#when there are still so many peter parker books left for me to read first. im so sorry feminists.

[sciderman]

Random question- what do you think of mayday?

unfortunately i don't think a lot of mayday (haven't read spider-girl)

i should probably get onto it, but... oh... so much to read, so little time. the thing with spider-man is that there is so much to read, and i know i'm never going to cover it all. so i kind of become a very picky eater – i don't pick up many books where peter parker isn't the absolute centre of attention, and i think twice before letting myself look at that goatee for too long.

yeah. i don't have time for that.

[wlwprker]

your little things- tom!peter parker x reader

a/n: I have a lot of old stuff that was posted on my old Tumblr, and this was one of them :)

warnings: brief mentions of anxiety, not proofread a lot so I apologize for grammar or spelling mistakes! italics indicate a flashback.

w/c: 1,847

-Peter Parker-

Peter was aware that you didn't think he noticed or paid attention to the little things that you do but he does, he always pays attention to you.

He notices the way that you love to sit by the window reading a book when it rains because the sound of the rain hitting the window makes you feel calm. He admires how you can get so caught up in your books and how your face lights up with different emotions depending on what was happening in the books you always got lost in.

Your little things that make you so wonderful, he notices them all and he loves them all because they're what makes you so beautiful and he loves everything about you.

Peter loves to look at you and he adores all of your little things, especially the ones that you're insecure about but he doesn't know why because everything you do is beautiful to him.

He picks up on things that you didn't even know he knew about or took note of. He knows when you're anxious because of the way you always bounce your legs repeatedly and how you nervously play with the rings on your fingers. He notices it all. Peter notices that when you're incredibly anxious, you draw patterns on yourself to attempt to calm yourself down, but it doesn't always work, which makes you more anxious.

When he senses that you're having one of your really rougher days, he is there to help you because Peter loves and supports you... Always.

Today you were having a hard day, nothing seemed to be making you feel better. Peter knew instantly because when he took peaks at you every so often, he saw the way that you couldn't stop bouncing your legs and the fact that your hair had been messed up from the number of times that you pulled at it in frustration. He takes note of a simple fact: you cannot sit still. Peter worries for your poor lips that you've bitten down on many times throughout the night.

Peter wasn't even doing anything productive if he's being honest, he was just writing out a study guide for a test that wasn't for another 3 weeks. He put his pencil down and walked over to you and sat down on his bed next to you, you were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't even know he left his desk. He softly touched your thigh to remind you of his presence because he knew that you were a million miles away.

"Oh! I'm sorry Peter, did I interrupt your work?" Peter's heart stung with pain as he heard the hurt in your voice because you were genuinely worried that you distracted Peter from his work. You turned your head slowly to look at him and his heart swelled because every time that you look at him, it's as if he's looking at you for the first time. Peter took your shaky hands in his and intertwined your fingers with his and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"I don't care about my work; I care about you. What's got you so anxious today, sweetie?" Peter asked while he rubbed comforting circles on the back of your hand, your hands had stopped shaking. He watched as you sighed deeply and laid your head down in his lap.

"There's just so much happening and it's happening so fast, it's nothing particular, it's just well...everything. I don't know but it's breaking me down, Pete." He visibly frowns when he could hear the genuine suffering in your voice, and he knows how much it sucks to be anxious. He took the hair-tie that was practically falling out anyways and let your hair fall down onto his lap.

"Baby, I'm so sorry that you're dealing with this, but you don't have to deal with this alone." Peter played with your hair, and he could physically feel that your rapid heartbeat was returning back to its normal pace, he knows how the simplest gestures can ease your anxiety. Peter used his free hand to draw patterns on your arms because he knows how you try to do that when you want to relax.

Peter easily sensed that you are starting to finally relax, and he can feel the way your entire body is visibly softening just by the touches from your favorite person, Peter Parker.

Peter always knows how to make you feel safe, he's made mental notes of things he does that makes you feel safe, loved and at peace.

You love random displays of affection, which is completely fine with Peter because he loves to be affectionate with you. You love when he is affectionate with you because it reminds you of how lucky you are to have such a lovely person in your life.

You'd never admit it to him but he knows how much you love the pet names and compliments he gives you so he will compliment you any and every chance that he can.

Peter knows how you're not very open to talking about your feelings, but he always feels a sense of pride and love when he realizes that despite you not being open to share your feelings, he's made you feel safe and comfortable enough to share those parts of yourself with him.

Peter always loved to give you small kisses here and there just to let you know he appreciates you, but he had no idea how much those meant to you. He smiles to himself as he remembers the day that you told him how much you like his small kisses and ever since that day, he gives you random kisses throughout the day...every.single.day.

Peter was coming home from his nightly patrolling duties and he climbed through the window that led into your room, you always left the window open for him, he'd always have a place here. Peter watched in adoration as he caught the sight of you lying in your bed, with glasses perched on top of your head and a book lying face down on your stomach as you slept peacefully. He quietly removed your glasses from the top of your head and marked your place in your book (he knew how mad you'd be if he didn't) and placed them both carefully on the bedside table. He removed his suit, took a shower and changed into the spare clothes he left at your place and calmly climbed into the bed next to you.

You were a very light sleeper so no matter how hard he tried to be quiet, you were very aware of his presence. "Peter? Is that you?" He almost laughed at the sound of your sleepy voice. He moved a piece of hair away from your face and smiled to himself at the sight of your half-closed eyes and eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

God, you are absolutely gorgeous.

"Shh, love, it's okay. Go back to sleep." Peter whispered as he watched you drift back to sleep and he pulled you closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his body and he held you close. Peter kissed your forehead and whispered goodnight into your ear and you're a light sleeper so you stirred in your sleep.

"Mmm. I like when you do that, Pete". You mumbled in your sleep-like haze.

If it was anybody else, they would not even knew that you said anything but Peter being who he was and hanging onto every word you said, he heard you. Peter knew you were very sleepy and had very little energy to fight him back which was the perfect chance for Peter to use this to his advantage.

"Do what, pretty girl?" Peter watched as you hid your face in his chest and he laughed, he knew what he was doing, it was funny though because you are just too cute to not mess with. "Don't hide from me!" You begrudgingly lifted your face from his chest and snuggled closer to him.

"I like when you give me random kisses like that, it makes me feel loved and really happy." You sighed happily and began drifting off into the world of dreams.

"Oh how I love you, Y/n." Peter confessed for the first time. The corners of your lips twitched upwards as you started to feel sleep overtake you for the millionth time that night.

"I love you too, Peter." Peter placed a gentle kiss to your hairline, and he fell asleep.

You love kissing Peter; you really do but Peter discovered that you also love other kinds of things that he does to show you how much he adores you. To other people, it may seem small but to you, it was everything which meant that Peter continued to do them. You love when Peter locks his pinky finger with yours and places a soft kiss to your pinky, it's such a mundane gesture but it reminds you of how safe you feel with Peter, and he does it with so much love and devotion that you can't help but fall even harder for the brown eyed boy.

Peter can go on and on about all the things he loves about you. Whenever someone asks him if he has a favorite little thing that you do, his answer is always the same.

His favorite little thing that you do is loving him.

Peter never really had a way with words, when he really cared for someone, he would get starstruck and the words would escape him. He always felt bad about it because he has so much love to give and he wants to share it, but the words never left his lips, he would stutter because his emotions clouded his senses, and the words would dissolve into thin air. You changed that for him. When people would ask him what being loved by you is like, the words poured out of him easily as if it was as easy as breathing, he didn't have to think too hard.

Your love is so warm and comforting and being loved by you is like falling asleep next to a fireplace, on a freezing winter day while drinking a cup of hot chocolate. The feeling of your love is so special, he could talk forever about it but he knows that there aren't enough words in the entire universe to fully express how much you mean to him.

You would so call him super cheesy and a romantic, but he means it. He only became all mushy and lovey dovey because of you.

It's the feeling of his knees going weak as he locks eyes with you from across the room. It's the feeling of safety when he holds you close to him in bed at night.

That is what it's like to be loved by you.

The little things you do remind him of what being loved feels like and maybe one day, there will be a ring on your finger, a forever one.

[lucywritesagain]

Halloween

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈﹕Loki masterlist ꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱ Navigation ﹕┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

Please note that this story is a repost from my old blog @lucywrites02.

Summary: Loki agreed to go trick or treating with Peter and finally starts to believe he deserves to be called a hero

Word count: 2.2k

Loki was quietly reading when Peter stormed into the room and aggressively sat down on the couch. The trickster greeted him but the kid didn’t answer. God of mischief looked up from the pages of his book and observed Peter. The boy left a disappointed sign and leaned further into the decorative pillows. Seeing his favourite avenger upset, Loki decided to talk to the teenager. He closed his book and put it on the small coffee table.

“Is everything alright, Peter?” Loki asked, concerned. Spider-man mentioned to him before that some kids from his school were being mean to him and Loki was sure it was the case.

“Yes,” Peter answered. Loki knew the boy was lying but didn’t want to pressure him into talking. Fortunately Parker decided to share his thoughts with him. “It’s silly actually. It’s halloween tomorrow and I was supposed to go trick or tricking with my friend, Ned, but he’s visiting his aunt two states over and aunt May said I can’t go trick or treating alone but I really wanted to and-”

“Hey! Slow down kid.” Loki interrupted Peter’s mumbling “I am sure we will figure something out. Ok?” Loki patted the boy's shoulder which made Peter smile “If you need someone to go with you I could accompany you.”

“Thank you mister Loki, sir!!!” Peter shouted enthusiastically

“Now tell me more about this trick or treating thing”

“Well, it’s this Halloween tradition where kids are walking around the town in costumes collecting candy.” Peter explained

“Candy, you’re saying?” Loki’s eyes lit up at the mention of sweets. It wasn’t a secret that Loki adored sugary treats. He became really fond of chocolade, something they didn’t have on Asgard. “I’m, as you midgardians say it, in!”

“That’s so cool!!! Thank you!!!” Peter said happily and hugged Loki. The trickster wasn’t surprised by Peter’s clingingness and to be honest, he really liked to be hugged. Only Peter had that privilege though. Everyone else, Thor included, would immediately be stabbed. “You need a costume. It’s halloween after all!”

“What would an appropriate costume for such an occasion be?” God asked

“We wear whatever we like” Peter stated “Kids mostly dress up as either monsters or heroes! Last year me and my friends dressed up as the characters from our favourite book. There are many possibilities.”

“Do you know what you are going to wear tomorrow?” Loki asked

“Yes! I already have had my costume ready for months.”

“I still need one so I should probably prepare myself. It is my very first trick or treating after all” Loki took his book and marched to his room. He didn’t see it but Peter was beyond happy. He even made a little happy dance, that’s how happy he was. The boy wondered what Loki would think of his costume. Parker had been working on it for some time. As Loki closed the door to his room he pulled his phone that Stark had given to him and started listing things he needed for this whole trick or treating.

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“Peter told me you are going trick or treating with him?” Tony’s question pulled Loki’s attention from his food. God nodded but the iron man couldn’t drop the subject that easily. “Aren’t you too old for that?” Stark asked jokingly

“You’re saying I’m too old for trick or treating, well maybe you’re too old to appreciate candy but don’t put me in a box, Karen.“ God sassed. Loki has been spending too much time with Peter, that’s for sure. “Besides, he asked me.” he added quietly

“Aww, look at you getting all soft!” Tony mocked him. His smirk faded as he noticed Loki conjuring a knife and pointing it at him, ready to throw it any second now. “I think Pepper is calling me.” Stark said and quickly left the room.

Loki rolled his eyes and got up. He should get ready for the night. Peter said that people dressed up as heroes and so Loki decided to become one for the night. He will be his favourite, the most selfless person he knew. He hoped Peter wouldn’t mind his choice...

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Peter was pacing around his room waiting for Loki to show up and pick him up. The young avenger already had his outfit on. He really liked his costume. He has been working on it very hard and was proud of the outcome. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. His sleeves were too long but Peter didn’t mind that. He wore leather pants and a long green cape he made all by himself. May helped him make the chest pieces and the gauntlets out of foam. The panels on his waist were made out of cardboard and painted gold. Peter created the shoulder pads out of a rubber door mat he bought in a dollar store. He also had two rubber daggers in his pockets. May didn’t allow him to have anything dangerous so he had to buy those innstead. But the piece he was the most proud of was the helmet! He begged Tony to let him use the 3D printer in his lab and after hours of pleading, the Iron man finally let him do it. It took three weeks for the horns to be finished but it was totally worth waiting.

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Hearing a knock on her door, May went to check who the guest could be. “Loki, hello!” May opened the door and greeted the trickster “You are a bit early! Please come in” she left an amused laugh when she saw what the god was wearing.

“It’s good to see you, May!” Loki said and walked into her apartment “Peter is still in his room.” the woman announced “Thank you for taking him with you. I would go but I’m working the night shift today. By the way I love your costume.” she added. Loki looked down at his attire and smiled. “You are going to love Peter’s costume. He made it himself. PETER, LOKI IS HERE!” May shouted. “I need to get going now. Take care of him and bring him home before midnight!” she said to Loki and left the house.

Peter took two bags that were laying on his desk and walked into the living room. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed his friend in a spider-man costume. He didn’t have a mask on tho. Loki was looking at some photos that were hanging on the wall when he heard Peter walk into the room. He turned to greet the kid but he went silent when he saw what Peter was wearing. The two of them studied each other’s appearance. Loki was shocked, Peter on the other hand was really amused by the situation.

“You dressed up as me and I dressed up as you!” The boy stated happily “How cool is that, mister Loki?!?!”

“Yeah, It’s indeed, ehm, cool.” Loki responded. He took one of the bags from Peter’s hand and turned to the door. “Your aunt said you should be home before midnight so let’s go!”

The god of mischief was really taken aback by Peter’s costume. It looked very amature but the kid said he made it himself so Loki didn’t dare to make any comments about it. He was curious why the boy had chosen to dress up as him when he could have been anyone. Thor, Iron man, Captain freaking America. So why him? Loki knew Peter didn’t do that to mock him. This child was too precious to do something like that.

“Where did you get that spider-man costume from?” Peter’s voice pulled the trickster out of his thoughts.

“I “magicked” it as you’d say.” he responded. They were slowly walking down the street. Loki noticed many children in costumes who were walking alongside their parents. “Why do you look like me? Why would you want to look like me?” the god asked.

“I told you that, most of the time, kids dress up as their heroes and you are my favourite one.” Peter said softly. Loki’s heart melted at that statement. He has never been anyone’s favourite. Thor was always the better one. The more handsome and lovable one. And now this young midgardian tells him, with no hesitation, that Loki, the god of mischief and lies, the trickster no one has ever trusted is his favourite hero?

“I am no hero, kid.” Loki said quietly. He didn't really trust his voice at that moment. That child made him so damn emotional!

“Of course you are!” Peter argued “You are an avenger! You help people, you save lives! That’s, in my opinion, exactly what heroes do!” Loki didn’t respond to that. Peter was too kind for his own good to believe in something so stupid. Loki? A hero? Not so long ago he almost destroyed this city, which wasn’t entirely his fault, and now he was supposed to be a hero? All he ever was was a liar, a villain, a monster of Jotun blood. Not the best hero material if you’d ask him.

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The two of them have been walking around Queens for two hours and one of their bags was already full. To be honest, Halloween will probably be trickster’s favourite midgardian holiday. The god noticed the colourful decorations on some houses. On every doorstep he could see pumpkins with funny faces carved on them. He will ask Peter about them later. Loki was observing the people around them all the time. Many kids were dressed as the avengers, there were some ghosts, vampires and zombies, too. Peter was happily pointing at every child that wore a spider-man costume. Loki was really happy for Peter. Some people put too much pressure on that kid and it wasn’t often to see him so careless and free. They stopped at another house and Loki knocked on the door. A girl, ten, maybe eleven years old, opened it and gasped.

“You’re Loki!” the girl said enthusiastically. She was ogling the god in awe. Loki waved at her and smiled awkwardly. He now noticed a little helmet on her head and an emerald green cape behind her back “And you are dressed as Loki!” she pointed at Peter. Before he could say anything the little girl stepped out of her house and hugged the trickster. Loki’s eyes widened in shock and his body stiffened from the sudden contact. He dropped his bag and carefully patted the kid’s back.

“I love your costume.” Peter said, breaking the silence “I’m Peter by the way!” The girl let go of Loki and adjusted her helmet to stop it from falling.

“I’m Claire!” she responded “My mum made it! You guys are probably here for candy but unfortunately we don’t have any sweets left.” “That’s no biggie! We have a full bag of them.” Peter said Claire nervously fiddled with her hands and turned to the god again.

“Would it be ok if I took a picture with you?” she asked, shyly looking at Loki

“Ehm, I, yes of course.” Loki wasn’t used to being asked for photos but he appreciated the sentiment. At those words Clair’s eyes lit up with excitement. The girl quickly ran to get her phone and came back at a speed of light.

“Can you be on the picture, too” she asked Peter

“Hell yes!” the boy responded and took the phone Loki kneeled down and Claire hugged him again.The trickster smiled and patted her head. Peter went to his other side and adjusted the phone camera. Loki put his free hand around him and pulled the spider-man closer.

“Ok, everyone’s ready?” Peter asked. Loki and Claire nodded and looked into the camera with big smiles on their faces. The spider-man took some photos and gave the phone back to the girl.

“Thank you!” she said happily.

“It was nice to meet you, lady Claire,” Loki said and Claire giggled when he called her “lady”. He signed and looked at his watch. “Unfortunately, we have to go now” The god noticed her sadness and quickly added “One more hug before we go?” she nodded enthusiastically and Loki kneeled down again. She threw herself into his arms and the trickster embraced her.

“You are my favourite avenger.” she whispered and Loki’s eyes swelled with happy tears.

“See mister Loki?” Peter grinned “I told you you are a hero!!!”

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Peter and Loki were walking around for another two hours and headed back home when the second bag was filled with candy to the brim. After they put all the candy in Peter’s room, the boy proposed a movie night. Loki being a big fan of cinematography couldn’t say no to that offer. Also, no one could resist Peter’s puppy eyes. They spent the rest of the night eating sweets and watching horror movies on the couch. Loki was still thinking about what Peter and that little girl said. Maybe they were right? After all his hard work and trying to prove himself, maybe he deserved to be called a hero? He wasn’t the same person who attacked New York, he wasn’t the same man who envied the throne. He was happy with who he was now. He cannot change his past but he can create his own future.

[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 31

Summary: In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he’s swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he’s running out of time before he’s out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a “lack of personal fulfillment and settling down,” he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man’s profile he’d briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It’s not ideal, but if after a year it’s not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It’s a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It’s either going to be forever or it’s going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is an Adult, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker, Passive Aggressive Canned Soup, Two Morons Trying to Try Their Best, Borrowing Characters

Author's Note: I cannot overstate how self-indulgent the writing of this chapter has been. I absolutely adore it and I hope you do, as well!

