to touch him as often as she could until he no longer thought of the scars as something ugly. 

“I like when you touch me too,” she suddenly found herself saying. She didn’t remember the words leaving her mouth, let alone deciding to say them, but she heard the echo of them in the air and saw quite clearly his reaction. 

Jamie’s whole body seemed to tense. He withdrew from her as if he suddenly couldn’t be near her, and her hand on him fell away to hang limply at her side. His downward glance as he avoided her eyes made her wonder if it had been wrong to say. The distance between them was like a blow, and the absence of his touch ached inside her. Perhaps she’d crossed a line with him? But for the life of her, she didn’t know what she’d done that was wrong. His energy had changed in an instant— one second they were sharing a connection, and the next, he was pulling away from her. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll— leave you to get dressed,” she stuttered out a bit helplessly. 

“Aye,” came his awkward response. 

When she gave him one last look before departing, she found his ears were red and he couldn’t seem to meet her eye. 

She went downstairs with a stone in the pit of her stomach, hoping desperately that she hadn’t inadvertently created a distance between them. 

***

The rest of the night passed with a soothing easiness. Jamie came down from his shower seeming quite his usual self again. She’d watched him make food while trying not to get entranced by the shapes of his muscles shifting underneath his shirt. They sat and talked for a while as he ate— him telling stories of his childhood and family. Jamie was quite the storyteller, and Claire found herself getting lost in his enthusiasm. His face lit up as he told her animatedly about his parents meeting, about his awkward years as a boy, and about an incident involving him, Ian, and an owl (at which she couldn’t stop laughing until her sides ached). Claire thought she would never tire of listening to him talk about his passions. She could tell he loved fiercely and felt things deeply, and that brought such a well of affection bubbling up in her chest that she had to get up and give him a hug. 

They sat on the odd, tall stumps, so she slipped off a little clumsily before bridging the distance between them, Jamie’s eyes wide as he watched her while he attempted to finish speaking. 

He chuckled as she looped her arms around his neck and squeezed— right at the end of his story. 

“What was that for, lass?” he asked, adorably breathless. 

His big hands came up to rest on her back, smoothing down it in response. 

She ran her fingers through his curls, enjoying their softness, and then answered without letting go, “you’re just so passionate, Jamie.” 

He had no response for her, but she didn’t mind. With one last squeeze to the nape of his neck, she let him go. But before she withdrew completely, she ran a tender hand along the length of his back. A silent reassurance of her acceptance of the scars— just as she promised herself she would at every opportunity. 

It was late. When she drew back from him, her gaze caught sight of the darkness outside, and she had to stifle a yawn. Seeing the distant stars (the familiar gleam making her bones ache with a sudden homesickness), she wandered closer to the clear square that let them view outside. 

“Tired, lass?” Jamie asked, craning his head to look at her from his spot. 

She nodded; there was no point in insisting otherwise (Jamie always could read her). As much as she would have loved to stay up to listen to more of his stories and look out at the stars, she was more than ready to sleep. 

“Will you lay down with me?” Claire asked, feeling suddenly shy. She didn’t turn around to look at him when she asked.  

There was absolutely no desire within her to spend any time away from him. She longed for the warmth and comfort of his arms— the long planes of his body against her. It was only with that safety and security that she found real rest. 

“Aye, give me jes’ a moment, lass.” 

Relief flooded her at his acceptance. 

Jamie rose, gathering his things, and she hovered behind him as he puttered around in the kitchen. The moment his hands were free and he started to turn toward her, she slipped her hand into his. He rewarded her with a soft smile that made her feel warm inside, and then took her up with him. 

Before long, she was under the blankits and waiting for Jamie to join her. She tossed and turned several times, her mind sorting through all the things that had happened that day. The argument, Jamie’s injury, learning about his past… there was so much to digest. In the unnatural quiet, her mind was racing with the assaults of too many things she didn’t wish to think about. It sometimes felt to her that life was moving so unbelievably fast. She wished it would slow down and give her a moment to breathe. 