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Chapter 31

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The flight from New Amsterdam to California would take fourteen hours. When booking, Stephen had paid for one of the airship's coveted private cabins, wanting both the convenience and to ensure Peter would have fond memories of his first time on one of the zeppelins he was so interested in.

Peter's excitement over finally getting to ride in a zeppelin had been apparent all week. He was less excited about the need to wake up at three in the morning so they could make it to the hangar in Upper York and fly out at five in the morning. Even with Stephen making sure the Buick was loaded the night before, there was still a feeling of being rushed which neither of them enjoyed.

"You are insufferable when you're cranky from lack of sleep," Stephen told him while driving.

"I've been told," Peter said through a yawn. "Sorry about that. My Aunt May hated trying to wake me up."

"When we board, the flight staff will have their safety presentation that we'll have to sit through. Then, you'll have the chance to sleep in the cabin once we're airborne and stable." He'd sat through the safety lecture many times.

"And you'll make sure I don't sleep the whole time?"

"It's a fourteen hour flight; you'll be awake for the majority of it, I promise."

Peter nodded and dozed off with his head against the window.

He roused Peter once they pulled into the parking garage for the hangar and they made their way to the security checkpoint where their tickets and identification was checked. The attendant at the counter frowned at him when he provided Peter's identification but passed them through.

"What was that about?" Peter asked.

Ah. Peter had noticed.

"I believe she took exception with the fact that your identification was issued by the Bureau and that I'm a selecting spouse."

That had Peter offering up a frown of his own. "Well, that's just dumb," he said. "Lots of people have BCSS marriages."

Was he reading too much into Peter's words? Or was Peter just still grumpy from lack of sleep?

"Luckily a sour expression was all we had to deal with," he soothed. "And her sour expression is basically a smile compared to the charge nurse at Sanctum General's ER."

Peter grinned. "You've made Nurse Temple angry before, haven't you?"

"Only once. It wasn't on purpose, and I've learned to tread carefully since," he admitted. He'd rather swallow rocks than risk incurring Nurse Temple's wrath again. Her ire had not been fun to be the recipient of and she had a stressful enough job as it was.

"Aw, he's human just like the rest of us!"

"You're such a brat."

Tired as he was, Peter looked around the bustling hangar - one of eight on the edge of Upper York - with interest. He'd been here once before, but he'd been too excited about meeting Tony Stark! to pay much attention in and around the massive structure. The zeppelin he and Stephen would be flying out on was the third ship to leave the assigned hangar that morning. There was a fourth airship behind them.

Peter knew zeppelins were so much larger than many realized, but seeing the size of the passenger gondola and how it was dwarfed by the sheer size of the envelope of the ship was truly awe-inspiring. Obviously the airship was huge - the hangars were each thirty stories tall and three football pitches wide, after all - but seeing it in-person was a whole new experience. Even the mobile mooring masts that steered the zeppelins in and out of the hangars were impressive.

"This is the Cessna LTA 2-4026 model," he rattled off while they stood waiting to board. "It was officially approved to fly two years ago and so far there are thirteen hundred all over the globe, and they make up thirty percent of the zeppelins flying today."

Stephen listened patiently as they progressed through the line and up the ramp. He handed the attendant the top copy of their tickets, reserving the canary and pink copies for the lunch check during the flight and luggage retrieval once they arrived in New Angeles. Peter's excitement at something as mundane as air travel was enjoyable to witness. He himself had flown multiple times and did fine the science and grandeur of it interesting, but Peter's enthusiasm lent a new view of it all, somehow. He also found it adorable that Peter kept yawning through his recitations.

They were escorted to their cabin where they stowed their carry-ons. Stephen locked the cabin and slipped the key in the interior pocket of his blazer. Then he and Peter took two of the unassigned seats. Peter looked around, taking in every detail he could. Stephen could see him practically vibrating with the desire to move over to the side of the gondola where the windows provided a currently unimpressive view.

"You can go look once we're in the air and the flight staff have given us leave to move around."

In less than half an hour, everyone had boarded and took their seats.

A voice came on over the speakers.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Captain Seagrum and assisting me on this fourteen hour flight to New Angeles, California is Captain Ayers. We're in the process of completing our pre-flight checks and will start our steering out of the hangar once given the green light by Hangar Control. In the meantime, our dedicated flight staff will brief you on the safety procedures of this airship."

The flight staff ran through their presentation and while many of the passengers had obviously heard it before, Peter made sure to pay attention. Logically he knew where was an almost zero percent chance of a water landing, but surely knowing what would be expected was better than not knowing. What if they were forced to land on a lake and it was up to him to save everyone?

Captain Seagrum came back on the speakers after the fight staff finished. "We've been given the green light so please remain seated as we steer out of the hangar and begin our ascent."

Slowly, the zeppelin began moving through the hangar until they were steered outside where the sun was beginning to rise, painting the horizon orange and pink. There was a pause wherein Peter assumed the hangar ground crew were detaching the mooring mast and then there was the curious and gentle sensation of the ship rising.

"We are beginning our ascent, and we expect to cruise at an altitude of approximately three thousand meters."

Peter leaned into Stephen. "Cessna is currently doing research and development into pressurized gondolas. The thought is that that pressurizing will allow the zeppelins to reach higher altitudes. But if they do, they'll have to address making the shell and envelope of the ship stronger." Then he yawned, causing Stephen to chuckle.

"Looks like you'll be going down for a nap shortly," Stephen told him. When Peter opened his mouth to complain, Stephen cut him off. "You'll be awake for plenty of this flight and I'm not going to listen to you struggling to stay awake when you'll have a comfortable place to rest."

"Can I at least look out the promenade windows first?"

"Yes, of course."

The all-clear to move around the gondola was given and Peter fairly launched himself out of his seat and over to the starboard promenade area. Stephen joined him at much more dignified pace, though he enjoyed seeing Peter so excited. Peter looked out one of the floor to ceiling windows, taking in the view of what was turning out to be a magnificent New Amsterdam morning in late spring.

Stephen let Peter take in the view for a few minutes before he tried to stifle a large yawn. "Okay, to the cabin with you."

He guided Peter to their private cabin and unlocked the door.

The cabin itself held a queen bed, a small built in chest of drawers, and an armchair. There were also windows with retracting shades.

"Are you going to stay here?" Peter asked after removing his shoes, his blazer, and tie. He started unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt.

"Would like for me to stay?" Stephen asked. "And if your answer is dependent on whether or not I intend the ravish you at three thousand meters, the answer is no. The soundproofing of these cabins is quite lacking, I'm afraid. I'd rather keep your delightful noises to myself."

Peter blushed but nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. In our home is one thing, but in a public zeppelin is another."

"Precisely."

"Isn't there a dining lounge a level down?" Peter asked.

"There is."

"You should have breakfast, then," he said. "It'll be seven before long."

"Alright. I'll lock the door behind me; no one should bother you. Get some sleep and I'll wake you up in time for luncheon."

He waited until Peter drifted off and then left, doing as he said and locking the door behind him. He didn't linger in the dining lounge, content to eat a bagel with cream cheese and lox - Peter was on to something there - a small bowl of cut fruit, and wash down breakfast with a cup of coffee. His fellow passengers were even less inclined to talk at the early hour than he was so luckily, no one approached.

There wasn't much else to do but content himself with one of the books he'd brought. He chose a seat on the port side promenade and started reading. It was a medical murder thriller - one highly recommended by Clea he'd agreed to try. He found himself enjoying it tremendously, even if the man in charge of solving the gruesome and convoluted murder was no Rex Gladstone. He could even appreciate that author had clearly done her research; the doctors, nurses, and medical examiner she'd written knew their stuff. Probably an hour later, one of the flight staff pushed her cart through the promenade and Stephen accepted the offer of a cherry fizzy water and a small bag of crisps before turning his attention back to the book. He needed to know if he'd correctly guessed who the killer was and their motive.

(He was right.)

He started on another book and was half-way through it when he noticed that some of the other passengers were leaving the promenade. He checked his watch and saw that it was almost time to wake Peter.

His young husband was curled up on the bed, chest rising and falling softly. He looked so peaceful that Stephen almost hated to wake him up. However, Peter needed to eat and letting him get too much sleep before acclimating to a new time zone once they reached California would only lead to his husband being cranky, which Stephen had no desire to deal with.

He shook Peter awake gently. "Peter, it's time to wake up."

Peter's eyes fluttered open and he stretched. "It's time already?"

"They'll start serving luncheon in about thirty minutes."

Peter nodded and sat up. "There should be food I'll be able to eat, right?"

"Yes, I informed the ship line when I bought our tickets. Your canary copy has your dietary note on it."

"Oh! Great!" He started to re-button his cuffs and the top three of his shirt. He took the tie Stephen handed him and pulled it tighter after slipping it around his neck. His shoes were next and then he shrugged into the light-weight blazer. "Will I do?"

"I'll be the envy of many, for sure," Stephen said with a smile.

Peter's cheeks went pink.

"Come, I don't believe in being fashionably late."

Peter barely resisted pinching himself over the course of luncheon. He couldn't believe that he, Peter Strange, poor guy from Midtown, was actually eating a fancy luncheon on a zeppelin! He always imagined that if he ever got to take a ride on one, it would be one of the smaller commercial zeppelins, where seats were assigned and passengers only served a small snack and refreshment.

Instead he sat across from Stephen enjoying a bowl of hot tomato basil soup with a perfectly cooked grilled cheese on sourdough. There was also a bowl of fruit and his favorite brand of lemon fizzy water. Stephen's lunch was an arugula salad topped with radishes, cherry tomatoes, pine nuts, feta cheese, a balsamic vinaigrette, and sliced steak cooked to a medium rare. He forewent the offered fizzy water and instead had a glass of red wine.

"Is it good?" he asked Stephen.

"It is. Yours?"

"Oh, it's wonderful," Peter assured him. "Simple can be good." It was simple, yes, but the soup was flavorful and the grilled cheese had a delightful mix of cheeses that elevated it far above what he himself would usually make.

"How was your nap?"

"The bed is far more comfortable than I thought it would be," Peter said. "What did you end up doing?"

Stephen wiped his mouth and smiled. "I sat on the promenade and read. I finished the copy of A Hush at Stillsong General Clea loaned me and started Mutiny of the Spaceborn."

"No wild parties, then?"

"No wild parties."

"What did you think of Stillsong?" Peter asked eagerly.

"It was a good read," Stephen admitted. "I can always appreciate when an author does their research and the medical aspect was handled very well."

"Did you guess who the killer was?"

"And the motive," Stephen confirmed. "It was a good read; I enjoyed it."

One of the staff wheeled over a dessert cart and they each selected what they preferred. Stephen chose a warm apple crumble tart and Peter, knowing he was being quite predictable, chose a chocolate pudding parfait.

"I knew that's what you'd pick," Stephen teased after the young man wheeling the cart moved on.

"I've always had a weakness for chocolate," Peter said simply, digging into his parfait.

The view from the promenade was spectacular and Stephen glanced from his book to the windows every now and again. Peter had finally settled down with a book of his own - another gruesome murder mystery loaned to him by Clea. It was an enjoyable afternoon and he spent as much time people-watching as he did reading and looking out of the floor to ceiling windows.

"What time will it be when we arrive in Malibu?" he asked Stephen when they returned to the dining lounge for supper.

Stephen checked his watch and presumably did some quick math in his head. "It will be around four pm because of the time difference. We'll most likely arrive at the mansion around five-thirty."

Peter shook his head. "Time zones are so weird."

Stephen chuckled. "They are and they have confounded and exhausted many a traveler. Our mobiles will update when we land so we'll be oriented."

"Is Tony picking us up from the hangar?"

"He's sending a car service," Stephen said. "Given her delicate condition he's hesitant to leave Sharon alone at home and he's even less inclined to let her leave their mansion."

"No wonder she sounded so annoyed when I spoke with her the other day," Peter said. "She kept muttering about how she was going to slip a sleeping tonic into his drink so she could get some peace and quiet."

Stephen laughed harder.

"You don't sound very sympathetic to her plight," Peter chided playfully.

"Hey, I tried to warn her off when they first met," Stephen said, still laughing.

"I'm glad they found each other," Peter said. "I know I never met them before they got married, but they just seem to work, you know?"

Stephen nodded. "I do. I had my reservations, but now I can't imagine either of them with someone else. True happiness like theirs is rare."

They continued reading, only stopping when yet another of the flight staff wheeled a cart in with fizzy waters, bottled sodas, and a selection of light snacks.

"I could get used to this," Peter commented as he enjoyed a lemon fizzy water and small plate of apple slices with peanut butter.

"I don't know," Stephen said. "I find myself missing the snacks you packed for me the last time I flew."

It was absurd, but Peter was ridiculously pleased to hear it.

The descent to the New Angeles International Hangar was smooth and Peter hardly felt the airship connect with the mobile mooring mast that begin to steer it into the awaiting hangar - one of twelve!

Stephen didn't seem to be in any rush to disembark, guiding Peter back to their cabin to collect their things and ensure they had their pink tickets for the luggage claim. Peter gave the zeppelin one last look around before following Stephen and joining the throng of people in the arrivals bay.

"Was it everything you hoped it would be?" Stephen asked once they claimed their luggage and went to the passenger pick up bay.

"It was!" Peter assured him. "It was perfect! Even if I did have to nap for part of it."

There was a chauffeur waiting with a small sign that read 'Strange'. Stephen confirmed with the man that he was indeed employed by Stark Industries and showed his own identification. Peter didn't see why the man had to store their luggage in the trunk of the gleaming Cadillac, but followed Stephen's lead. Stephen helped him into the back of the car and then joined him.

"How long of a drive is it?" Peter asked.

The chauffeur, Klaus, answered before Stephen could. "It will be around an hour," he said. "We'll use the pooling lane to avoid most of the outgoing rush hour traffic."

While Stephen and Klaus made light conversation, Peter spent the ride leaning against Stephen, content with the easy-listening radio station Klaus had happily turned on. It had been such a long day and he was looking forward to going to bed later that evening almost as much as he was looking forward to seeing Sharon and Tony again.

"Not much longer," Stephen assured him quietly. "We'll visit, have dinner, visit some more, and then I'll take you to bed."

Peter eyed him. "Planning on returning the favor from their last visit?"

Stephen smirked. "Oh, you have no idea."

-------

[wanderingandfound]

Spider-Man spoilers:

I hope Captain Stacy stays quit. Yeah this movie is copaganda. But I hope it at least commits to "Good cops quit." I know it won't. But I still hope.

Also like, MILES IS RIGHT! Sorry, Pavitr's girlfriend's cop dad wouldn't have nearly died if not for SPOT. Who is from MILES' 'VERSE! How can that be unmovable canon but Miles rescuing him not be? Not to out myself as a shallow fan who has never read a comic or watched a cartoon where Spidey saw a police captain he's close to die, but I don't think that's an essential part of who Spidey is, the same way losing that initial loved one is. When we left the theater my siblings' were talking about the MCU and where wondering how on earth I haven't seen any of the Tom Holland Spidey films. So I quickly went over my split from the MCU and mentioned how much I dislike that they looted Miles' backstory for MCU!Peter: the magnet school for really smart kids, Ganke/Ned (Ganke was still barely in this movie and they said he was barely in the first because they didn't want people thinking they were copying Peter!!!), the stable middle class family. And my siblings made some objection and I got really loud that one of the anchor points of Peter Parker is and should be his financial struggles!!!!

Anyways, ACAB but Miles should be able to save his dad and Pavitr should be able to keep his dude alive. Like I understand the stress Michael is under and that he is trying to keep the Spider-Verse from unraveling. But Miles isn't trying to time travel or dimension-hop to save his dad or get a replacement dad! He is trying to save his own father in his own timeline, and I think he should have been allowed to try.

My siblings talking about the MCU and Doctor Strange just reminded me about how mad I am about how the MCU has done my darling America Chavez dirty. And seeing "Spider-Man 2099" on screen reminded me at pissed I am at Marvel for killing of Kamala Khan and not even doing it in her own books!

So while I had a truly lovely time with the movie and believe that it is a work of fucking art, I don't think it's gonna get me to go back in to Marvel. I'd just be disappointed.

Okay this might be a little mean, but given how many US artists spend their pre-teen and teenage years drawing manga/anime fan art, why are they still so bad at it? I remember criticisms of the first movie, and Peni Parker still didn't look a third as good as I know anime can look (separately from the fact that she was purposefully looking tired and worn out). Like she looks better than the art that libraries frequently get to try and connect to teens, but like I'm also thinking of that art when I'm wondering why USians manga/anime style so often looks so bad.

Anyways I have a headache and it's past my bedtime. Go see the movie!

[iliumheightnights]

Injured | Peter Parker x Stark!Son reader

Fandom: Marvel, MCU, Spiderman Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!reader (Stark son) Summary: Peter and M/n have had their issues since they've first met. But will that change after Peter gets seriously injured during a mission? ...

(M/n) had just finished the book he was reading and went to grab a snack when the quinjet landed on the landing pad. “Oh dad’s back with boy wonder.” What could he say? He was jealous that Peter got to spend so much time with Tony now. That he got to go on missions with them while he stayed confined to the tower. It was almost like he was his son instead. He didn’t like that feeling at all.

The boy’s feelings of jealousy would have to be put on hold however. He watched as the Avengers ran down the ramp carrying Peter on a stretcher. From where he was standing Peter didn’t look good….not at all. 

The Avengers burst through the doors with Peter and rushed him down the hall. “Someone get Doctor Cho now!” Steve shouted. ‘She’s already been called sir.’ Friday’s voice spoke up. (M/n) rushed behind them. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He tried to ask literally anyone but they all ignored him and they rushed Peter to the medical wing.

(M/n) followed them all the way to the medical wing but stopped just short of the room they put Peter in. Only Tony and the Doctor were allowed in. That was fair, this wasn’t something (M/n) HAD to be there for. He could respect that enough to realize everyone needed SOME privacy in this tower.

“So…what happened?” (M/n) asked looking at the closed doors. Nat stood beside him and sighed. “It was a standard mission. Just take out a hidden hydra base. We thought it’d be easy…then Taskmaster showed up.” (M/n) listened to every word she said. “Peter saved us but in the process, he got badly injured. I just hope he’ll be alright.” She said. He could hear just how torn up she was about this. After all…the entire team loved Peter.

The door opened and Tony walked out. He didn’t have a look of relief but he also didn’t look destroyed so that was something. “How is he?” Nat asked. Tony sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Nothing yet. His vitals are stabilizing, but we’re still not sure yet. Doc’s trying her best but some of the cuts were deep.” Natasha nodded and soon both of them walked away leaving (M/n) in front of the door.

After a little while the door opened and the doctor walked out. “Oh. (M/n), I didn’t know you were out here.” (M/n) shrugged. “Didn’t make myself known.” Helen nodded. “He’s stable now and there are signs of recovery. I was just about to tell your father and the others. You’re welcome to go in and see him though he’s still sleeping.” The boy nodded. “Thanks doc.” Once she left (M/n) entered the room.

He hated the medical wing. It always reminded him of when he needed to get shots or when his dad had to go through his many surgeries. It always scared him. The clean sterile white walls and smell of everything didn’t help either. Not to mention the beeping of the monitors, which luckily were stable.

There in the bed was Peter. (M/n) looked him over. His face had a few cuts, a black eye was developing and he for sure looked worse for wear. “Well…don’t get cleaned up for me or anything. You look like shit.” (M/n) shot up to Peter who was still asleep. A small chuckle escaped as well, however, there was no humor in it.

“You know since you’re asleep I can finally tell you what I want.” (M/n) stepped closer to the bed. “I absolutely hate you. I despise you.” He felt as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders with those words gone. “I hate how you came into my life and stole my dad from me. I hate how you seem to be so good and perfect at everything and it points out my flaws. I hate how even after I’m rude to you…you still treat me like a good person.” He breathed in to say his final thoughts. He could feel himself shake. “But most importantly…I hate how you made me care. I hate that I’m worried for you. I hate that you made me fall for you.” He felt the tears falling from his face. “So you’re GOING to get up and get better. Because now I have to get payback for all these conflicting emotions you’ve given me.”

(M/n) swiped away the tears from his face and finished up the last few sniffles he had before going to stand up. But as he went to go he felt Peter’s hand reach out and grab his, the boy's thumb rubbing against his knuckles. “Don’t go.” the other boy said, his voice faint and quiet…but there. The Stark boy froze and looked at Peter before eventually smiling. “Really? Normally you can’t wait for me to leave. Are you just such a masochist you enjoy me yelling at you?” This time there was humor behind the words and (M/n) returned to his seat. “Because I don’t mind yelling at you more. I’m sure there are lots I can say about this whole situation.” Peter let out a small laugh at that.

Everything was going to be fine. Who knows…perhaps things were going to be even better than what they were before. Either way Tony and (M/n) were going to give Peter a stern talking to when he was better and work on giving him more protection.

[jin0]

Hi Jin!!! I came across your account recently and have loved it. Already stalked through and all. On to the request. Im a white, brown/blonde haired girl, blue/green eyes (my trademark if you will), cancer sun, Gemini moon, and Virgo rising, enfp, writer in the works, bubbly very energetic (thanks adhd), witty ad sarcastic, but also kind and sympathetic. I’m into the arts, so music, dancing, writing, acting, I actually play a few instruments and sing a lot. I have many passions but my main one currently is my job, working at a restaurant, and my second job were I look after and tutor young kids. For this request if it could be an Andrew Garfield character that would be lovely, but you go with your thoughts. I hope you’re having a wonderful day/week/ almost valentines day!!! Agh almost Valentine’s this year is already going by so fast

okay so i read your description and I've got PERFECTLY what is needed (when you publish your first book, send me the name !! i wanna read !!)

to you darling, i assign :

andrew's peter parker !! :

swinging by your window, he couldn't help the scoff that escaped his lips under his mask. there you were, as always, typing frantically on your laptop and putting out the next vines that would build your new story.

he never thought he'd love having a writer as a girlfriend (and future wife if he was being honest with himself). watching you build your own world and incorporate things from your daily lives together in just made him the happiest ever. what he loved more about your current story was that the main characters were inspired by the both of you and that made him fall more and more in live for you each passing chapters.

he'd never seen himself as a main character but you were the one to bring out and verbalize all the things you saw in him. he was always very good at pointing out your beauty but taking it from you just turned him into the reddest tomato possible.

now one thing about you that he would never like was your incapacity to sleep. at all. you never slept and he often had to wrestle you to the mattress. you'd try to slip away but he was quicker and prepared to have you try and escape. you'd be very surprised to find your feet webbed together. try to run like that, little bunny.

jumping inside through the window and leaning against the wall, he watched over you with a smile as you kept typing. your posture was honestly terrible and he couldn't believe that you didn't suffer from back pain more often. probably had to do with him massaging you so much.

he admired you lean forward so much that your face was practically stuck on the screen. he couldn't keep his goofy smile, you were the woman who stole his heart. stealing being a big word, he practically gave it to you. you took it when the door was wide open and you had a key and an axe. you were basically equiped to steal from a man who was basically letting you in.

he could see your eyes, red from exhaustion and crying repeatedly as you could barely stay awake but kept pushing to go further in your story. it was probably that chapter you had in mind before he left for patrol. he was really proud of that one, he threw an idea and saw the eureka moment on your face. you looked like he'd just revealed the secrets of the universe and only chuckled when you kissed his cheek before running off to your laptop.

shaking his head, he ripped his mask off before walking towards you. he pulled your rolling chair and smiled further when you whined.

"it's literally 4 in the morning bunny, i don't even know how you're still typing." he chuckled, looking to try and get you to look at him.

"argh ! let go of the chair parker. my brain's rolling right now." you groaned, eyes fixated on the screen.

"baby, your brain is always rolling, i think that's how adhd works. don't even try and make me think today is special. your genius isn't going to run away because you actually sleep today."

"you don't know that ! the genius never tells what happens after ! it only does what it does ! now let me be mister ! i have to finish this chapter !" you exclaimed, swatting his hand away.

giving up on communicating with you, he pulled your chair a little more, to move you away from the computer. you kept typing as he slid his arms under your legs and behind your back. you started squirming but kept typing, whining loudly. soon, he completely lifted you off the floor and spun around to prevent you from grabbing the device.

"peter ! my fucking god, i was writing here !"

"i could see that and i'm not caring clearly. i have a big issue with you not sleeping though." he responded, looking into your eyes. "I love that you're doing what you love and building your dream worlds. but I'm not going to let you go around sleep deprived bunny. i need you to try and sleep sometimes too. we can't be both out suffering from insomnia and a terrible sleep schedule."

you stared back at him, giving up on this useless fight. your body was giving up on you and your mind was also siding with him. you were tired and needed a good night sleep. this was necessary and you had neglected it.

you loved peter for being the one you loved. he cared enough to carry you to bed even when he was all bloody and bruised. he was the one to care for you just as much as you cared for him. just like the man you'd been writing about would.

laying on the bed, he tucked you in the sheets before going to the bathroom to was up a little. when he came back, he chuckled, seeing you passed out and cuddling his pillows.

running back to your laptop, he sat in front of it to read what you'd put in. as soon as he read the first line, he couldn't stop his heart from violently slamming against his ribcage.

you were writing a chapter on the character that was inspired from him. a man so driven by his heart and morals that he would manage to make the right choice at all time. nothing could sway him and even when he made mistakes, he learned, grew and did better. he was a representation of how you saw peter.

reading a little more, he was feeling like the luckiest man in the world, reading the words your character thought of his and letting his heart swell. you were loving him through your words, sharing the things you thought and desired in your words and letting his character know what you felt.

the more he read, the clearer it got : you were speaking to him and declaring how much you loved him. you were professing your world for all your readers to see, telling them how deeply in love you were for the photographer who had out a picture of him in your heart.

that night when he came to meet you in bed, letting your body cuddle up to his and your thighs wrap around his waist as he caressed them softly, his lips kissed your forehead and your cheeks before going down to your lips and whispering sweet words of love to you. he let your sleeping for absorb the things he wanted you to hear, telling you how proud he was and how much he loved you. you were his muse and he was yours.

he kissed you tenderly in your sleep, making up his mind on the future. he would finally stop hiding that shiny ring he'd bought so long ago, it became embarrassing. he'd pull it out and ask you to become his forever writer, letting the world know how much you two loved each other.

like the lovers from classical romantic literature, you'd both become the main characters of your own story.

but for now, he'd let you sleep and catch up on all these missed hours.

[ameliora-j]

before i fell // dm x reader

words: 2.8k

warnings: angst, talk of a breakup, mention of loss of virginity, mention of not eating, mention of not sleeping, pansy is kinda ooc and so is draco, the slytherins are assholes

a/n: i used a lot of olivia rodrigo lyrics bc i listened to SOUR while writing lol. lmk if i should add other warnings and happy reading babies!

you would be cliche and say that you fell in love the way that you fall asleep. slowly and then all at once. but you couldn’t because you didn’t. it wasn’t a john green novel and you weren’t hazel grace lancaster. falling in love wasn’t simple, and that description of it truly… didn’t describe anything. falling in love was more complicated than that. there were more layers to it than that. falling in love was rather… quick and unexpected. unexpected like snow in the middle of march. or rain when there’s not a cloud in sight. quick like waiting months for an event and finally when the time comes, it feels like you blinked and then it was over.

falling in love with draco malfoy was all of these things and more. falling in love with draco malfoy brought upon more layers than that. falling in love with draco malfoy brought pain. not just any kind of pain, no… horrible, heart wrenching, gut twisting pain. pain that began by bubbling itself in your chest right at the center of your heart, then slowly but surely worked it’s way outwards. encapsulating your entire body and making every inch of your body ache. pain like when you get attached to a character and the author kills them off. pain like when you finish your favorite book and you realize that you’re not truly in that universe and none of that actually happened. pain like when you’re two hours, fifteen minutes, and twelve seconds into avengers: infinity war and peter parker says “mr. stark, i don’t feel so good.” pain that you’ve never felt. pain that can’t be described. pain that you felt for days. pain.

you thought it was strange when the platinum blonde slytherin sought you out. he came to you one day while you sat silently at the black lake. you were alone, but only because you liked to be. you had friends of course, many actually, but you chose to be alone. the black lake was your place of solace. then along came draco. he sat beside you, a good distance away, but his presence was known. you looked to him for an explanation but he offered none. just smiled at you and turned to his notes, so you did the same. the second time he came, he sat closer, but still in silence. the third time is when he struck up conversation.

“yln, yeah?” he questioned.

“yn, actually. but yes, yn yln. and you’re draco malfoy?” you asked.

“i am,” he smirked at your knowledge of his name and then you returned to your studying. after that, the two of you talked every time he came and sat with you. short discussions about the weather or the potions assignment. you don’t know when, but soon they became longer. discussions of your day and your family. your interests and how you got your name. how you loved the rain and the stars and how you loved hogwarts, but you often missed home. draco knew you inside and out and you knew him—and before long, you called the tall, skinny blonde your boyfriend.

you walked the halls of hogwarts together, hand in hand. draco walked haughtily with a hard scowl and you with a bright smile. while you walked cheerfully and waved to your friends and to first years while draco glared at anyone who dared look at the two of you. he took you to parties in the slytherin common room and you wore his jersey proudly at quidditch games, even when he played against your house. he bought you lavish gifts at all of your trips to hogsmeade and he showered you in kisses, praise, and affection. you were whole heartedly smitten with the sole heir to the malfoy fortune.

it was one fateful day in the common room when your heart absolutely exploded. that was the day you knew that you fell in love with draco malfoy. you had been a thing for about two, going on three, months. you were sitting in the slytherin common room, reading in silence when he asked. you were pressed against his chest and he pressed a soft kiss to your head. “‘ve been meaning to ask you something,” he murmured gently. this caused you to close the book and turn your full attention to him. “want you to wear this,” he said, holding out a ring. “it’s the malfoy family crest.”

your stomach and your heart exploded into billions of butterflies and you launched yourself forward, straight into his chest. millions of emotions overcame you as you squeezed his neck as tight as possible. you nodded into his neck as a few stray tears fell. he kissed your head repeatedly as he slid the ring onto your finger before pressing his lips to your’s gently. you giggled excitedly as you stared down at the ring on your finger. “do you like it?” he asked you.

“i love it, dray. i love you. thank you s’much,” you confessed for the first time as you cuddled back into his chest. you don’t know what it was that made the blonde boy seek you out, but you’re glad he did. if only you knew the true nature of his intentions. but alas, you were oblivious.

it was the beginning of the school year, on the train to hogwarts. in the compartment of what was labeled as “the slytherin squad.” there sat theo nott, pansy parkinson, blaise zabini, and—your now boyfriend—draco malfoy.

they were all sitting around, taking the piss out of draco for all of his past failed relationships when it was brought up. “i’ll bet malfoy couldn’t get a girl to fall in love with him if he paid her,” theo spoke.

“i’ll take that bet,” draco countered.

“alright. but we get to pick the girl,” blaise decided.

“what?” pansy asked as theo began to look around the compartment. it was a few minutes before he found the victim. it was then that your fate was sealed. there, sitting in the back corner, head tucked deep into a copy of the fault in our stars, was you. you. awkward and quiet. you with seemingly no friends. poor little unsuspecting you.

“that one,” nott smirked evilly.

“what the weirdo?!” draco exclaimed incredulously. “no way!”

“so then you forfeit?” blaise asked, causing draco to release a frustrated exhale.

“alright i’ll do it,” he rolled his eyes.

“then we give you five months. make yn yln fall in love with you in five months and we’ll do your homework for the rest of the year,” theo posed.

“and if i don’t?” draco asked.

“and when you don’t… thennn,” blaise taunted as he searched for a deal that was fair.

“then we get two hundred galleons each and you have to apologize to potter for making his life hell,” theo smirked. draco scoffed at this and rolled his eyes, but nodded nonetheless.

“and what are my conditions?” he raised an eyebrow.

“she has to say it first. you can do anything you want or need to get her to say it, but you cannot say ‘i love you’ first,” blaise spoke.

“this doesn’t seem fair to yn,” pansy piped in.

“shut your mouth parkinson. no one asked your opinion,” theo growled with a roll of his eyes. but it was too late. there was absolutely nothing the girl could do to get the three to change their minds. she just had to sit idly by and watch draco malfoy break your heart as she said nothing. she wished that she could stop it, but their minds were made up. and the three of them were very stubborn.

it was a few days after draco gave you his ring when your bubble came crashing down. you were walking to meet draco at your spot at the black lake when blaise and theo intercepted you. you knew who they were, of course you did. they were your boyfriend’s best friends, however why they were currently speaking to you, you had no idea.

they told you it would be quick. that they just wanted to show you something in the slytherin common room and left little room for argument, so you had no choice but to follow them there. they sat you on the couch and began to discuss your relationship with draco. you were very confused and had no idea why you were here. “so… draco hasn’t told you?” blaise mocked a gasp of shock.

“no?” you raised a soft eyebrow as you stared on. this made theo smirk evilly as he pulled up a projector and pointed his wand at it. a picture appeared, it looked like a memory. “what’s this?” you asked before the boys urged you to ‘shh.’ you sunk further into the couch as you idly watched on.

you truly weren’t paying attention untill you heard the voice of your boyfriend. the words he spoke stung. you were soft. emotional. the way he spoke about you absolutely crushed you. it would crush anyone, but it shattered you especially. “she’s so fucking weird!” “i’ll take that bet.”

‘s all you were. all you ever were. just a stupid belt. another notch in his belt. it was that moment that draco had barged into the common room. but by then, it was already too late. the tears had already sprung to your eyes and you were preparing for a torrential downpour as you heard his voice. “i’m out!” he announced breathlessly. he froze in his run as his eyes fell on you and what was playing on the projector currently. “bunny…” he whispered softly as his hand touched your shoulder, but you quickly jerked away as if his hand had burned you on contact.

“don’t call me that. don’t touch me,” you demanded as the tears began to fall. “that’s all i was? a bet?” an involuntary whimper sounded from the depths of your throat. “i feel so stupid.” you shook your head.

“no, bunny please listen to me,” you didn’t allow the boy to finish as you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself.

“don’t call me that!” you demanded. “in fact don’t call me at all. don’t… don’t talk to me draco. ever again. i can’t believe i fell for your stupid joke. i feel so… i feel like an idiot,” you spoke. you shook your head, hastily wiping at your eyes untill you saw stars. it was then that you decided to walk away.

“YN STOP!” draco yelled. “LISTEN to me,” he demanded.

“NO!” you shouted as you turned to face him finally. “godric draco, i wish you would’ve thought this through before i went and fell in love with you,” you sniffled as you wiped your snot on your sweater sleeve.

“yn please just let me explain. please listen to me, please,” he begged.

“i feel like you betrayed me,” you shook your head. “i told you everything. you were my everything. draco i loved you. i actually loved you. i thought you loved me too but i guess you’re just a really good actor,” you sniffled once more. “i hate you draco. i really fucking hate you. i don’t want to hear your bullshit explanation because i know that you’ll never feel sorry for the way i’m hurting right now.”

“it was a bet!” draco shouted as you walked away, hand on the door knob. you scoffed as you muttered a sarcastic, ‘no shit.’ “that’s how it started yes, but then i got to know you. i figured out who you were. i learned that your favorite color is yfc and that you prefer night over day because you love the stars and that your favorite star is scorpius and you would name your son after that star one day. i learned that you love to read and you love when it storms but you're afraid of the thunder. you only dance when you’re drunk and you giggle when you’re nervous and i love that giggle. with everything in me i do. your favorite book is yfb and you choose to be alone but you let everyone be your friend. you’re gorgeous. inside and out and while it may have started as a bet, somewhere along the lines i fell in love with you so yn please. please don’t leave,” he whispered the last part as his voice came out broken.

you took a deep breath in before you began to speak. “you couldn’t have cared less about someone who loved you more. i’d say you broke my heart but you broke much more than that,” you shook your head as you furiously wiped at your eyes again. “i gave you my all draco. you were my first everything. i gave you my virginity for merlin’s sake. all to find out that i was just some stupid bet,” you scoffed.

“yn please believe me when i say that you’re so much more than that,” he begged again. “i came to tell them that they won. that i wanted out because i fell in love with you too!”

“it doesn’t matter if you don’t see me as a bet any longer. the fact is that you did. i’m worth so so much more than that.” your breaths were ragged as you spoke. “i really wish that you had thought this through before i went and fell in love with you.” you repeated with a small sniffle. “don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded? don’t you think i loved you too much to think i deserve nothing?” you were openly sobbing at this point.

“yn please believe me when i tell you how sorry i am…” he spoke softly.

“don’t tell me you’re sorry. feel sorry for yourself. because someday i’ll be everything to somebody else,” with this you turned away from him. you hastily opened the door and practically ran out of the common room and away from him.

at that moment you decided to forget about it. draco, and the bet, and love, and everything. like in the vampire diaries, you decided to turn your emotions off. you laid in your dorm crying for hours before you made that decision, however. your dorm mates checked on you often, but you never offered more than merely a half hearted shrug, letting them know that you were still alive, but barely breathing. you skipped classes and meals. you were a mere shell of yourself. it was about two weeks before you could face draco again. and even then you couldn’t truly. you went into the great hall and found “the slytherin squad” sans draco.

pansy looked at you sympathetically while theo and blaise basked in the glow of their new victory. you pulled the ring off carelessly as you stopped in front of them, hair disheveled and uniform askew. you had dark bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep you’d gotten in the past fourteen days and your eyes were rimmed red with the weight of your emotions. “c’you just give this back to malfoy,” you murmured half-heartedly as you dropped the ring on the table in front of the three. just speaking his name brought you pain.

your shoulders were sunken in defeat and you were but a shell of your usual cheerful self. you don’t even know when the last time you saw daylight or had fresh air was. “wait yln,” pansy called hesitantly. you turned to face her, still staring down at your mary janes as you pulled and twisted your fingers untill you heard your knuckles pop. “you… you really love him, don’t you?”

you just shrugged your right shoulder as you used the heel of your palm to wipe the snot from your rapidly reddening nose. “i was just some stupid bet,” you replied as tears begin to spill rapidly over your waterline.