That breath came when Jamie slid in beside her. Instead of laying down flat like he usually did (giving her the perfect opportunity to rest her head on his chest) Jamie fitted himself along the length of her back and pulled her close to him. The moment his body came in contact with hers, peace descended on her. A feeling took hold of her, a sensation that was indescribable and something she had never experienced before Jamie. 

“Is this alright?” Jamie asked with the sweetest sincerity that made her love him all the more. 

“Perfect,” she breathed, shifting back so she was fully encapsulated in his astonishing warmth. 

She drifted to sleep under the solid anchor of Jamie’s arms and the security of his presence.

***

a/n: So if you're wondering about the progress of this story... There are only 3 more chapters left in the first arc, ahh!! Things are about to ramp uppp, stick with me. But don't worry, I would very much like to continue with the arc II once we finish arc I. I prewrote all 16 chapters of the first arc, but the second arc only exists in my brain currently. I'm trying to get over some major writer's block + real life, but if you guys are interested, I hope to get working on arc II soon. 

Thanks so much for your support of the story, love to you all!!

Next

[queeen-goldfish]

5 Stages of A Heartbreak 1/5

A/N- I did something like this a couple of years ago but I got a little insecure about it and deleted my whole account... over one story. However I found some of the plot and decided to rewrite it. My lovely friend read it and gave me the confidence I need to repost it. I hope you enjoy it!

Category~ ANGST (my fav lol) 

WARNING (Triggers) - A tiny description of a Panic Attack 

Peter Parker Masterlist

   “Please. I- I don’t have anything, just please don’t hurt me.” you pleaded with the robber who was currently holding you at knife point. How did you get in this situation? Lord knows, but no matter where you were, trouble was always around the corner. 

The man pushed his head back with a laugh, allowing the smell of alcohol to escape his mouth  invading your senses. “Come one now darling don’t give me that crap” the robber spat as he began to get close to you. "You were just asking to be hurt. I mean what sane person goes through an alley all by themselves in the middle of the night , huh?” he asked you, sliding the knife down your cheek causing a chill to run down your spine. He opened his mouth once again only to be cut off by a familiar voice,

“Hey now why wasn’t I invited to the hang out”  

’Oh thank God, it's Peter’ you thought to yourself. To afraid to move you stared at the multicolored brick wall accompanied by the rusted fire escape that looked too old to do any real good in any real emergency, 

“Spider-man?” The robber questioned looking around trying to place a location on the young hero. Spider-man gasped dramatically, “You know who I am? Who would have known I had fans around this part of town?” He asked sarcastically as he swung from the roof onto the alley floor. Seeing Spider-man getting closer, the robber placed the knife against your neck as a warning. “Woah now let’s not get too excited” he added as he put his hands up for the robber to see

“Yeah, well we were just having a little chit chat, weren’t we darling?” the robber asked you, adding pressure to his hold on you making you whimper against the pressure.

“Tsk tsk tsk” Spider-man responded walking closer to the robber “Now thats no way to talk to the lady now is it '' he asked shooting a web onto the robbers hand pulling him away from you. 

Seeing that he was in a losing battle,the robber dropped his weapon holding his hands up, “Wa-wait we can work something-” but before the man was able to say anything else he was swept off his feet and on the ground groaning in pain. Within minutes the robber was tied up and left for the clean-up department, a.k.a the police officers.

“Spider-man?” you called out. Your voice was raspy and you couldn’t control the tears that started to flow down your face with such ease. His full attention was on you, walking over slowly, he placed one hand behind his back and the other reaching out for you to grab, “Milady?”  As you placed your hands upon his, he swept you off your feet and into the air. At first your eyes were closed due to the spontaneous change in altitude, but once your body calmed down you opened your eyes. Face to face with the dazzling stars that illuminated the night sky. Looking down at the city lights you could tell Peter was taking you but it didn’t stop the question from leaving your lips, “Are we going home?” you asked your voice no higher than a whisper. Peter answered your question with a gentle squeeze but not a word was spoken until you two landed on top of your building's roof.