“if it’s any consolation… it was those two bozos’ idea,” pansy told you as she pointed to blaise and theo.

“doesn’t matter,” you murmured. “he’s still a traitor,” you answered as you walked away, forgetting all about the slytherin prince and his stupid friends. forgetting all about how he hit you with a train of his “love.” forgetting all about how for three months he was your everything. forgetting all about how he wrote to his mum about you and you wrote to your parents about him. forgetting all about draco malfoy. the platinum blonde boy with stormy grey eyes who had a long story buried beneath his haughty exterior. the boy who you called your first. your first kiss. your first time. your first love. forgetting all about the boy that made you fall in love just to tell you it was all a bet.

attempting to revert back to how you were before you fell.

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Title: Written in the Roses

Pairing: Harley Keener x Peter Parker

Summary: When he is running away from an abusive ex-boyfriend, Peter Parker ends up in Rose Hill, Tennessee. As he tries to build a new life for himself, he meets someone new. Someone who can help him heal.

Warnings: past abusive relations, past manipulation, anxiety

A/N: this is the valentine's day fic that decided it needed to be longer than it was supposed to be. based on the song Mr. Rose by Spence Hill

AO3 Link

~~~

The day Peter moved to Tennessee, he felt like he could breathe for the first time in years.

He loved New York with all his heart, it would always be his home. He was raised there, with his parents, in May’s apartment, alongside Ned and MJ and-

It took months of convincing from May and Tony to make him believe he wasn’t running. Of course he wasn’t running, this was for the best.

He didn’t need New York anymore, and he would be better off literally anywhere else.

So he left. Tony was ready to help him set up anywhere he wanted, so Peter threw a dart at a map and it landed in Tennessee.

No one expected Peter Parker to go to Tennessee. It was perfect.

His plan was foolproof. Change his number, get a new computer, ditch his clothes, adopt a new style, take an untraceable car, and drive until he was far enough from New York that he couldn’t be followed. Not even Tony or May knew exactly where he was going, so no one could track him through them either.

Don’t take major highways, follow all the rules of the road, avoid security cameras, and start taking random turns when he thought he was being followed, turning into police stations if he got too paranoid.

He stepped out of his car at one of those roadside pull-offs and just stared at the mountains. The air was clearer than he ever imagined.

Finally, he let himself drop to his knees and cry. He was free.

~~~

Rose Hill was a small town, but not small enough that he couldn’t find an apartment. It was above an abandoned storefront, which was really a shame because it was cute. The whole street was. A coffee shop, post office, craft store, a diner, a bar, and a flower shop, all spaced out along the main road.

Living in New York meant there were too many things to count in a couple blocks. This was practically quaint.

Still, it felt like there was something missing.

It occurred to him one night when he was just about to go to bed.

“Kid? Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just. You know how bookstores always seem to just exist? Like no one knows where they come from but all the books are well loved, and there’s always a cat?”

“Sure, what about them?”

“How do you think they really start?”

There was a moment of silence as Tony thought. “I’m not sure. Maybe they just had too many books and didn’t know what to do with them, so they decided to share them with the world. Seriously kid, what’s on your mind?”

“There’s an empty shop below my apartment. Town like this could use a bookstore.”

Tony sighed, but it sounded affectionate. “Does May have any of your old books? I can pull out the ones I don’t read anymore and put out some feelers for more and start sending them to you. See what you can do about getting the business license and a cat.”

“Okay. You can ask May, but I don’t know what she saved. I’ll call you in a few days.”

“You got it kiddo. Talk to you later.”

“Wait, Tony-”

“Hmm?”

“What about…?”

“He hasn’t figured it out yet,” Tony assured him. “As far as he can tell, you’re dead in a dumpster somewhere, and is getting angrier by the day since he can’t find you.”

He sucked in a breath. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Kid, don’t worry about it. Repeat after me: you’re safe.”

“I’m safe.”

“You’re loved.”

“I'm loved.”

“And you did not deserve any of this, but you’re going to do great.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Goodnight, Pete.”

“Night.” The line clicked, and Peter stared up at the ceiling for a while until he eventually got tired.

His bookshelf only had a few books on it. Just his favorites that he couldn’t bear to leave behind. Maybe this could be the way he made a new life.

~~~

Getting the business license proved to be the easy part. The day after he called Tony, he walked down to the courthouse and talked to someone who claimed to be the mayor.

“That place hasn’t been anything in years,” he said. ��The problem is no one wants to deal with all the fixin’ up it’s gonna need.”

“What if I said I would?”

He lowered his glasses and looked Peter up and down. “You new in town, boy?”

“Yes sir.”

“Figured as much. The accent gives it away, but no one in this town’s ever given a rat's ass about that place.”

“Call me a bleeding heart, sir, but I can’t stand to see a place like that go uncared for.”

The mayor raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Alright then. Stay there, let me go get the paperwork and I’ll send you on your way.”

Peter walked out a few minutes later with a stack of files and the mayor’s number in case he had any questions. Now to find out if this town had a humane society.

~~~

All said and done, it took four months.

Convincing the bank to let him buy the building when he had effectively no job or steady income was difficult to say the least, but he showed them proof of a significant amount of savings and they let him have it.

Peter walked out with the deed, a set of keys, and a ‘good luck’. Everything he needed.

Opening the door revealed a lot of dust and cobwebs, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He ran back to his car to grab some of the things he’d picked up from the store on his way home, and came back with a mask, gloves, and garbage bags.

Time to get to work.

He started by dragging all the old furniture to the curb, and then throwing away all the trash that was left behind.

The floors needed work, and there was no counter to speak of, much less bookshelves, but with a lamp here and maybe a record player there-

Yeah, Tennessee was right for him.

Pulling everything out had been the right move. He had to sand and completely refinish the floors, not because the old floors were ugly, but parts of it were splattered with paint, and that just wouldn’t do.

Since he couldn’t be in the building for a few days, he took the opportunity to go out and find shelves and a desk he could use as the checkout counter, as well as some paint samples. He wanted something blue, maybe some red accents.

Predictably, the biggest obstacle was the books themselves. Tony couldn’t very well send them since Peter still couldn’t give him his address, plus most of Tony’s friends were in the public eye, and a shipment like that would draw too much attention from anyone who might be paying attention.

Not even May could come down, just in case he was still watching. He couldn’t risk it, not when he’s come so far.

His saving grace came in the form of one of Tony’s coworker’s wives who the general public had no idea existed. It took a bit of doing, but he trusted her enough that no one would figure out where he was, even through her.

“Laura,” she introduced herself, setting a box down heavily on the floor. “Laura Barton.”

Together, they dragged boxes upon boxes of books out of a moving van, and by the end of the day, Peter sat surrounded by a mountain of books, all ready to be sorted and shelved and priced.

~~~

His cat’s name was Data. She had a bed under the desk, but preferred hanging out on the higher shelves or even on top of piles of books when she couldn’t be bothered to climb all the way up.

Everyone loved her. Especially the little old ladies that came in. They thought she was darling.

Little old ladies were his primary clientele, which he was not going to complain about. He also had a lot of younger people come in, including some teenagers who offered to redesign his ‘Donations Welcome�� sign.

There were soft chairs set up around, and he kept soft music playing so it didn’t feel too much like a library.

Pen and Paper Used Books was meant to be welcoming for anyone who came in.

On one slow, fateful day, Peter looked up from his own book when the bell above the door rang to let him know someone came in. It wasn’t one of his regulars, but he glanced around a little before heading towards the counter.

As he approached, a couple of small children crossed his path, and he reached into his pocket to pull out what looked like flowers for the both of them. He handed each of them the buds and waved as they ran off again, quick as they appeared.

Peter was entranced.

He shook it off quickly so the man wouldn’t notice him staring. He removed his reading glasses and hung them over his collar before greeting him.

“Welcome to Pen and Paper, anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“I need a gift?” the man said, but it sounded like a question. “Sorry, I’m not sure where to start.”

“That’s alright. Who’s it for?”

“My mom.”

Okay. The guy was probably around his age, so he thought about what May would read. “Do you know what she’s usually interested in? Romance, thrillers…?”

“She likes humanity,” he said. “Stories about people being people. She also likes music if that helps.”

Humanity, music-

Right, he could work with that.

“Have you heard of Mitch Albom? Writer, journalist, had a lot to do with sports for a while?”

“I don’t really pay attention to sports,” the guy confessed.

“You don’t need to,” Peter told him. “He wrote this book about a musician that a lot of people liked. Went around with the women I grew up around faster than most books did. It should be around here somewhere…”

He hooked his ankle around a ladder and wheeled it closer so he could reach one of the higher shelves.

“Aha!” He grabbed the familiar cover and handed it down.

“The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto?” The guy scrunched his nose. “Sounds cheesy.”

“Yeah, but read the summary. I’ve read that book multiple times and it never gets old.”

He did so as Peter jumped down. “This actually sounds exactly like something she would like. Thank you.”

“Not a problem. That all you’re looking for today?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

They walked back up towards the counter so he could pay.

“Not much of a reader then, I take it?” Peter asked, just to make conversation.

“Nah, growing up I was more into building things. You?”

“Part of why this is my life, for sure. Still, I feel you. I practically grew up in a chemistry lab.”

“Man of science then, I see,” the man laughed. “Am I allowed to ask what got you into books?”

“Found a few good ones and then couldn’t get enough.” He put the book in a bag and handed it to him in exchange for the cash.

“I wish I could do something like that.”

“You probably could, you just haven’t found the right book yet,” Peter told him.

“Really? What would you recommend?”

Peter glanced at his copy of Fan Art just below the countertop. “Depends on what you’re looking for. Some people like having their hearts ripped out, some people just like seeing the good in the world.”

“I am definitely the latter,” he chuckled. “Can’t stand movies that are too serious, I feel like it would be worse with books.”

Made sense. “What kind of diversity are you looking for? Straight, gay-”

“Gay. I’m gay,” the guy blurted, and then promptly covered his face. “That’s not what you asked.”

“No, but I think I know what you’ll like,” Peter winked, and he blushed furiously. He pulled the bookmark out of his own copy and handed it to him. “It’s a little more on the YA side, and definitely dated, but it’s one of my go-tos when I need a fluffy pick-me-up.”

“Oh. How much?”

“No, call it insurance. Bring it back when you finish and tell me what you think.”

He looked hesitant. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Now go before I change my mind.”

“Alright. See you around.”

“See you!” Peter said cheerfully.

The guy gave him a little wave that Peter returned as he walked out the door.

It wasn’t till after he was down the street that Peter realized he left a red rose on the counter.

That wasn’t likely to be an interaction he would forget any time soon.

Even May could tell over the phone that night that something was up.

“You seem a little spacy today, honey. Everything alright?”

“Fine, May. Long day, that’s all.”

“Is that so? Any interesting customers?”

His thoughts floated back to the guy again, and May took his silence as an answer.

“So, were they cute?”

“Who says I met someone?”

“The day you met He Who We Do Not Speak Of, you were quieter. Like you were sitting at the table doing your homework, but you weren’t all there. Call it an educated guess.”

Peter sighed. “Fine, so there was a guy. Handsome, kinda dorky, accidentally came out to me, just my type.”

“I’m happy for you, Peter. You’re moving on, that’s a good thing.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, like if he was too loud he’d scare the giddy excitement away.

“So,” she said after a moment, “what’s his name?”

He hadn’t asked his name. “Uh.”

“You didn't get his name, did you?”

“No? But he said he was coming back, so I can ask then.”

“How can you be sure he’ll come back?”

“I recommended him my favorite book and he promised he’d come back and tell me whether or not he liked it?”

“He must have been really cute then,” she laughed.

“I’m hanging up now, bye May, I love you!” he called.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she stopped him. “Have you gotten out at all?”

“Barely. I’ve been busy trying to set up a life here.”

“You should start exploring the town. Who knows, maybe you’ll spot him around.”

“I will do my best to do so,” he conceded. “Love you, May.”

“Love you too, bugger. I can’t wait until we clear this whole mess up and I can bring you home.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They said their goodbyes, and Peter thought about where he could go the next day. He typically closed the shop for an hour or so in the afternoon so he could get lunch and make sure the cat still had water.

The coffee shop was a good place to start. He really did need to get out more.

~~~

How long does it take to become a regular somewhere?

Given that Peter had hardly walked through the door before Adora, the barista that always worked this shift, was handing him his order, he guessed after about two weeks of going to a place consistently.

“One of these I’m going to change my order just so you’re not prepared,” he snarked

“You do that, sweetie,” she returned, with an equal amount of sass.

He handed her his money, already pre-counted, because she wasn’t the only one prepared. “I mean it.”

“I know.”

It almost made him laugh how much these interactions reminded him of Queens. He would have had this same conversation with Delmar once upon a time, and yet here he is, hundreds of miles away.

“Did you finish that book on the history of animation?”

“You betcha. Wes was so excited when he realized I understood what he was talking about.”

“Wait until we get you into the more technical stuff.”

“Perish the thought, I think the history is far enough for now. That son of mine will start thinking I’m a cool mom, and we can’t have that.”

“Oh never, ma’am.”

“Run along and eat, honey. You’re already too skinny, I’m not going to be the one that lets you starve to death.”

Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m fine, Adora, stop worrying so much.” Then something in the counter caught his eye. “When did you get flowers?”

“Just yesterday. The boy from Mr. Rose came down and dropped ‘em off. I swear he keeps rose buds in his pockets just to hand out to kids.”

Rose buds. Peter wondered if there was any relation to the man from his shop a couple weeks prior. The guy hadn’t been back, but new readers always take longer to finish a story, even with smaller books.

“I wonder if that shop of yours could use a pop of color to brighten it up,” Adora continued, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I bet some sunflowers would look cute on one of those side tables.”

“I’ll think about it,” he told her. “What are the hours like?”

“They close about an hour after you do, so don’t you dare think about missing lunch,” she scolded him.

“Never in a million years,” he promised. “See you tomorrow, Adora.”

“Bye, Peter!”

He took a sip of his coffee as he walked out the door.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would see if the guy had any connection to the flower shop.

~~~

Mr. Rose looked like someone had smashed a house into a greenhouse and still somehow made it work.

Walking in the door proved his point as Peter was immediately misted by one of the many sprinklers dotted along the ceiling.

It took a minute to locate the desk underneath everything else, but eventually he made it to where the man from the bookstore was sitting, writing something down in a large notebook.

“Are you Mr. Rose?” Peter asked to get his attention.

His eyes snapped up and widened. “I- um- no? Well, yes technically because I own the place but I’m not- that’s not-” he sighed, defeated. “Can I start over?”

“Be my guest,” Peter teased.

“I’m Harley Keener. I didn’t name this place Mr. Rose, my mentor did, and for the record, his name wasn’t Mr. Rose either. The people in this town just think they’re funny putting Rose in front of everything.”

Harley. It suited him. “I’m Peter. So the builder takes care of flowers, I see.”

“And the chemist tends to his books,” Harley shot back.

“Which flowers do you think would go best with books? Just out of professional curiosity.”

“Well, if it’s professional curiosity.” Harley’s eyes twinkled with mirth as he moved from behind the counter to lead Peter around the shop. “I’ve always been a fan of vines tangled among bookshelves, but a sunflower or two in the children’s section or orchids hear the murder mysteries wouldn’t go amiss. Neither would roses in the romance section.”

He made a dramatic show of handing Peter a rose he plucked from a display.

“Tell me about them?”

“The roses?”

“Please?”

Harley took a deep breath. “This may be one of the most appropriate places to use rose in the name.” He gestured all around them. “We’re in a valley with a river at the bottom. When this town was settled, it was surrounded by a field of roses. It’s smaller now, but I cultivate it as best I can.”

“You cultivate them yourself?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I got into horticulture in high school, I’m very multifaceted.”

“Of course, I should have known.”

There was a beat of silence before Harley spoke again. “I was actually going to come see you tomorrow.”

Peter hummed.

“I have your book here to remind me. I finished it yesterday.” He reached under the counter and pulled out the familiar cover.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

“You know what? I did.”

“Good. I’m glad. I’d like to hear your thoughts when you get the time.”

Harley paused, having started to hold the book out to Peter. “Are you doing anything for the rest of the day?”

“I can’t say I have any plans.”

“How’d you like to spend the rest of your afternoon with me? I’d like to show you the greenhouse, and we can talk about the book while we walk.”

He felt butterflies bloom in his stomach. “Okay.”

“Okay. Let me put up the closed sign and lock the door and we’ll be good to go.” A pair of keys jingled, and Harley made his way back where Peter had come from. Fortunately, Harley actually knew the layout of the building and was back with Peter within a couple minutes. “Right, onwards and upwards, shall we?”

This time, Harley held out his hand without the book.

Peter took it without hesitation. “Alright.”

“Prepare to be amazed.” Harley led him towards another door and opened it with a flourish.

“Holy cow.” Peter was, in fact, amazed.

Rows upon rows of greenery sprawled through the space. Harley started walking them through the nearest section, pointing out unique details about the plants, even while he was talking about the book.

“I mean, I get it, walking into a GSA meeting is like being branded, but did they have to make them all art kids? Come on, I want some queer STEM representation- oh, check out these marigolds, they really came into bloom this year- some queer STEM representation in these stories, you know?”

“Congratulations, you just became my favorite person,” Peter said. “What are those?”

“Those would be Cécile Brunner roses. They’re a variety of climbing roses, some of my favorites.”

“But they’re so small.”

“Yeah. Supposedly they’re popular because they’re tea roses, but honestly their biggest selling point is that they’re easy on the allergies.”

“No kidding? And I need to know, what did you think about the meddling art girls?”

“Listen okay, my sister was an art kid, I love her to pieces, but I was so ready to fight them. Shipping real people is honestly annoying, and they were awful about it.”

“Right? One of my best friends was an art kid, and she would pull inspiration from real life, mostly with character design, but she would never make up stories that could genuinely hurt them.”

“I get that. I’m glad it ended well, but god, what a book.”

“That's why it’s my favorite.”

They came to a set of barn doors at the far end of the greenhouse. “I know I said you would be amazed by this, but behind these doors is the real attraction. I don’t take most people back here, but I think you’ve earned it.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, you showed me one of your favorite things, it’s only fair I return the favor. You ready?”

“Sure.”

Harley pushed down on the handles, and the doors opened outward into a field of roses.

The sight took his breath away. A field of roses under golden hour sunlight was more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen before.

He walked out slowly, spinning in a circle until he was facing Harley again.

“Incredible, right?” Harley grinned.

“I don’t know what to say,” Peter laughed giddily.

“Wanna run through them?”

“What?”

“You’re telling me you’ve never thought about running through a field before?”

“Not really? There weren’t many fields where I grew up.”

“Then you’re missing out, city boy.” Harley grabbed his hand again and started walking them towards the lip of the valley. “Ready?”

“For what?”

And then Harley took off.

Peter was admittedly not the most athletic kid growing up, but when he grew out of his asthma, he wasn’t a terrible runner.

That being said, unfamiliar terrain plus not being prepared to run so suddenly had him tripping over his own two feet moments later and pitching into Harley, causing them both to roll down the rest of the hill.

When they finally came to a stop, Harley was somehow underneath him, and their noses were almost touching. They were both smiling and laughing like idiots, and Peter couldn’t believe how happy he was. He hadn’t felt like this since…

Since…

He couldn’t remember.

“We should get coffee sometime,” he rushed out, just so he wouldn’t lose his nerve.

“Bring another one of your favorite books and it’s a date,” Harley said.

A date. Yeah, he could go on a date.

~~~

They went on more than one date. Six to be exact.

Well, they were on the six one now.

Harley asked him to go on a picnic on one of the hills that overlooks the town, and Peter brought along a book to read after they ate.

It was actually the same book he brought on their second date. Harley took one look at the length of The Hobbit and was immediately doubtful that he would like it, but Peter offered to read it to him instead.

On their third date, Harley came into the bookstore while Peter was working and brought him coffee. He got him to sit down for the first time all day by asking Peter to read to him.

Peter put up a sign to say they were hiring that same day.

A couple of people had interviewed, but he still had to be in the shop with any new hires for the first little bit, which meant they were doing this on his day off.

In Rose Hill, almost everywhere was closed on Monday, so Peter followed suit. It meant he could do this. Here. With Harley. The man who was perfectly content to lay his head down in his lap and listen to him read.

God, what a life.

He was describing Mirkwood when Harley tapped his hand.

“Take a break?”

“Sure. Everything okay?”

“Yeah I can just feel myself zoning out and I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Okay.” Peter bookmarked the page and set it off to the side before bringing his hands back to play with Harley’s hair. “You like it though?”

“Love it.”

“My uncle read it to me when I was a kid. I think it’s better if it’s read to you.”

It was rare that he volunteered personal information, but in moments like these, it felt natural.

“Was coming to Tennessee like an adventure for you? I know you ain’t from here, but I hope it suits you fine.”

He thought about it for a moment. “It was a bit of an adventure, yeah. Might qualify more as a quest in Tolkien’s eyes, but for all intents and purposes, adventure works.”

“You never talk about how you ended up here,” Harley noticed. “This is a far cry from any city I’ve been to.”

“I needed a change of pace. Cities are loud and packed and there’s too many people who might know too much. So I came here.”

Harley sat up slowly, untangling Peter’s hands from his head as he went. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but what were you running from?”

Peter stayed silent.

“You’re safe here, you know,” Harley told him. “Half this town would defend you in a heartbeat, and lord knows I’m with them. You never have to tell me what you went through, but I know you’ve been hurt, and whoever did it must have done something awful to you.”

“That obvious huh?” Peter sniffed.

“Only to someone who knows something about pain.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment, but Peter felt something come undone in his chest.

“I want this, you know. Us.”

He nodded, waiting for Peter to continue.

“The person who hurt me made me scared to ever want a relationship ever again. I know we’ve been going slow, and I’m sorry-”

“Hey,” Harley interrupted. “I’m okay with slow. Slow is good.”

Peter gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

“This goes only as far as you want it to go,” Harley told him. “If you want to just hang out like this, me nearly falling asleep on your lap on a grassy hilltop, then I’ll be perfectly happy.”

He could control their pace. Harley was willingly giving that power to Peter, seemingly with no intention of using it against him later.

“And if I ever want to take it further?”

“Then I’ll follow your lead.”

“If I want to kiss you?”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

The butterflies in his stomach were turning into birds. His eyes flitted down to Harley’s lips.

“I think so.”

“Alright. Consider this an open invitation to kiss me then.”

Peter reached up and caressed Harley’s cheek, using what little leverage he had to pull him closer and bringing their lips together gently. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but Harley kept his hands to his sides and let Peter have complete control.

It was more like breathing than it was kissing.

He pulled away slowly, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did.

Harley was smiling. “Do you want to be done reading for the day, or do you want to keep going?” he asked.

“My voice is a little scratchy, I won’t lie,” Peter said. “I can help you pack up and walk with you to the road.”

“That’d be nice, thanks.”

They finished packing up, and Peter held out his hand for Harley to take. He wound their fingers together, and they began their descent.

Once they reached the base of the hill, Peter was hesitant to let go, but Harley squeezed his hand tighter and raised it to his lips.

“What do you say about taking a long lunch on Friday? We can get lunch at the coffee shop, you can keep reading if you’re up to it. I want to know what happens next.”

“It’s a date,” Peter said.

Harley placed a light kiss on his hand before he had to drop it so they could go their separate ways.

“I mean it by the way. You’re in control here,” he said. “If I ever do something to hurt you, say the word and I’ll stop immediately, no questions asked.”

Peter nodded and thanked him before turning back towards town.

The dart he threw at that map must have been really lucky.

~~~

It shouldn’t have surprised Peter that Harley meant what he said. He really did let Peter control the pace.

Not to say they didn’t take it up a notch. Peter let Harley take him out to dinner, no books between them, and at the end of the night, Harley walked him home and kissed him at his door.

“A true gentleman,” Peter laughed.

“Mhmm. This is how we do courtship here in Tennessee.”

“Courtship huh?”

“If you have me.”

“Keep this up, and I just might.” Peter kissed him one last time. “Goodnight Harley.”

“Goodnight Peter. I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

Peter waved him off, unlocked his door, and walked up the stairs to his apartment. He always stayed close by a window, just to watch Harley walk down the street, and to see if anything else might happen. It never did, but it didn’t hurt to make sure.

A fact that was reinforced a few days later during his weekly phone call with Tony.

“Peter, he paces around outside your old apartment building and around SI. It’s not obvious to anyone who’s not looking, but he thinks you’re hiding here.”

“It’s been over a year,” Peter whispered brokenly. “Why won’t he give up?”

“I don’t know, kiddo. I know you didn’t want to, but I really think we should open a case on him.”

“But that statute of limitations-”

“Won’t have any impact on this if he’s still stalking you, which we have proof of. You have witnesses ready to speak for you, all we need is concrete evidence from you.”

Peter took a deep breath. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next. “What do I need to do?”

“I need your permission to go through your old phone.”

“You’re not going to like what you see.”

“I know. We’re going to go through it with a lawyer present, but I need you to know we won’t judge you for whatever we find. Please just say yes, Peter. We miss you, and I would imagine you miss New York.”

“It’s not so bad here,” he said weakly. “Honestly I would be fine with staying, but maybe I can come visit New York on weekends.”

“Is that a yes?” Tony sounded hopeful.

Maybe it was time.

He was ready. “Yes it is.”

~~~

There was no word on the matter for another couple of weeks. Then Peter got a call in the middle of a work day.

Pen and Paper was hosting an event to encourage people to read, and Peter was reading to a circle of small children when his phone rang.

Hardly anyone knew his number so he knew it must be urgent. He handed the book off to Harley who picked up where he left off seamlessly.

“Hello?”

“He’s in custody. The police picked him up this morning.”

“What?”

“You ex. He’s done. The case goes to trial in a month, and not even I could make the bail they set for him.”

“You’re joking.”

“I would never joke about this. I’ll fill you in on the details next time we talk, but I thought you should know.” He could hear Tony’s relief loud and clear through the phone.

“Okay. Okay. This is… a lot. Thank you for letting me know.”

He hung up and looked over at Harley who shot him a worried glance, but never faltered in his reading. It was amazing to see the same boy who’d walked into this same shop just a few months ago confused, now perfectly at home, and even contributing to the bookstore.

Peter never wanted to let him go. He studied his posture, how animated he got when he became a character, and Peter understood what it was like to fall in love with reading all over again.

Harley could take it from there. Peter was feeling restless after he got the news, so he decided to make himself busy elsewhere just to give himself something to do.

Nearing the end of the day, business slowed until it was only him and Harley in the shop.

“What do you say you close early today? I think we can finish the last couple chapters of The Hobbit before it gets too late. Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

They’d gotten a little held up on finishing it, but now that they were almost done, Peter couldn’t wait to reach the end. Plus Harley was right, he was on edge, and reading one of his favorite books would help.

“Sure. Go sit and I’ll meet you over there in just a minute once I find it.”

“Way ahead of you.” Harley held up the book. “I was really hoping you’d say yes.”

“Dork,” Peter snorted, letting Harley pull him onto a couch.

“Hey now, let’s remember who introduced this book to who,” Harley pointed out.

“Whatever. Hush, let me read.”

“Oh no, don’t let me get in your way.”

Peter stuck his tongue out at him, but started reading nonetheless.

By the time they finished the book, it was nearly dark.

They sat in silence for a while, letting the ending settle over them, but Harley moved under him.

“I should get home,” he said, not making much of an effort to get up. “Maybe you can start thinking about the next book we’ll read?”

“As much as I want to keep reading Lord of the Rings, I kind of want you to read the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy first.”

“You’re the bookkeeper,” Harley teased, dropping a light kiss on the top of his head. “I really should get going though. I walked here, and the sun is about to set.”

He was safe. Peter was safe. He didn’t need to be worried about going out at night anymore.

“Let me walk you back?” he asked.

Harley’s reaction was instantaneous. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” Peter reassured him. “Please?”

“Okay,” he smiled.

It was infectious. Peter smiled back. “Let me get my keys and we can head out.”

When he was grabbing his keys from behind the desk, he put the book away and checked Data’s water bowl. Satisfied that there was nothing left to do, he turned off the lights and met Harley at the door.

He locked the door behind them, and found Harley’s hand to hold. “Lead the way.”

“If it were later I’d point out all the constellations to you,” Harley told him as they walked. “You can see a couple peeking over the horizon, but it’s hard to tell what they are yet.”

“We’ll have to go stargazing one of these nights,” Peter responded. “I’ve never been.”

“Oh, you’re missing out,” Harley emphasized. “There’s a great spot out near where my mom lives that’s amazing for stargazing. Almost no light from the city gets in your way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

As they walked, Harley would tell him about memories from his childhood, and it struck Peter, not for the first time, how different his life was growing up.

Finally, they reached a quaint house on the outskirts of town, and Harley drew to a stop.

“This is me,” he motioned to the house. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Peter wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do here, so he leaned up and gave Harley a light kiss.

Harley took a sharp breath in. “Do you want to come in?”

Such a simple question, yet Peter almost couldn’t answer without his words shaking. “I would love to.”

He turned to unlock the door. This was Peter’s last chance to run.

No. Harley is good. Harley is safe. He can do this now.

“It’s not much, but it’s just me here.” Harley flipped on the lights and waved Peter inside.

There was a vase of odd flowers on his table, the rejects he couldn’t sell, Peter knew. The art on the walls are all done by his sister who moved to the city, but comes back to Rose Hill a few times a year to visit.

It’s lived in, comfortable, and all too much like Harley.

“It’s nice,” Peter said. “Better than any apartment I’ve ever lived in.”

Harley snorted. “I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“Definitely a compliment,” Peter assured him.

“Good.” They stood staring at each other for a moment before Harley snapped to attention. “The living room is through there if you want to make yourself at home. Can I get you anything to drink? There’s coffee, apple juice, water? I might have a bottle of wine from the last time I had my mom over, but I don’t like the stuff. Gives me a headache. Oh god, that made me sound old, didn’t it?”

Peter laughed. “Only a little bit. Plus I don’t drink, so I’m alright for now.”

“Just let me know if you want anything,” he said, dropping onto the couch next to Peter. “So…”

“So…” Peter mocked. “You never told me if you liked the book or not. I want your thoughts.”

“What can I say?” he asked. “I loved it. Really and truly, I’m so glad you read it to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harley confirmed. “Maybe it’s your voice, or the way your body language changes subtly when you speak for different characters, but I’ve never read a book like it.”

“I’m glad,” he said softly. “I like being able to share my favorite books with people.”

“I’ll have to find something I can share with you. How do you feel about getting flowers every week?”

Peter’s breath hitched. “I’d love that, but you don’t need to. All I ever want is to spend time with you.”

Harley brushed a thumb over his knuckles. “I want to do things like that for you, but because I have to, but because I like seeing you smile. I’ll never forget the look on your face the first time you saw the rose field, and if I have to spend the rest of our time together trying to make you feel like that again, then I will.”

He had no words. There was nothing he could say that would adequately describe how he felt, so he pulled Harley into a deep kiss.

It was messy, and Peter suspected that he was crying a little bit, but when Harley gripped at his hips, his mind blanked, and he moved to straddle him.

His new position made it easier to deepen the kiss. It always amazed him how warm Harley was, almost like years of being outdoors had a permanent effect on his internal temperature.

Harley’s hands were still on his hips, just resting there instead of grabbing at anywhere he could reach.

“This okay?” he asked, leaving a trail of wet kisses down Harley’s neck.

“God fuck, Peter, yes,” Harley moaned as he ground down on him. “Baby, please-”

“Show me. Show me what else you want.”

“We gotta find a bed before we have that conversation,” Harley panted. “Can I take you to bed?”

If only because Peter didn’t want to stop kissing him, he said yes, and stepped backwards so Harley could lead him towards the room.

“We don’t have to go any further than this if you don’t want to,” Harley reminded him. “If you just want to keep making out, that’s fine, but a bed would be more comfortable either way”

Peter pulled him into another long kiss, and Harley groaned. “Bed,” he said. “Bed sounds good.”

“Amazing.” Harley tugged on his hand, and they stumbled through the house until he managed to get his bedroom door open.

“How- how is this going to work?” Peter asked, suddenly nervous.

“However you want it to,” Harley reminded him. “What’s gonna make you most comfortable?”

“Making out with you while wearing jeans feels wrong, but I don’t want- I don’t want to-”

“So then we don’t,” Harley shrugged. “You’re wearing boxers or something, right? I’ll just keep my hands above your waist.”

He stood back and stared at him. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am. If you’re uncomfortable, we can stop at any time. I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“Incredible,” Peter breathed. “You’re incredible.” He surged in again for a kiss, thumbing at the hem of Harley’s shirt. “Can I see you?”

Harley’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Holy shit. Go for it. I sleep shirtless anyways.”

Taking off his shirt revealed tanned skin and an abundance of freckles. He was warm to the touch.

He’s always warm. Everything that surrounded Peter now was warmth.

It was hard to separate so he could undress himself, but they got there eventually. Harley pulled him down onto the bed, laughing all the while.

Eventually they settled down with no shortage of giggles, and Harley turned to face him.

“You’re beautiful.”

Peter scrunched up his nose at the compliment, but Harley kissed it away. “You can’t seriously tell me you don’t know you’re beautiful. Your voice, your heart, your gorgeous face, all of it.”

He hid his face in Harley’s shoulder. “Shut up,” he muttered.

“Fine, whatever you say. At least let me see you so I can kiss you goodnight.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Peter said, raising his head. Harley rewarded him with a languid kiss that left Peter wanting for more, but his exhaustion was winning out.

“Goodnight, angel,” he said with a yawn, turning so he wouldn’t accidentally elbow Harley in the night.

“Night, sweetheart,” Harley returned, letting Peter determine their closeness, and positioning himself accordingly when he was settled.

Peter drifted off to sleep easily, happy with where he ended up.

~~~

When he woke up the next morning, still tangled in Harley’s sheets, he realized that was the best he’d slept in a long time. The man whose bed he was in was still soundly asleep, just barely illuminated by the cold, dawn sunlight. He studied him for a moment, admiring how his hair draped across his forehead and how his lips were slightly parted as he breathed.

Harley’s arm was draped over his waist, but it wasn’t holding him there. He could get up and leave if he wanted to.

It shocked him a little to realize that he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay here with Harley, at least for a little while longer.

The world could wait a little while longer for Peter Parker to get out of bed.

~~~

A few weeks later, Tony called him again.

“I’m not saying you have to, but we’d like you to come testify.”

“Would it help?”

“Almost definitely. We could probably nail him without you there, but it couldn’t hurt.”

He thought of what his ex would say if he wasn’t there.

‘Coward!’

‘Couldn’t stand up to me when we were together, why should you be able to now?’

‘I should have double checked that the windows were locked that night, then none of this would have happened!’

“When?”

“The trial is next week. How soon could you get here?”

Peter made a mental checklist of everything he would need to do before he left. He could leave with the couple of employees that had a solid handle on things, and Adora would probably be willing to take Data for a bit. The last person he had to worry about was Harley.

“Give me a couple days. I’ll need some help getting back to New York.”

Even with all the preparations made and safety measures taken, he knew he wouldn’t fully be able to relax until a guilty verdict was read and his ex was sentenced months later.

~~~

All said and done, he wasn’t able to get back to Rose Hill for almost three months. Three months away from his bookstore, his cat, his favorite coffee shop.

His Harley.

As much as he loved New York, something about the small town had grown on him.

“You want to go back?” Tony asked, stunned. “I thought you wanted to be in New York.”

He considered this for a moment. “I think in the beginning I did, but I built a life in Tennessee, and it’s time I got back to it. At least I can come visit now. We were fighting for my freedom, not just so I could go back to how it was before. Nothing is going to be the same now.”

Tony sighed. “Have you talked to May?”

“She had about the same reaction you did, but I got her to cave.”

“Will you at least let us take you back down? I want to see that bookstore of yours.”

“Yes, you can come down with me. I think you’d like it there.” Peter rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“I don’t know either, but I love you kiddo.”

“Love you too, Tony.”

He cleared his throat. “How soon do you want to be out of here? I can have the plane ready to go first thing in the morning if you want.”

“I’d rather drive, actually,” Peter told him. “You can fly in after and I can pick you up from the airport.”

“You really aren’t the same kid you were a few years ago. Good for you. Mind if we drive with you?”

“Not at all,” Peter said. “Not at all.”

~~~

They drove into town on a snowy February day, and Peter pulled into his usual parking spot behind his building. “Let me bring you around front. I have something I need to take care of, but I can leave you in the capable hands that work here.”

Tony ruffled his hair affectionately, and May kissed him on the cheek.

“You don’t have to worry about us,” Tony said confidently.

“I’ll keep him out of trouble,” May told him. “Take your time, honey.”

“Thanks May,” he called as he ran up the stairs to his apartment.

What he was looking for should be around somewhere.

It was on his bookshelf, next to a pen and some sticky notes. He uncapped the pen and got to writing.