“Peter- I mean-” you cleared your throat a bit nervous,“Spiderman. Uuh- Thanks” you said, feeling the blush creep up your neck. You were used to speaking to Peter, but never when he was in his suit, it almost felt too- unreal.

Peter snatched off his mask from his face, searching your body with his eyes for anything out of place. Only then did you notice the way his breath was almost shaky, like the reality of it all just hit him. Any other day you would have looked away too afraid to be caught staring, but the way he stood there watching over you like it was his only reason to live had you memorized. The only thing that took you out of his trance was the crack in his voice as he grabbed your shoulders,  “I thought, I thought I lost you. I heard your voice but I didn’t think it was you- or- I, I don’t know but I just knew I had to come and then I did and he had a knife against your throat and- oh God '' he cried taking in a sharp breath. Placing a hand on his cheek you rubbed the tears away with your thumb. He put his hand over yours, caressing it ever so gently staring into your eyes. You tried to think of something to say, something that may ease the shock he had on his face but before you could even form the words he pulled you into a kiss, only coming up for air to look into your eyes and kiss you all over again. 

After a moment Peter stopped and looked at you for what seemed like forever, “I know this is sudden but-” Peter pulled a candy ring-pop from dropping down on one knee. You chuckled looking between the boy you’ve loved for so long and the sugary treat he held in his hand. “This ring pop is- well a little smashed up-” you both laughed at the statement, you couldn’t figure out if it was the adrenaline or pure happiness but you felt like you could run a mile. “- But I was hoping that you would still at least let me do my romantically cringy speech” you nodded and he chuckled nervously, “ Okay here it goes, y/n?”

“Emhmm” you tried to contain your smile with your hands but you were sure it could be seen from miles away. 

“Y/n” 

“Uh-huh” you said, egging him to go on. Suddenly his facial features changed like there was something wrong. “Peter you're scaring me what's wron-”

“You’re gonna be late?” he said drooping the candy ring pop looking around

“Peter what? What are you talking about'' Peter grabbed your hand pulling you closer to the edge, “Peter you’re scaring me what's going on”

“You have to wake up”

“What-” He shoved you off the building and as soon as you hit the ground-

“Peter!” You popped up huffing as you looked around only to meet face to face with your mother.  

“No it’s not Peter, it’s your mother. It’s about time you woke up” your mother yelled as she picked up the dirty clothes that were on your floor and placed them into a hamper. 

“Mom, you scared me! I think you just ended my life…. in my dreams!”

“Yeah, well if picking up your dirty clothes at this age is going to be a normal activity of mine, I guess my life ended ages ago. So you can call us even.” she said without hesitation while  taking the hamper exiting the room, “You need to be out of the house in twenty minutes!”

“Yes ma’am” You said sighing as you swung you leg off the bed 

I mean of course it was just a dream. Perfect Peter would never do anything that heroically romantic...Not to you at least. You guys had been friends for over 10 years- no, not just friends, best friends.So close that he feels the need to tell you every single detail about his crush, Ms. Liz freakin Allen. As if your love for him wasn’t already impossible, he goes and crushes on the rich ‘cheerleader’ with brains. Not to mention he talks about her all the time, even at this very moment! I guess you don’t mind his little rambles, or at least you pretend you don’t. It gives you an excuse to admire his features a little more. Like his mesmerizing lips that moved so elegantly as he talked. Making the most boring of subjects an entertaining sport. The way he casually bit his lip as he smiled or when his tongue would tease you with a quick game of peek a boo as they swept across his bottom lip. Or the way he just said your name so sweet like the morning dew on a summers day.You loved the way your named rolled off his tongue with… wait-

“Y/n!” Peter called, you looked up at him confused, why on earth was he shouting your name like that? “Y/n are you even listening?” Peter Parker asked, making your stomach drop a bit. Of course you weren’t listening; he was ranting about Ms.Perfect, but you didn’t expect to be quizzed on the subject.  