Harley,

I never got to thank you. The day I met you, I was captivated by your presence, and I knew I needed to see you again. I found you again through flowers, and I never expected anything else to bloom, but here we are.

The odds of me coming to Rose Hill were slim, but thank God I did. This town means more to me than New York did, and it’s all because of you.

Thank you for leaving this rose on my desk the first time we met. Thank you for letting me share the books I love with you. Thank you for showing me the rose fields. Thank you for being understanding and never pushing me further than I wanted to go.

You made Rose Hill my home, Harley Keener, and I’ll love you forever for that. You made me feel like the boy I was when I was a teenager, while making me a better man.

Yours,

Peter Parker.

The note was written on the inside cover of Fan Art, the dried out rose from the day they met marking the entry.

It took all of his self control not to run all the way to Harley’s. He shouldn’t be working right now, he always took Monday afternoons off. Being the only shop that stayed open on Mondays gave him some leeway in his schedule, so one of his employees would be there in his place.

When he finally reached Harley’s door, he knocked three times. It took a minute for Harley to answer, but when the door flew open, Peter grinned.

“You’re back. You’re really back,” Harley said, clearly out of breath from running to the door.

“I’m back,” Peter confirmed. “I wanted to give this to you.” He held out the object in his hand.

Harley looked between him and the book.

“Does this mean you’re not staying in Rose Hill?” Harley asked carefully.

“Oh, no, I’m staying,” he said. “I just realized I never got to say thank you. Or I love you.”

Harley nodded slowly, setting the book on the end table by his door.

Peter opened his arms and waited. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Harley to launch himself at him, and wrap Peter in the tightest hug he’d ever experienced.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered.

“I know,” Peter said, pulling back to kiss him soundly. “God, I know. These last few months have been hell.”

“At least you could go home,” Harley said.

“That’s true,” Peter admitted. “I’m so glad I’m back.

“But what about the city-”

“I’m not so sure New York is home anymore,” he said. “How about you walk back to town with me? I will say there’s a couple people I want you to meet.”

[p---ink]

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though. 

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems. 

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self) 

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it. 

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.” 

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.” 

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch. 

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared. 

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.” 

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker,  after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath. 

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her. 

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present. 

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered. 

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been. 

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words. 

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep. 

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat. 

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him. 

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case. 

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her.  “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels,  and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since  Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious. 

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain. 

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car. 

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat. 

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable. 

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification. 

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl. 

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question. 

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted. 

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long. 

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt. 

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained. 

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips. 

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing. 

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all. 

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield. 

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her. 

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?” 

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him. 

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one. 

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.  

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous. 

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked. 

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment. 

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes. 

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.” 

“Say please.” He teased. 

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied. 

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him. 

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin. 

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans. 

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties. 

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat. 

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member. 

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down. 

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her. 

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue. 

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there. 

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin. 

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him.  She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips. 

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her. 

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky. 

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her. 

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core. 

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.  

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried. 

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest,  becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better. 

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole. 

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm. 

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her. 

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her. 

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny. 

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence. 

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue. 

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined. 

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window. 

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure. 

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning. 

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried. 

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button. 

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers. 

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say. 

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone. 

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip. 

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life. 

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair. 

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed. 

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake. 

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came. 

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted. 

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat. 

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high. 

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly.  “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.” 

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them. 

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin. 

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare. 

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. 

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?”  She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop. 

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.” 

 A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error. 

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hi I love your writing and say you wanted a peter vday request! I have one how about a vday scavenger hunt type of thing that instead of peter setting it up it's reader for peter! And like at the end it will come down to two choices one leads to her and the other leads to still being friends. Fluffy!

Scavenger Hunt

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” You shouted across the hallway before tackling Peter in a hug.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Peter happily hugged you back. “I have something to give you.”

“I do too.” You grinned nervously. “But I have to go first.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded as he put the valentine in his back pocket.

“Okay, so you know how you have a huge crush on me?” You began.

“What? No I don’t.” He stammered. “That’s crazy. That’s…yeah, why?”

“Well I like you too.” You confessed, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“You do?” He asked as his eyes went wide.

“Yeah.” You said like it was obvious. “But I can’t date someone who can’t be honest about their feelings. So I’m gonna need you to prove to me that you really want to be with me.”

“I do. I really, really do.” He promised. “How can I prove that to you?”

“By going on this scavenger hunt.” You explained as you handed him a red envelope. “If you follow all the steps correctly, you’ll find me at the end. And then I’m yours, Peter. All yours.”

“Okay.” Peter followed along. “What if I mess up?”

“Then we stay friends and pretend this never happened.” You said simply.

“No.” Peter shook his head as he stared at the envelope. “That’s not happening. I’m gonna win this. I’ll find you at the end and give you your Valentine.”

“I hope you do.” You answered honestly. “You have until sunset. Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t.” Peter promised. You smiled softly at him before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Then I’ll see you later.” You winked at him before walking away. As soon as you were gone, Peter opened the envelope to read the first clue.

“You’ll find clue one where we first met. You remembered my name when I thought you’d forget.”

“Science lab!” Peter blurted, earning looks from passing students. He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed, giving them a small smile. He stuffed the envelope in his pocket and rushed to the third floor science lab.

You had first met there when you sat next to him on the first day of school. You sat there again the following week, introducing yourself as if you were meeting for the first time. You had assumed he’d forgetting your name over the weekend, laughing shyly when he told you he remembered it.

Peter opened the door to the lab and saw another red envelope sitting on the back table. He walked over to it and opened it up, hands shaking with anticipation. There was a heart shaped lolly pop sitting next to it, which he unwrapped and popped in his mouth.

“Roses are red, violets are blue. Check your locket for clue number two.”

Peter bolted out of the lab, knocking into a few students as he ran to his locker. He fumbled with the lock before ultimately pulling it off with his super strength. He opened the locker and saw a red envelope taped to the door with his name on it. It was scented like your perfume, as if you sprayed it on there.

“You found me! So here’s clue number three. What’s a little honey without the bee?”

“She’s too cute.” Peter mumbled it himself as he shut his locker. He practically skipped down the hallway as he made his way outside, quickly located the tree you used to sit under to eat your lunch. You stopped sitting there when a bee stung you on your hand, but you had a fond memory of Peter sucking the stinger out.

Peter saw a red envelope taped to the tree and took it, ripping it open to read what was inside. Other than the card, there was a small package of his favorite candy. He began to munch on them as he read the clue.

“Look at you, you found clue four. Schools almost over, so check your front door.”

Peter let out a groan, knowing he had two more periods before he could go home. His leg bounced in anticipation during his classes, shooting out of his seat the second the final bell rang.

Peter ran all the way home but when he got to his apartment, he didn’t see an envelope. He checked both sides of the door and found nothing. He slumped in defeat on the couch, assuming you changed your mind.

“Hey, Peter.” May greeted as she walked into the room. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah.” He mumbled. “I was expecting something.”

“Oh, was it a letter?” May asked, making his perk up. “I found this taped to the door when I got-“

“That’s mine!” Peter shouted in excitement as he took the envelope from May. He tore it open and pulled out the card inside. A Polaroid of you and him fell out, and he quickly picked it up. It was a picture of you biting his cheek while he laughed, one of his favorite pictures.

“I hope the wait for clue five built your anticipation. Clue number six can be found at the train station.”

“I gotta go.” Peter hastily grabbed his bag and went for the door.

“Where are you going?” May called after him, but he was already gone. He swung to the nearest train station and found Ned with a bouquet of roses.

“Ned?” Peter panted once he landed. “What are you doing here?”

“First, these are for you.” Ned handed Peter the flowers. “And so is this.”

Peter took the flowers with a smile before accepting the envelope.

“Clues will be getting harder, so I hope you enjoy the roses. Clue seven is with the models and all their dumb poses.”

“Models?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Ned in confusion.

“Hey man, I’m just the messenger.” Ned shrugged. “She got me a box of chocolates for helping out.

“I think I have an idea.” Peter said as he remembered something. “But if I’m wrong, then we stay friends.”

“You better hope you’re not wrong then.” Ned said, and Peter agreed.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll see you later, man. Hopefully with my girlfriend.”

Peter swung back to Delmars and went inside, going straight to the magazine section. You once stood in front of the magazines with him, flipping through to see who could find the most ridiculous poses the models were in and then doing them. He remembered making you laugh when he mimicked a particularly flexible pose, so he hoped that’s what the clue was alluding to. Peter scanned the magazine section for the red envelope, jumping a little when the store cat jumped on top of the rack. Peter did a double take when he saw you had taped the envelope to the cat, shaking his head at your antics. He carefully removed the tape and looked at the clue inside.

“Our times in Delmars are some of the best I’ve ever had. Now for clue eight, you’ll need someone who’s bad.”

Peter tilted his head in confusion until he flipped the card over, seeing that you wrote, “really, really bad.”

The wheels in his brain started turning and he remembered the song you played him the night you got your drivers license.

“Bad.” He mumbled to himself. “The Michael Jackson song?”

He turned the card over again and suddenly, it clicked.

Bad. Michael Jackson. MJ.

“Thanks for the help.” Peter pet the cat before noticing a wrapped sandwich on the counter with his name written on it. He smiled at the gesture, finally realizing he was starving. He unwrapped it, taking note that it was his usual order, and took a bite. He continued eating it as he went to find MJ.

He hoped she was in he usual spot, perched under the bleachers with a pile of books. Peter nervously checked the time, seeing that he only had two hours until sunset. You said he had to find you before then, and he was worried time was running out. MJ could be anywhere and she wasn’t a fan of answering her phone. He could only hope you allowed time specifically for hunting MJ down.

After checking the local library and realizing he had no idea where MJ lived, Peter felt stuck. He spun around in circles in the middle of the street, unsure of where to go next. The sun would be setting soon and he had no idea how many more clues he needed.

“Hey loser.” MJ appeared out of nowhere with a small smile. “Need some help?”

“MJ?” Peter wondered as he approached her. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“You’ve been spinning in a circle outside my apartment building for the past ten minutes whining my name.” She said flatly. “I figured I should come out.”

“You live here?” Peter asked as he looked up at the building. He realized that he had been there before with you, and must have walked there from muscle memory.

“Yep.” She sounded bored. “Do you want your envelope or not?”

“I do.” He nodded eagerly. “Do you know how many are left?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” MJ yawned as he handed him the envelope. “Oh, and she wanted me to give you this.”

Peter looked up at MJ handed him a watch he recognized.

“My Uncle Ben’s watch?” He asked as he took it from her. “Where did you get this?”

“Like I just said.” MJ said sarcastically. “She wanted me to give it to you.”

“It’s ticking.” He realized with a smile. “It hasn’t worked in years.”

“Yeah, well.” MJ shrugged. “She got it to work. Happy Valentine’s Day or whatever.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, MJ.” Peter smiled in appreciation. “Thank you.”

“Whatever.” She mumbled as he opened the envelope.

“As your watch will show you, time is almost out. For the last clue, you’ll find me at the best place to shout.”

“Best place to shout?” Peter wondered out loud. “Where’s the best place to shout?”

“Well, I would say a protest, but her hopeless romantic ass would probably say something like a rooftop or concert.”

“There are no concerts in the area.” Peter thought hard. “She must mean a rooftop, right? Because when you love someone, you want to shout it from the rooftops.”

“I don’t know.” MJ sighed. “This is the last time I help straight people with anything.”

“I think I know where she is.” Peter decided. “I better hurry. The sun is gonna set soon.”

“Does it look like I’m stopping you?” MJ mumbled as Peter ran away. Once he was out of sight, he swung towards your apartment building and landed on the roof.

You were standing on the roof, next to a small table and chairs. Red candles and pink hearts were on the table, a perfect Valentine’s Day date. Peter walked towards you and put the roses you’d given him in the empty vase before taking in your beauty. You were in a silly red dress with the sun setting behind you.

“You found me.” You smiled softly, gazing at him with pride.

“I did.” He smiled as well as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I followed all your clues.”

“I really thought the Michael Jackson would throw you.” You teased as you stepped closed to him.

“Nothing was gonna throw me.” He said confidently. “I was too determined.”

“I see.” You pulled your lip between your teeth. “Did you like your gifts?”

“Of course I did.” He told you. “This is the best one, though. But the sandwich was a nice touch.”

“I thought you’d like that.” You chuckled.

“Can I give you my Valentine now?” Peter asked, reaching for it in his back pocket.

“Oh, yeah.” You remembered. “Of course.”

Peter handed you heart cut out of red construction paper with glitter and stickers on it. You chuckled at his craftsman’s and slowly opened it up, sequins falling off as you did.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to the most beautiful, creative, and amazing girl I know. You make everyday feel like Valentine’s Day. Ps, I like you. I really, really like you. Love, Peter.” You read out loud, looking up at him in awe. He has a shy blush on his cheeks as you finished reading.

“It’s funny.” You chuckled as you set the card on the table. “You wrote “love Peter” at the end of it.”

“What’s funny about that?” Peter wondered.

“I do.” You smiled shyly. “I do love Peter.”

“I love you too.” Peter grinned before pulling you into a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, getting your red lipstick all over his face. He didn’t mind it, though. He was too happy to mind it. When you pulled away, he pulled your chair out for you so you could sit down at the table. There was sparkly cider already in your glasses and a cupcake on each of your plates.

“Thank you for a perfect Valentine’s Day.” He said as he held up his glass. “I can honestly say this has been the greatest day of my life.”

“Me too, Petey.” You smiled as you clinked your glass against his. “Me too.”

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[darkacademicfrom2021]

A gentlecat.

Summary: A black cat comforts you when you need it the most. Your new friend is quite peculiar for an animal. It's almost like they could understand you.

Pairing: Loki x gender neutral reader (it's not actually a "pairing", you can see it as a friendship, or something platonic).

Word count: 2K.

Warnings: anxiety, sadness.

Disclaimer: picture not mine.

You used to frequent the roof of the compound everytime you were melancholic.

Or everytime you had too many feelings to process and needed time alone. Or anytime you felt too empty and needed to refill on sentiments and life by staring at the moon and remembering how much it means to exist in this world. Or too overwhelmed, and needed to be reminded of how little it all matters, how few are the things that are actually important.

No matter the motive, the roof and the moon were always there with you.

The wind blew on your face, almost like a whisper, almost like a caress. The same wind that blew on a crying child, or a couple of teenagers kissing for the first time, or an old man remembering with gratitude the love of his life. Or a lost young who, just like you, was looking at the moon searching for a meaning. An answer. Why all of this? Why to you? Why to everyone and why everything at the same time?

You inhaled a deep breath as you laid your back against the floor of the terrace, and the only thing you got to see were the few starts pollution would let you, and the gigantic moon smiling at you.

A noise startled you, and you were sitting back up again in no time. Being an avenger made you a little more paranoid than you expected. But you didn't say anything. You looked around nervously and waited for the sound to reappear. And it did.

"Who's there?".

No answer. You heart was pounding, but you didn't let your voice break. A hand flew right to the knife in your thigh, waiting for the danger to appear.

The noise came out of the shadows. A black cat approached you precatiously, almost as if they knew you were a threat. You put your guard down and finally sighed.

"God, little thing, you scared me", you whispered as you put a hand near them to let them smell you and be familiar with you. The cat didn't do so, instead, they sat by your side and rested their head on your hand. "Well, you certainly trust easier than me".

The cat meowed answering you, and you felt a connection to them. You loved animals, but this one was different. It was almost like they could understand your words. You moved your thumb slowly, petting their head. The cat let you, staring at you with intensity. Blueish green eyes that you felt like you knew from somewhere else.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked, and you felt stupid. What life choices had lead you to the point of talking to a black cat on a roof, while everyone else was partying? The cat meowed back again. You chuckled. "So you understand what I say? I'll keep talking, then. Just don't think I'm too crazy". The cat purrowed in your hand, and you took it as a yes.

"I just... I don't like these parties, you know? I don't feel well when there's too many people around me, and all the noise... you'd understand, I think cats are sort of like that, right?". The cat meowed again. You smiled. "I appreciate being here, I really do. But the whole Avengers show we should put up... I don't buy it. We know damn well we're not what we pretend to be". You ranted, and realized immediately after you should've been looking around first. If anyone actually heard you, you'd be in big trouble. You went back to a whisper "but that's our little secret".

The cat slowly walked nearer you and looked at you before sitting in your lap, as to look for approval. You nodded and caressed the fur as they did so.

"Do you have a name?" You asked, looking for a collar. "Weird. A cat so well taken care of like you should have an owner". The cat hissed and you laughed "alright, not an owner. You don't like the expression, I get it. A human partner, maybe?". The cat stared at you again. You wished they could talk, but it was probably better off like that. Maybe you liked animals because they couldn't talk.

"So you're from the streets?".

The cat looked inside the compound and then looked back at you again. You interpreted as if they was asking you why wouldn't you go back. "I can't go in there, I got too anxious and said I was sick". You swear you saw the cat roll their eyes.

"Why are you here?". And you immediately laughed "oh, God. I'm asking questions to a cat. What am I waiting for? An answer? You probably just want food. Wait here, I'm gonna get you some. I'll steal some of Bucky's. He has a cat, too".

You sneaked through the party and nobody noticed you passed by. Once you were back, the cat wasn't there anymore. You left the food in a cup of tea on the floor, just in case they came back, and went back to the compound.

The next time you were on the roof, you weren't running away from any party. It was that same week that you felt increasingly anxious out of nowhere, in the middle of a dinner. After a while you went back to bed and you overheard the asgardian brothers discuss something in a low voice outside your room. Thor wanted to walk in and make sure you were fine; his brother told him he knew you needed space, so you were better off left alone. You wondered how he knew that, and then realized he was like that too.

You basically never spoke to him, but you always shared your silences. Everyone in the Stark Tower was so... enthusiastic. Outgoing. You and Loki enjoyed the silence of the nights over a good book and a warm drink. You barely spoke to each other. You were various meters away, in different parts of the common room (that one with the big couches and old books Mr. Stark set up for the introverts of the group, ahem, you two and ocassionally little Peter Parker). But you were there, always sharing that loneliness you craved in such crazy times.

After a while, you crawled out of bed and rested your arms in the window. You realized there was someone waiting for you in there.

"Hello, friend".

The cat purrowed in your hand. They had a protein bar in their mouth, as to give it to you. You frowned in confusion.

"You know, whatever you are, you don't pretend to be a cat very well". The cat opened their eyes widely, and you laughed. "But thank you. I don't know how you knew I didn't have dinner, but I appreciate this very much".

You opened your window so that they could come in, but they didn't. They looked inside, but stayed in there, as to care for your privacy. "It's fine, you can come in". The cat stayed out, anyways. "I think I'm gonna do some reading. If you care to join me, you're invited".

You and the black cat stayed up all night on the balcony of your room. You read in silence and the cat rested on your lap, purring and staring at you with those big, intense eyes. The night wasn't cold, but refreshing. Windy, before the big rainstorm that would have place next day. You loved that weather.

It wasn't the only occasion you stayed all night with the company of the black cat. Once they already felt comfortable enough to get in your room, you'd both lay in bed, and the cat would curl around your neck, using your shoulders as a mattress.

One dark and rainy afternoon you were on the roof, and the cat was with you, laying on the floor, watching the stars and the moon, just like you. You overheard some of the Avengers talking about you. Clint's voice commenting on how you basically adopted a stray, and Tony laughing. Thor corrected them you befriended a cat, and you chuckled at the offense he took from the word "adopted".

"Don't worry, I befriended you. You seem to be good by yourself", you clarified. The cat meowed.

It got dark and you stayed in the floor until the last light on the compound was turned off. The cat seemed to be curious as why you stayed for so long.

"I want to go to the common room, I haven't been there in a few weeks", you commented. "Best time of the day is when almost everyone's asleep".

At some point of the night you got up and walked through the compound to get to the kitchen. The cat followed your steps, and you swore they knew the way.

You poured some warm milk in a cup for the cat and they waited for you to have your coffee in hand to start sipping. You both sat on the couch of the common room.

"Such a polite gentle...cat", you whispered. "You know, it's so weird this is empty right now. At this time there's someone else reading here". The cat looked at you and you didn't understand what they meant. "I think he would like you. You have sort of the same energy, maybe that's why I even befriended you. Someday, if you let me, I'll introduce you two". The cat nodded weirdly.

You spilled some coffee on your shirt and cursed to yourself. The cat went to the counter and grabbed a napkin for you. At that point, they didn't even pretend to act like a cat at all.

"Ah, thank you". As you cleaned yourself, the cat looked at the book you were reading. It was in old norse. The cat looked at you with interrogative eyes. "Ah, that's... stupid, actually. I'm a little embarrassed I'm even doing that". The cat sat infront of you, and you felt like it was a way to ask you for more. You felt free to elaborate.

"This man... well, not a man. There's someone in this compound I never speak to, yet I still feel very connected to, you know? And everytime we're reading together, he reads these very dusty and heavy books in old norse. I didn't know that language, of course. But I was always curious to see what he read. You know, he can spend all night up reading those pages; he's so concentrated he doesn't notice his expressions. But they're great. He smiles, and frowns, and sighs. And I don't think he's aware of that, but I find it so beautiful", you explained. The cat kept looking at you with their eyes wide open. You sighed and continued. "Anyways. I just... I wanted to see a bit more of him. I'm too... shy, I guess? To actually talk to him. In fact, I feel a little intimidated, he's tall, and has some darkness in his eyes, and... well, he's a God. But I'd... I don't know. I learnt old norse and I started reading these books. And I feel like I understand him a little more. Even a little".

The cat looked down a bit and made themself a ball of fur in your lap. You kept reading. They rested their head in your arm and stared at the book as you read, as if they were reading it too.

When you woke up, you were in that same couch. The cat was nowhere to be found. You had a blanket over you, the book was closed over the coffee table, and your shoes were off. You felt weirdly safe. Anonymously taken care of.

You heard noises in the room next door -the kitchen-, and you peeped in. The God of Mischief was in there, making two cups of coffee. He turned around as he heard you walk in, and handed you one cup.

"Góðan morgin", he said. It meant good morning. You swear you saw a little smile forming in the corners of his mouth.

[farfromharry]

The one with the realisation | Peter’s girl

Summary: After Liz leaves due to her dad’s trial, Peter realises maybe his crush on her wasn’t as serious as he thought it was, and maybe he’s actually in love with someone else instead.

Word count - 1107

Warnings - langauge probably

A/n - this is the last part of the series that’s based on homecoming!! everything after this is far from home related <3

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The weeks after homecoming were strange for most people. Everything was more or less changing as you knew it, what with all the alien stuff from the battle of New York resurfacing. Now that you were older you could better comprehend what it all meant, and you didn’t know how you were going to handle it all.

After Peter told you about Liz’s dad, he didn’t happen to tell you he’d also planted the man in a position for him to be taken into custody by Happy. You had to find that part out on the news like the rest of midtown. So, when the news was all that was talked about around school, things began getting awkward for Liz.

It didn’t take long for her mom to decide they weren’t going to stay in the city while her dad was on trial, so you had to say goodbye. You didn’t think her leaving would affect you too badly, it’s not like the two of you were best friends, but over the years you had begun to like her more than you did when you first met.

You didn’t say much to her before she was pulling you into a friendly hug. She felt like she owed you something from the time you and Mj spent with her during homecoming, even if she didn’t show how thankful she was during the moment. She mumbled her thanks into your ear, asking if you would be so kind to tell Mj too for her. You simply nodded, letting her know that you would.

“It’ll be strange without you,” you told her, squeezing her a little tighter before pulling away.

“It’ll be strange not being here,” she commented. You saw her eyes flicker over your shoulder for a split second and you were alerted of another presence by the sound of footsteps approaching behind you, looking over your shoulder to see none other than Peter Parker timidly rocking on his feet. You gave a final squeeze to Liz’s hand as a sign for good luck before turning to leave.

“I’ll let you two talk,” you said, flashing Liz a tight lipped smile as Peter shyly approached. You didn’t wait around to listen to their conversation, you were sure Liz was still pretty mad at Peter and if her dad had told her anything of what happened then she was only going to be even more furious. You didn’t feel like listening to your friend get yelled at.

You instead headed in the direction of the library, small flutters in your stomach at the thoughts of the book in your bag that had been kindly lended to you by the curly haired brunette girl. You found a lone table in the corner, perching yourself on one of the chairs that didn’t have a view of the rest of the room so you wouldn’t keep getting distracted by people coming and going.

You don’t know how long had passed between your conversation with Liz, and Peter finding you sitting by yourself in the library.

Your position meant you didn’t notice him at first, and you were too engrossed in the story in front of you to even begin to acknowledge the teenage boy anyway. He tried clearing his throat to gain your attention, but all that got him was an intense glare from the librarian. Apparently you shut out the entire world when you’re reading.

He took a seat next to you at the table, bringing his hand up to rest on your shoulder in hopes of shaking you out of your book trance.

“Y/N?” Peter asked. You startled for a second, raising your head from where your nose was buried in the many pages of the book, reading over some of the tiny annotations and comments Mj had added while reading. “I-I think I was wrong about my feelings for Liz.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, folding over the corner of your page and setting it down on the library table so he could have your full attention. “What do you mean?”

There were a few beats of silence until he opened his mouth to explain. “Talking to her today I just, I didn’t feel sad she was leaving.”

You rolled your eyes. “Probably because her dad tried to kill you, Pete.”

“No, no. I-I think I’ve been in love with someone else this whole time.” Your heart momentarily skipped a beat. Flashes of Peter admitting his feelings for you on the spot passed by your thoughts, but there was no way the same shy Peter Parker you’d known most of your life could ever be so bold. “I-I think I’m in love with Mj.”

You honestly thought he was joking. This apparent ‘love’ had come out of nowhere. No signs that he liked her or anything, all you were aware of was the way she felt about him.

“How? Where did this come from?” you asked, too many thoughts swirling around your mind. Too many questions to be asked in too little time. “Pete, you barely even know her.”

You loved that Peter trusted you enough to open up about his secrets and his feelings, but you really didn’t appreciate constantly having to pretend your own feelings didn’t exist; with him, with Mj, it was exhausting.

“I was just thinking last night and- I think she’s really pretty, and she’s really funny when I have talked to her and-“ He stopped talking when he realised there was nothing else for him to list off, proving how little he knew about her. “And I just really like her.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea. At all,” you told him honestly. The boy seemed to take that harshly. Whether he was just in denial so he grew defensive, or if it was because he had a tough few days, he really didn’t like your discouragement.

“Why? Are you, like, weirdly in love with me or something?” You nearly verbally gasped at his sudden hostility, the boy standing rather hastily from the chair he’d taken beside you. You weren’t sure Peter was aware of the weight of his words, he just snapped and would most likely be calling you to apologise later tonight. He might even pay you a visit during patrol if he feels guilty enough.

“Peter-“ you tried, only to be cut off by him storming out of the room like a stroppy toddler. You were then left on your own to try and hide from the prying eyes that had just witnessed the brunette's small outburst. You muttered quietly to yourself, tone laced with sarcasm. “Well that went well.”

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peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby @whoeveniskendall @itsallyscorner @hoodpankow @sunwardsss @hallecarey1 @writingrem @lovehollandy12 @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @prancerrparkerr @rqmanoff

[traincat]

I’ve been trying to piece together a few things from your Twitter and Tumblr posts alike and still can’t make heads or tales of things, so would you mind helping out a FF & spideytorch noob? 1) what is currently happening with Johnny in the comics? (I’ve fallen head over heels for this guy, largely all your doing) 2) when’s the last time he and Peter have interacted, canon wise? (And do you think upcoming interactions are likely?) 3) your thoughts on if they’ll have him come out in the near future? (has that ‘biggest change to the fantastic four’ teaser come to pass yet?) Love all your content, thank you!

I'd say no problem but then I started thinking about this current run again and got a headache. But yes, I can do that to save you from reading it, because it is very largely not good.

So I don't think it's unfair to just flat out say the current Fantastic Four run is not very good, largely due to writer Dan Slott's efforts. Slott was previously on Amazing Spider-Man for 10 years, to mixed opinions, but a large portion of Spider-Man fandom, myself included, blames him near singlehandedly for the decline in quality of Spider-Man books over those ten years. I will say, in the interest of fairness, that Slott as a writer has an incredible fondness for the Spider-Man/Human Torch relationship, and that a lot of the recent teamups and interactions between them have been written or co-written by him. So it's all not all negative here. But in general, I personally find Slott's more recent comics (the last seven-ish years especially) to be badly plotted out, messily characterized disasters that feature characters written with all the emotion of a cardboard cutout. That's me putting it nicely.

To explain this fully, you have to understand the position Fantastic Four comics were in from the years 2015 through 2018, both in the fictional 616 universe and in the real publishing world. Following the 2015 Secret Wars event (great if you want some Johnny angst in the background of your plot), the Fantastic Four were disbanded -- Reed, Sue, and their many biological and found family children were presumed dead but in reality were remaking the multiverse, unable, for a reason that was never clearly defined, to reach home. Ben and Johnny were left on Earth. They had an unspecified falling out, likely due to Reed and Sue's absence, and went their separate ways -- Ben joined the Guardians of the Galaxy and went to space. Johnny was featured on both Inhumans and Avengers books. What's notable about this period is that it's the first time since 1961 that there was no Fantastic Four book being published by Marvel. Now the real world reason behind this is both complicated and extremely petty: Marvel really wanted the Fantastic Four film rights. Marvel denied this explanation at the time, stating that the reason was sales motivated, but it was a thoroughly flimsy excuse and Jonathan Hickman, writer of 2015's Secret Wars and overseer of the current X-Men plot, gave an interview saying the decision was film rights motivated. This decision kept the Fantastic Four books off the shelves for three years, up until the Disney-Fox merger, which secured the X-Men and Fantastic Four rights for Disney's Marvel Studios. Marvel then announced that the Fantastic Four book would be returning. So that's a little bit of background as to the precarious place the Fantastic Four currently occupy in the Marvel universe -- it's worth noting that this year is their 60th anniversary, and Marvel has done very little for it. Compare this to the X-Men, whose film rights Marvel also obtained during the Disney-Fox merger, and whose books are currently dominating the publishing lineup. The Fantastic Four definitely occupy an unpopular position, one Marvel themselves is at least partially responsible for forcing them into.

But to move back into the actual content of the book -- the readjustment period Slott wrote reintroducing the Fantastic Four into the Marvel universe can be described as clumsy, at best. It's never fully explained why Reed, Sue, and the kids couldn't return to Earth, something that was explored in Chip Zdarsky's 2017 Marvel Two-in-One, which featured Ben, Johnny, and Doom on a multiversal roadtrip to try and find their family and which I on the whole recommend, despite it having an awkward ending due to being cut short by Slott's announced Fantastic Four main title.

(Marvel Two-in-One 2017 #4)

Instead, the Fantastic Four return to a Marvel universe a little different than how they left it, with the Baxter Building -- formerly the offices of Parker Industries, the company Doc Ock started in Peter's body during Superior Spider-Man that Peter inherited after his defeat and then lost spectacularly when he trashed his own company to fight nazis (good for him) -- occupied by a different fantastic foursome in a plot that goes nowhere and does nothing. This is somewhat emblematic of the early days of Slott's run -- he introduces ideas that fail to go anywhere, including Johnny's rekindled relationship with his other best friend and former college roommate, Wyatt Wingfoot, who he was seen being very cuddly with in the early issues.

(FF 2018 #1) A small group of Fantastic Four fans have argued for a while that if Marvel was to have Johnny come out, a relationship with Wyatt would feel very natural -- they're already close, with Wyatt being an important Fantastic Four supporting character since the '60s. I have some further analysis here on the conspiracy theory that Johnny and Wyatt were supposed to be in relationship at the beginning of this run but that that plot was, for whatever reason, nixed. I don't know that I entirely believe this theory, for the record -- but I do think the pieces line up remarkably well.

Anyway, that didn't/hasn't yet happened, obviously. Slott instead for the most part put Johnny on the back burner for the beginning of his run, up until the Spyre arc, which I have reason to believe is the main story he pitched that he credits with securing him the Fantastic Four title. The Spyre arc suggests that the Fantastic Four's failed space exploration during which they got their powers wasn't just to beat the commies to the moon, as Lee and Kirby envisioned (simpler days), but to reach a specific planet outside of our galaxy. When the team sets out to conquer this mission, they arrive at the planet, but are quickly captured. The planet, they find out, operates like a soulmate AU -- everyone has a fated person that they are matched to via a gold armband. Reed and Sue are soulmates (and Ben is confined to an underground subterranean with the other monsters, because this is a Fantastic Four comic) while it's discovered! Shocker! That Johnny is actually the soulmate of the one the planet's inhabitants, a winged woman named Sky, with the suggestion that this is both why Johnny's previous relationships have never worked and why he loves space exploration -- he was just trying to get to his Soulmate TM.

(FF 2018 #15) "What's going on here? Where are my clothes?" As you can see, this didn't start off super great, with Johnny being separated from his family, stripped naked, and put in Sky's bed with a soulmate armband slapped on him. Did I mention they're only removable if your soulmate takes it off for you? And that Sky has consistently refused despite Johnny asking her to? Yeah. It's bad. (I think it's important to note Johnny's long history as a victim of assault plays into this narrative, whether or not Slott is personally holding that in mind while writing, which I don't believe he is. cw in the linked post for discussions of sexual assault.) There's an additional issue here in that Slott has a history of problematic writing regarding women of color, featuring characters he's created to act as love interests being oversexualized, infantilized, villainized, or some mix of all three, with two examples of this phenomena being Cindy Moon and Lian Tang, both of whom he introduced in quick succession in Amazing Spider-Man. Slott certainly didn't have to write Sky as manipulative or controlling towards Johnny, but that's what he chose to do, and that factors into the bigger picture of unfortunate themes in his writing.

Sky returns to Earth with the Fantastic Four despite Johnny appearing unenthused about the idea and initially generally reluctant to interact with her. Apparently they went on a few dates after this and kind of made up. I don't know because I stopped reading for about ten issues in there but I feel confident I missed very little. It's hard to talk about the Sky plot without referencing Johnny's previous interactions with a character named Lyja, a Skrull whose relationship to Johnny I have a long breakdown of here. It's doubly hard, because Lyja actually showed back up in Fantastic Four during this plot. Lyja's modus operandi has remained consistent throughout almost all of her appearances, which I guess makes sense, because she literally has no storylines that do not involve her being obsessed with Johnny, and this recent story isn't any different: Lyja shows up, Lyja disguises herself as another woman in Johnny's life to get close to Johnny, Lyja gets caught and claims it was all fine because she did it for love. This time she disguised herself as Sky.

(FF 2018 #32) Not gonna lie, kind of proud of him for this one. That's one of my problems with Slott -- very occasionally, he busts out good moments, only to undermine them with the rest of his narrative.

In the same issue, Alicia Masters, the first woman Lyja impersonated in order to get close to Johnny, uses her supervillain stepfather's radioactive clay to control Lyja's mind and send her back to space, and I do think she utilized girl power when she did this. Johnny, left reeling after Lyja's latest attempts to trick him into a relationship, ends this issue by sleeping with Victorious, Dr. Doom's right hand woman.

I know she pegged him. I know it. This scene was a little controversial in Johnny fandom, because a lot of people viewed it as Johnny cheating on Sky and thought that that action was out of character for Johnny. I'm personally of a little different opinion, which is that regardless of whether or not you view Johnny and Sky in a committed enough relationship that Johnny's tryst would count as infidelity when all Johnny and Sky are bound by are magic plot soulmate bracelets, I think Lyja's involvement changes things significantly when it comes to Johnny's characterization. All of Johnny's "playboy" periods, if we can call them that, coincide directly with Lyja having been in and then left his life again, which I think makes a certain amount of sense -- it's Johnny trying to wrest control back after a situation where he had none. None of this is explicitly canon, I have to note, but sometimes in comics you have to do the work yourself. So I think this is a case of something being accidentally extremely in character that Slott accidentally stumbled into because he had these love triangles in mind, not because he put a lot of thought into it.

Speaking of love triangles! Johnny sleeping with Victorious gets more complicated when Dr. Doom announces his intent to marry Victorious -- not because he has any romantic interest in her (this engagement caused a lot of uproar in Fantastic Four because Victorious had been previously referred to as being like Doom's adopted daughter) but in order to install her as Latverian regent in his absence. I'm not going to lie, I love a political wedding. Victorious, for some reason, thinks Doom will be deeply upset that she slept with some closeted blond twink and the member of the Fantastic Four he views least as an enemy and more as an annoyance. Johnny, who Sky is currently not talking to because she "felt" him sleeping with Victorious through their magic plot soulmate bracelets, also feels nervous about Doom finding out about this, which I guess is slightly more valid. Anyway, for some completely ridiculous reason, Victorious decides the best time to tell Doom about this little indiscretion is when they're standing at the altar, which coincidentally the Fantastic Four are also standing at, because Doom asked Reed to be his best man in a not at all homoerotic little setup involving midnight swordfighting and Reed slipping Doom's emerald ring onto his own finger. Sorry to sidetrack into DoomReed territory here but it's just like. It's just a lot.

(FF 2018 #33) Also, Ben walked the bride down the aisle. :,) Look at his gigantic hand.

Anyway then Doom decides he's going to kill everyone in a completely reasonable and not at all overblown reaction to Johnny and Zora having what was most likely both disappointing for Zora and weepy for Johnny sex. And that brings us up to where Fantastic Four comics left us yesterday -- in answer to your "big change" question, that's most likely coming up in the next issue, so it hasn't come to pass yet.