Giving a chuckle you pulled on your sleeve out of habit, “um of course, I just.. Zoned out for a second.. Or two” you explained looking down at your half eaten pizza. The school pizza didn’t look all that appetizing, but anything was better than looking into Peter’s eyes. That boy could read you like a book with no cover. You heard him give a small chuckle, that made the ends of your lips curve up. His soft laugh gave you the ability to look up at him. At the moment he was combing his fingers through his hair as he bit the side of his lip, something he did quite often to stop from smiling but his smile was almost memorizing. The way his smile could melt you from the inside out was almost scary. 

He looked back at you shaking his head jokingly, “Well I guess I’ll just have to tell you again won’t I? I was telling you guys that I finally asked Liz out” he said simply. It took you a moment to process his words. You were waiting for the punchline, the “Ha you should have seen your face”. Yet the only thing you got was the gut punching feeling in your stomach that made you want to throw up your half eaten pizza, and the breakfast you thought would have been devoured by now. It’s not that bad, keep it together just nod just do something just don’t- “Y/n?” All eyes were on you. Peter. Ned. Mj...Peter. You could feel the lump in your throat building and your breath begin to shorten so you smiled and nodded, taking a deep breath, and then another but it was as if your lungs had stopped listening to orders. 

You heard Mj grab her bag and grab yours too, “I just forgot me and Y/n have a project we need to work on-” she said handing you your stuff and pushing you towards the cafeteria exit

“What right now?!” Peter asked, you were still walking, afraid a tear would slip if you turned back now.You could hear MJ talking to him in a rushed voice. Something about a deadline and in a hurry.When she finally caught up to you she led you to the nearest bathroom and locked the main door.You leaned onto the bathroom counter trying to focus your breathing as she looked under each stall until she was satisfied no one was in there.

“I can't- I can’t” your chest tightened and the lack of air made your face feel like a thousand needles were poking at it. Panic attacks weren’t very foreign to you but they didn’t happen very often, however when they did Mj was the first to help you. To be completely honest she was the only one you were comfortable helping you in this state.

“I know I know, sit down okay just sit and look at me, just like last time remember”  You nodded as she took a deep breath and you tried to mimic her.She continued to do this until you remembered how to breathe. In between she would ask you silly questions to get your mind off the obvious. 

Once you were calm you sat there looking at the wall, “I knew he would never love me but it still hurts” You explained your voice cracking as the tears built back up. You and Peter had known each other for ten years and you guys were immediately besties. You caught feelings after two year.. And after all this time you finally get your heartbroken by Perfect Parker. “I was never going to be good enough...was I?” You sobbed into Mj’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, let it out” Mj said, holding your sobbing body. One second you were fine, having a normal day with your friends, and in a blink of an eye your world came crumbling down. The only piece of dignity you had left, went out the window the moment you sat in the corner of this dirty bathroom crying your eyes out about a boy who would never think of you as more than just a friend. 

I heard a story about a girl who loved her best friend. She spent days watching him as if her feelings were nothing more than a friendship. Her heart tugged as she heard him talk about his new profound love. It made her stomach twist with the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about a girl she knew wasn’t her. The butterflies she once had, had grown into jealous moths ready to attack any sort of light left within her.Every insecurity she had was labeled as another reason her best friend didn't view her like he did other girls.I heard that she continued to smile as if nothing was wrong. She even laughed when the timing was right. I haven’t gotten to the end of the story yet..The girl does seem kind of stupid though huh…

Chapter 2

[achaoticeternal]

THIS IS ME TRYING

AVENGERS X READER (tony stark x daughter!reader, platonic peter parker x reader) masterlist // taglist