Having gotten all that out of the way -- the last time Johnny and Peter interacted canon-wise was in the recent Empyre Fallout Fantastic Four, at the end of the Empyre event:

It was cute! Slott does right good interactions between them. This is possibly the Stockholm Syndrome talking. I don't know if more interactions are likely imminent -- the Empyre event was fairly recent. On the other hand, Slott does like writing interactions between them. So I'd give it about a 50/50 shot. I was skimming the letter page in the latest issue and someone wrote in asking if Peter was likely to appear in the pages of Fantastic Four again any time soon, so there is definitely a demand.

As for Johnny coming out -- I don't know. It's not a call I feel comfortable making at this moment, which I guess means I wouldn't bet money on it. I'd like to say yes, especially because I think Slott set up, whether that was his intention or more likely not, several good places in his run where Johnny could have come out. The beginning, when he's implied to be living with Wyatt again and where he and Wyatt are paralleled against Ben and Alicia. Ben's bachelor party, where Johnny laments not finding the right person -- specifically person and not woman -- and where Ben tells him to "be brave, Johnny Storm." And the soulmate planet plot, where I think could have had a very different and much better ending if Johnny had told Sky that she couldn't be his romantic soulmate, because he knows he wants to be with a man. But those are just places that I think would have made good opportunities for a coming out story. Instead, Johnny's been involved (dubiously) with three different women over the space of the last 10 issues, which is more heterosexuality at one time than he's been confronted with in the last 60 years. So my thoughts are still that it's going to happen eventually, but quite possibly not anytime soon.

Hope that helps! And that my incredibly long answer about what's currently going on with Johnny in comics sheds some light on things!

[flourgirl]

When The Party’s Over

Part II to “Even If It’s a Lie”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy, Harry Osborn x Reader

Summary: The closer that Peter gets to Gwen, the more he realizes how irreplaceable you are to him.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: A few curse words here and there.

A/N: There’s going to be a third and final part to this story, so if you’d like to be tagged in it, please shoot me an ask or a reply and I’ll gladly add you to the tag list. Hope you guys enjoy this new part and happy reading :-)

“Counted all my mistakes and there's only one Standing out from the list of the things I've done All the rest of my crimes don't come close To the look on your face when I let you go” -Where Do Broken Hearts Go, One Direction

It had been 17 days since you had last seen Peter and all you could do was sit in your favorite coffee shop and stare at all the muffins in the case. Peter loved muffins. His favorite flavor was banana nut, and usually the two of you would jam out to all of your favorite songs while you waited for them to come out of the oven.

“Y/N,” Betty said, snapping you out of your daze, “Are you alright? You’ve been staring at the pastries for, like, five minutes.”

MJ put down whatever book she had decided to read this week. “Yeah, if you want one, go for it. You deserve it. Here, I’ll pay.” 

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wadded up $10 bill, dropping it onto the table in front of you, and returned to her book.

“You could get a slice of cheesecake,” Betty suggested. “I know how much you like the raspberry one from here.”

But all you could think about was how you wished Peter loved you the way that he loved those stupid banana nut muffins.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, crossing your arms and closing your eyes to take in the soft jazz music that was playing alongside the chatter of the café. “But I’m keeping the ten bucks.”

“Maybe it would help take your mind off of things if you met someone new,” MJ suggested without even looking up at you. It was honestly amazing how she could carry on a conversation while still being so engrossed in her book.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Betty agreed, “You’re so smart, and pretty, and you made all of the baked goods currently taking up lots of precious space in our kitchen.”

“You’re a stress baker,” MJ added. She was right. Over the past two and a half weeks since that night, you had baked three cakes, four pies, and seven different kinds of bread. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night you tried out the new focaccia recipe you had been eyeing.

“I don’t know, guys,” you said, slinking further down into your chair. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing.”

“That’s okay,” Betty reassured you. “Take all the time you need. But we’re here for you, Y/N.”

And that’s how the rest of that day went. Lots of suggestions on ways to stop thinking about Peter and you shooting them down. No matter how Betty and MJ tried to make you feel better, your mind was stuck on the nine voicemails and thirty-two texts he had sent you saying how he was sorry for whatever he did and how he just wanted things to be normal again.

Except you didn’t want normal. You wanted him. You wanted his bad puns and the way his sweaters smelled when he let you borrow one. And the worst part was, he didn’t even know what he did wrong. He didn’t know that he had broken your heart.

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

It wasn’t like Peter didn’t like Gwen. She was outgoing and confident, and he liked how it felt like she was always the center of attention. People wanted to talk to her, or sit next to her, or even have her know that they existed.

But she wasn’t anything like you, and the more time that Peter spent with her, the more apparent that became. She didn’t rant about reality TV or get so overwhelmed during public speaking assignments that the only way she could calm down was with a hug from him. In many ways, she was perfect. Except for the fact that she wasn’t you.

“We’re still on for Flash’s party on Saturday, right?” Gwen asked as she walked with Peter out of the lecture hall where they learned about vascular mechanics.

Honestly, Peter hadn’t even remembered that she had asked him to go to that until she brought it up just now. He was too stressed out wondering whether or not you’d ever speak to him again. 

But what did he do to make you upset? He had promised that if you wanted to leave the party, you could tell him and the two of you would go. Except you never said anything. You just got up and left, without even saying goodbye. You hated him and it killed him to not know why.

Despite this, he wanted to be the good guy and not disappoint any more people, and so he took Gwen’s hand in his and said, “Yeah, definitely. I’ll be there.”

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

If someone had told you that you’d run into Harry Osborn in the middle of Arthur Avenue, you’d say they were crazy. And if that same someone said that you’d ask him on a date, they’d be even crazier. But somehow, some way, that’s exactly what happened.

You were on the way to interview a third-generation restaurant owner for your Italian class. You had never been very good at foreign languages, but you would use any excuse to take a trip to Little Italy. The nervous knots in your stomach from the possibility that they would only speak in a dialect that you couldn’t understand was worth it, because this little nook of the city was home to the best arancini in all of America.

To be honest, it seemed unbelievable that he’d be there, at that exact time, in that exact place to where you’d run right into him. You had been too busy reviewing the notes you had taken during the interview to see that you were on a direct path towards face planting into his torso.

“Fuck,” you grumbled, staring down at your notes scattered on the sidewalk at your feet. The guy you had just ran into kneeled down to gather them into a neat stack, handing them back to you.

“Y/N?” he asked, which caught you off guard. Who the hell was this? It wasn’t until you stared at his face for a few seconds that you recognized him. That guy that Gwen was with at the party. He looked a lot different in his button down and khakis compared to the sweatshirt and baseball cap he had on when you had first met him.

“Uh, hi. You’re Gwen’s friend, right? Henry.” You knew his name. You just didn’t plan on letting that you knew it.

“Yeah, but it’s Harry. Sorry about that, by the way. So, anyway, what brings you all the way down to Little Italy? It’s pretty far from campus,” he told you, as if you didn’t know that. I mean, you had walked all the way here, hadn’t you?

You shrugged, looking away from him. “I guess I could ask you the same thing.”

It was the first time in a while that someone wasn’t fawning over him just because he was rich. Honestly, it was really refreshing. “I asked first,” he noted, mimicking your crossed arms with a smirk.

Who does this guy think he is? 

“Listen,” you sighed. “I really don’t have time for this. I need to get back to my apartment and finish up writing this essay that’s due at midnight.”

“So you’re taking Italian, I presume?” he asked, it suddenly becoming quite clear as to what you were doing on the other side of the city.

“Yeah. And let me guess, you were eating brunch at some fancy, expensive restaurant that your dad owns, drinking some $100 bottle of wine while some nerd you pay does your homework, huh?”

“No,” he laughed. “I was helping put together Thanksgiving dinner baskets for underprivileged families down at the soup kitchen.”

It was only then that you noticed how annoyingly handsome he was. Essentially, he was the male version of Gwen. Same blonde hair and preppy style that just screamed “I have a trust fund.”

“Of course. What, did you need a good photo op ever since the Daily Bugle ran that issue where they called you a spoiled playboy who loves to party?”

You had no intentions of entertaining him, especially since he was a friend of Gwen’s. The girl that had kissed Peter right in front of you, and pretended like she couldn’t remember your name. The girl that Peter was probably with right now.

“I’m not going to pretend like that wasn’t part of it, but believe it or not, I’m not actually as big of a selfish asshole as the papers make me out to be.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, I can tell by the cashmere sweater vest and leather loafers that you’re wearing that you’re so down to earth.”

There was an awkward silence, and Harry decided to change the subject before he pissed you off even more. But what he chose to mention next was the one thing on the planet that you didn’t want to talk about.

“So, uh, I guess your friend Peter is with Gwen now,” he started, which had somehow managed to make you dislike him even more than you already did. Sure, there was no way for him to know how you felt about the whole situation, but it still pained you to think about how you had become an afterthought to who you thought was the guy who would always have your back.

You blinked back at him, frowning. “Yeah, I guess so,” you muttered. And then there was another awkward silence.

“Well, I’ll let you go now. It’s obvious I’m taking up some very precious time in your day,” he said, offering a weak smile. “Maybe we’ll see each other around campus.” 

It suddenly dawned on you that you might have been just a little too hard on him. He seemed nice enough, even if you weren’t a big fan of the company he kept. Before you could even really think about it, you called out, “Wait!” and walked over to meet him when he had turned around.

“I’m sorry,” you admitted, nervously toying with the hem of your sweater. “I’m just in a really bad mood.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, although he wasn’t quite as confident as when the two of you had started your conversation. “We all have bad days. I hope yours gets better.”

“It could, if you’d let me buy you a coffee,” you said, genuinely smiling for the first time in a while. Sure, it was nice to think that Peter would probably be upset once he heard that you had asked someone out and he knew nothing about it, but a small part of you was asking just because Harry Osborn seemed like the kind of guy you’d like to have around.

“Sure,” he answered back, running a hand through his hair, which seemed to be in a perpetually perfect messy-but-not-too-messy state. “Have you ever been to Hungry Ghost in Brooklyn?”

Your eyes lit up. “That’s actually my favorite café! They have this really awesome grand piano in the middle of the room, and every Friday they have an open mic where anybody can sign up to play it.”

Your enthusiasm honestly surprised you. It was nice to have something to talk about that didn’t somehow involve Peter.

“Actually, I’m signed up to play tomorrow night,” Harry told you, “Do you like jazz?”

It almost seemed too good to be true. You loved jazz. “Definitely,” you confirmed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Alright, cool. Let’s make a deal. I’ll let you buy me a coffee if you come watch me play tomorrow night.”

“Deal,” you agreed, before turning back towards your apartment, all giddy with excitement to tell MJ and Betty about what had just happened.

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

“You probably didn’t know this, but Y/N’s been hanging out with Harry Osborn,” Ned said, walking into the common room wearing his “special” Hawaiian shirt, which Peter knew meant he was going someplace fancy. “They’re kind of dating.”

Peter looked up immediately from his linear algebra homework. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach about what Ned had just revealed, but he didn’t know why. He was with Gwen, and if you wanted to date Harry Osborn, then you could. But still, he found himself being just a little bit jealous that some other guy was filling in for him.

“Oh,” Peter said, looking back down at his homework. He couldn’t focus anymore, so he just shut the notebook and threw it from where he was sitting on the top bunk onto his desk. “How long has that been going on?”

“Two days now, but they’ve been spending every minute together since. Betty said that they bumped into each other on the street and she just asked him on a date out of nowhere,” he replied, tying his shoes to go meet his girlfriend for date night. “I just thought I’d let you know, in case you saw them when you were out and got mad at me for keeping it from you.”

“Thanks, dude,” Peter sighed, lying on his back, “You’re a good friend.”

“I know. Anytime, man. Now I gotta go. M’lady awaits,” he said. Peter didn’t even have to look to know that his roommate had just tipped his imaginary fedora.

Harry Osborn wasn’t even your type, Peter thought. You didn’t like guys as “pretty” as him, and you had always been more into brown eyes, not blue. So what was the appeal? His trust fund? Peter knew that you weren’t that shallow. It was just that, well, he couldn’t imagine you falling for someone like that.

You’re with Gwen, Peter kept reminding himself. So many guys would kill to be in your place. It wasn’t until he checked the time that he realized that he was actually about 20 minutes late to meeting her for the party. The stupid party at Flash Thompson’s tacky apartment that he didn’t even want to go to in the first place.

It was an understatement to say that Gwen was pissed when Peter knocked on her front door over half an hour late to the time they had agreed upon.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting,” she complained, smoothing out her sparkly silver dress that caught the light just right when she moved.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed, grabbing her hand as they walked down the street. “Uh, I guess I just lost track of time.”

“Whatever,” Gwen said, “Just don’t let it happen again.”

When they finally arrived at the party, the bowls of potato chips and mini pretzels were nearly empty. The floor was sticky, and Old Town Road boomed from the speakers in the living room. 

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Peter told Gwen, leaving her to greet all of her friends that had been waiting for her to show up. 

As Peter wandered towards the keg, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Harry, and all the things that he didn’t know about your newfound relationship with some guy you had just met. He still didn’t know why he was so upset about it. He should be happy you had found someone you liked. In high school, all you ever talked about was finding the perfect guy, and if that was Harry Osborn, who was Peter to make a fuss about it?

But that didn’t stop Peter from filling up his plastic cup more times than he should���ve that night. It wasn’t until he was being dragged back to his dorm room by Gwen after puking on Flash’s couch that he realized what was wrong. He wanted to be that guy. The one who got to hold your hand and cuddle with you during scary movies. The one that got to love you and be loved by you.

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

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn

P.S.: Sorry to all the people I forgot to tag on this one! I didn’t know that when you answer asks privately, they go away from your inbox. Please shoot me another ask or reply to this post so I don’t miss you again!

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again, Chapter 11: An Unheard Apology

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

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

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Then Again, Chapter 11: An Unheard Apology

(Word count: 1,103)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, 

Standing up, I turn and survey the area by default. Cars are gliding down streets, two workers from the hotel are smoking outside, and the bugs from the trees and lamp posts are buzzing and flying without purpose.

Everything is calm, normal, and still. It gives me another dose of hope. I can fix this.

I’m going back and making things right. I’m ready to apologize. Maybe I can salvage this trip, the thing she’s been so excited for. Speaking of which, I’ll definitely need to apologize to Ned and MJ too. The whole team, considering.

I pick up my phone, wondering if I should send her a text so I don’t waste another minute of her being upset or worried while I figure out how to sneak back in the building.

My screen is full of ignored messages.

“Ned: did you just leave? seriously?"

“I heard the door. was that you or her?"

“MJ said if I can’t hear yelling under the door you’re probably not there. sooo where are you??"

“unless you’re there by yourself."

“but i’ve heard you cry and that’s not you."

“I know my messages are going thru. you’re totally ruining whatever chance you’ve got."

“dude this is like the worst peter parker behavior ever. way worse than ditching me and MJ at that party. she’s seriously upset. you should be there."

“may said you’re still being unreasonable. come on bro. this is the last text I’m sending u.”

The last message is from half a minute ago, half an hour after the previous text.

“DUDE.”

Shit.

It’s like ice water has been poured down my back. I’ve never seen Y/N actually cry over anything. Like sad-scene-in-a-movie cry or just-finished-reading-a-really-good-book cry sure, but nothing real. She’s only quiet if something gets at her. I’m the one who can almost never keep my emotions off the radar. If I could, my eyes and throat wouldn’t still be burning and my face might look less red than my suit. (Not that I have it. Aunt May has it on lockdown at home.) Ned’s right: I should be there. I should have been able to stay with her in the first place to talk this out.

As I picture her in that room, crying alone, I feel my gut drop and my throat itch. This is the worst part of tonight.

Ned is definitely right. Or was, half an hour ago when he dubbed this my worst behavior ever. I have to go back immediately.

Get it together. You’re Spider-Man.

The whole walk back, I think about how I left her alone and probably more confused and hurt than I was when I stormed out. I’m such a shitty friend. This is exactly why I don’t deserve to be more than that to her. Jogging up the stairwell, I imagine how many people are in this hotel, all concentrated in the area I’m about to enter, and how if each of them knew how horrible I’ve been, they would probably kick me out. I can’t believe I left her crying.

I pause at the top of the stairs. I take a breath and I open the door.

Quietly with the key Ned and MJ left me, I slip into the room. For the split second it takes me to shut the door, light from the hallway falls over a massive blanket cocoon huddled on the left side of the bed. It’s something she does whenever she’s stressed or anxious. Anytime she has an important paper or project or presentation, she ends up like this the night before it’s due. It helps when she gets headaches too, I think.

You did this, dumb ass.

My chest is tightening all over again. I take a few steps forward and kneel beside the bed. I’m semi-prepared. I tug a corner of the blanket away from her face and lean in near her ear to whisper.

“Hey, you awake? I know you probably don’t want to see me right now. I just want to say I’m so sorry. I... I’m an idiot. A bona fide moron. If you never want to talk to me, I understand. But if you do, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your personal butler for a month. I’ll let you wear the suit whenev— like twice a week. I’ll do anything you want. I’m so sorry I freaked out and messed everything up.”

That wasn’t so hard. I exhale.

She doesn’t respond.

She’s not even awake.

The faint glow from the streetlamps outside and the alarm clock on the nightstand is enough to outline her face in pale red. Not a muscle moved. I’ll say it again tomorrow. More. And I’ll say it better. If I practice a better speech in my head a thousand times, maybe she’ll forgive me. Then we can work on never letting this happen again.

God, I’ve been such a moron.

I stand up and head to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Maybe it’s from trying to talk to her after today, but there’s this numb tingle in my arms somewhere between an itch and restlessness. It reminds me of how weird the first week was after the bite. Like the rest of my body is pushing my skin too far.

I look at the mirror. Shit. If Aunt May were here, she’d probably be freaking out a bit. I look rough. I look like shit.

I shake my head and focus on just getting ready to sleep. As inconvenient as it is, the competition is still tomorrow.

On the sink: my toothbrush, toothpaste, and retainers. Right where I left them. My bag.... Not where I left it. It was on the floor. Now… it’s not. It’s not in the bathroom at all. There’s a bag, but not mine. I turn off the light and open the door.

I use my phone to look over the room with dim light. Nothing. I open my messages.

“Ned, did you take my bag by accident?”

Whoosh.

Ned might be asleep now; MJ definitely is. If they have my bag, I don’t have my clothes. I planned on sleeping on the floor, but I really don’t want to be just in my trunks when she wakes up and we talk. That’d be weird.

Buzz.

“Ned: not an accident. MJ’s idea. you’ll be the most vulnerable person in the room and self-conscious enough to feel cornered into a bit of honesty. it might help the mission. it might make you think before you speak.”

Life would be easier if my friends weren’t so smart.

Next chapter

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