Request: @big-galaxy-chaos​ “Hey so I see that you also need requests as much as I do 😚 so here is mine! So it's Peter x stark!reader angst. Where Tony is afraid of becoming like his father but in reality, he is worst than him. He favors Peter more than her. Even though she is smarter than her own father, and won tons of awards and shit. Tony doesn't realize what he lost until the reader is gone. Btw the relationship between the reader and Peter is platonic! Also, everyone is oblivious to how she is feeling. Just pure angst”

Summary: Dads and daughters are supposed to have a beautiful relationship. But you could never be the song he always wanted. Word Count: 2.5K A/N: Based on the song this is me trying by Taylor Swift. Reader and Peter are both 18+; takes place after Thanos and Tony lives. Warnings: Heavy angst, cursing, self destructive behaviors, mentions death

“Mr. Stark, I’ve been working on the chemical formula of my webbing and I’m pretty sure that I’ve completely perfected it,” Peter talked while walking with your father to the lab.

“That’s great because I’ve been working on your web-shooters. Now, they can shoot up to 200 yards in length and the error rate of them getting jammed is less than one percent.”

Tony rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder as they left the room together. Neither of them acknowledges you on the couch, reading another novel involving quantum physics. But you’re used to the cold shoulder your father has given you since he first met Peter Parker. You’re used to the way he’s turned you away all your life, justifying his choice by saying he’s protecting you. 

You knew that he feared to become his father. Pepper explained that to you when you were a child and you couldn’t leave your room until Tony’s lady of the night let. Or as you and Pepper called it at the time “taking out the trash”. 

Maybe that was when you became more interested in the mathematics and science you found in the book and the workshop over good ole bonding time with dear old dad. If he wanted to neglect the time and opportunity to raise you, you would at least make sure to put his money and name to good use for your own personal benefit. And in the back of your mind, you knew that part of you was doing this to earn the attention and love you desired from your father.

Tony just saw it as taking an early interest in your future. So he didn’t stop you when you preferred to sit with tutors over playdates, draw out designs for engines and inventions instead of scribbling in coloring books, or even reading through scientific theories over watching Disney movies. He didn’t think it was strange, because that’s what he did at your age. Hell, by the time you were 10 you had won three first-place national science fair ribbons, third place in the national spelling bee, and began developing a prototype to turn the emissions from cars back into breathable oxygen. 

Everyone noticed your brain, and how much you had achieved now at 18 years old. You held 2 Bachelor’s in Mechanical Engineering and Organic Chemistry from MIT and a Master’s in Astrophysics from Georgia Tech. And you were now planning out when you wanted to go to Law school and earn your doctorate. But you were living at the compound now, taking a gap year.

When you went away for school, you learned from others how normal life was for everyone else. You met kids who were the first in their family to go to college or were looking for opportunities outside of the small towns they came from. When you came home from your second semester at MIT, you told Tony about all this and he created the September Foundation in order to fund the projects and inventions those kids were creating. It was another punch in the gut to you, because you realized that you would never be enough for Tony.

If you were enough, he would have passed the mantle of Iron Man onto someone else after he almost lost you and Pepper to the Mandarin. If you were enough, he wouldn’t have enlisted Peter to help him in his fight against Captain America. If you were enough, he wouldn’t have gone into space for a final fight. If you were enough, Morgan wouldn’t be in the other room watching cartoons. And if Tony acknowledged you, just even a little but, maybe you wouldn’t be trying so hard to impress him and the world.

“Ms. Stark, your package has arrived. Shall I send it over to the labs?” F.R.I.D.A.Y echoed into the room.

“No, send it over to my personal workshop. In fact, send all of TS-2008 to my personal workshop.”

“Of course, miss.”

“Oh, and F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Yes, miss?”

“Please stop referring to me as ‘Ms. Stark’, (Y/N) is fine.”

“Alright, CASS, reboot the system diagnostics and run test C-24,” you yawned as you asked your personal AI system. The personal AI system you built for yourself, bu yourself - no help from Tony at all. 

“Systems are checked out, shall I launch the test?”

“Go for it,” you groaned and took to Advil for your poundingheadachee. It was now two in the morning after another long night of coding, calibrating, testing, and perfecting the project you’ve been working on the past two years. 

When you were younger, you tried to replicate the Iron Man suit, but your father quickly discovered the helmet and nearly perfected arc reactor you’d created in his lab. He trashed all of it and told you never to attempt to create the suit again. He said you were better than that, that you had more potential than pretending to be a superhero. You realized as you grew older that he didn’t care if you were trying to become a hero or not; but that you were copying his work. His precious Iron Man that he took months to perfect only took a week for his child to solve.

Dear old dad couldn’t let you have things the easy way. So instead after SHIELD fell and Tony began working to finish wiping out HYDRA, you began working on your own original model suit. Now it was almost ready to showcase to the world. 

“Test C-24:successful. Shall I continue to run diagnostics to watch the processing and reaction time of TS-2008?”

“Yes, CASS. Run virtual simulations L-29, O-400, and T-38. Let me know when the trials have finished running and whether or not they were successful or not.”

“Yes, Ms. (Y/N),”

You pushed away from your desk and left your workshop. Before you knew it, you were in the kitchen pouring yourself another cup of coffee. You had been through 3 pots already tonight and no one noticed. Guess that was the nice thing about being Tony’s kid. Everyone else acknowledge your accomplishments and paid no mind to your destructive tendencies. In fact, maybe you’d celebrate tonight and snag a bottle of champagne from the extravagant wine fridge next to the dishwasher. You’d done it plenty of nights before when you wanted to drown out and numb the pain in your heart.

“(Y/N)? Why are you awake? And why are you holding a bottle of champagne?”

Ah, Peter... of course he would be spending the weekend at the compound. It’s not likely he has a perfectly good and happy home back in Queens with a guardian who loves him very much and would give the world to him. Guess that’s something May and your Father. 

“Hello, Perfect Parker”

“You know I’ve never understood why you call me that, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t make sense from your end of the looking glass.Why are you up?” You tried so hard not scowl or be too rude. Peter had tattled to TOny before about you having a ‘bad attitude’ towards him.

“I believe I asked you that first.”

“That you did, but if you want an answer out of me, you’ll have to answer first.”

“I couldn’t sleep. thought I would get myself a glass of water. You?”

“I’m getting wasted, just like all my potential,” You faked a smile and started peeling the gold wrapping off of the cork of the bottle.

“Don’t say that, everyone knows how talented and brilliant you are,” He sighed while grabbing himself a glass and walking over to the fridge, “You’re a Stark”

“Tell that to Dad, because you’ll always be more of a Stark than I’ll ever be,” You huffed as you pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer near you.

“That doesn’t make any sense, (Y/N), are you sure you haven’t been drinking already? Because you sound delirious. Maybe you should spend some time outside of your bedroom, maybe even get out of the compound. When was the last time you left to go somewhere?”

“Thanks for the concern Parker, but I’ve been able to hold my own for at least fifteen years now. And I know I don’t leave here a lot because I don’t have the opportunity too. If there’s a private event, either Pepper attends with Tony or Spider-man makes an appearance with Iron Man. I’m just surprised that there aren’t rumors across the media wondering ‘Is Spider-Man the lost of the Iron Man, Tony Stark?” You waved your hand in the air to match the dramatic tone.

“Haha, you’re so funny,” He took a sip out of your water, “People know you exist”

“Yeah, maybe if they do a quick Google shirt. But I’m not offended, I know that I just live in your shadow. But I’m used to it,” Your poured the alcohol into a glass and began to sip from it, relief flooding through you.

“Okay , I get it. You’re just in another one of your dramatic moods, maybe you should just go to bed before you say or do something stupid,” he took a step towards you.

“Don’t I always?”

“Always what?”

“Say or do something stupid?”

He halted and shook his head, “That’s not what I meant, (Y/N), I-”

“No, that’s exactly what you meant, Parker,” You brushed past him and stormed into the living room, “You don’t understand how lucky you are.”

He came stomping after you, “Oh, so you’re feeling brave, huh? Well you just sound like an idiot. I’m not just some lucky kid! I’ve lost my parents, my Uncle was killed in front of my face, and I disappeared from existence! The only people who care for me are Aunt May and Tony.”

You turned to face him, face completely red, tears threatening to spill, “Well at least you have Tony, because I don’t! I’ve just run around all my life trying to be perfect, be easy for him to deal with, live up to his and everybody's expectations! But I’m not good enough, I’ve never been good enough, and I’ll never be good enough. I’m just Tony Stark’s bastard child who built herself from the ground up without the slightest bit of help from her father!”

“(Y/N)...”

“No, don’t you ‘(Y/N)’ me. You’ve gotten everything you wanted from my father since day one. I never had that. You didn’t have to work to really make your own suite, you didn’t have to endure a lifetime of pain because of his arrogant ass, YOU didn’t have to wonder where Tony was on your graduation day for MIT - his alma mater - because he attended your fucking high school graduation instead!”

“What the hell is going on?” Tony yelled from the opposite end of the room. Pepper stood behind him and you could hear other door creaking open to here the events down the hall, “Not only are you two fighting in the living room and woke up half the compound, but you woke up Morgan and now she’s crying in her room because you two are screaming at each other.”

“Well boo-fucking-hoo, poor Morgan woke up in the middle of the night,” you mumbled to yourself.

“I just came to get a glass of water,” Peter attempted to defend himself.

And from Tony and Pepper’s angle, he did look to be more innocent. He had a glass of water in his hand and was completely cool. While you stood opposite of him; a bottle of booze in one had, dark circles under your eyes, a tear stained face, and looking to be in a mad frenzy.

“(Y/N), explain yourself,” Tony spoke sternly.

You took a deep breath in and wiped away fresh tears with your sleeve, “No, I don’t have to.”

“Excuse me,” your father marched across the room, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight but-”

“What’s gotten into me? Do you even listen to the bullshit that comes out of your mouth? No, of course you do, because you like listening to yourself talk more than you’ll listen to me. So talking to you is as fucking useless as talking to a deaf man!”

Peter and Tony now stood stunned at you and your sudden tantrum, but you knew it had been coming, you had always known. You knew one day you were going to explode, and it just happened to be tonight.

“I get it, I’m not precious Peter, or your beautiful Morgan. I’m just your bastard child from some broad you met on Malibu Beach. Even though I’m just a kid, I’ve always been your competition, a threat to you and your name. And even after every nearly life-ending event, I thought things would change - that you’d finally love me. But that never happened not even after Extremis infected not just Pepper’s body, but my own! And now I’m dying, I’m fucking dying, dad. I’m running out of time and trying to do everything I can. I go to school and get these diplomas and certificates to impress you. I invent and build thing to get your attention. I do it all because I still desire your validation and I’m running out of time,” you fall to your knees, everything becoming to much, “this is me trying, just like I have been all my life- but it’s still not enough.”

The room went silent. Only sobs echoed around the room as champagne poured out the bottle, staining the carpet. Neither Tony or Peter knew what to say or what to do. How could they begin to comfort the crying girl on the floor, or fix everything that ha occured over a lifetime.

Tony finally knelt down, “(Y/N), you know I never meant for any of this to happen, for you to ever feel like this. I’ve always been so scared of becoming your grandfather... I thought I was doing right by never pushing you, I guess it just never clicked.”

“Oh yeah, is that why you pushed me away and found Peter? And then when you realized you had messed up and forgot about your first daughter, you had another one in order to make things up?” You raised to head and shoulder up first, then finally rose back onto your two feet, “well congratulations, you’re worse than Howard Stark. And I hope you’re proud, Dad.”

With that, you left the living room. You couldn’t deal with in anymore that night, maybe ever again. Because when Tony came to check on you the next morning, you were missing. Only a note by your bedside remained as the only proof you had even lived in the room.

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

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