#(he couldn’t risk pete leaving him so he decided to risk ALL THAT instead)

[illicitlimerence-writes]

cherry | b. barnes

pairing: quarterback!bucky barnes x cheerleader!fem!reader word count: 1.2k words warnings: sorta-smuttish??? like not full-on sex but like, making out?, dry-humping??, language, bucky's a horny little shit. don't know how to explain this but, forbidden love?? sorta??? idk author's note: i wrote this in like an hour, kinda short but i really like how this turned out. did not proof-read, though! as always, english is not my first language, so please be nice and sorry for any mistakes.

My Masterlist

(gif not mine, creds to owner!)

the loud cheering was now just background noise, all your focus was on the lips that kept assaulting your neck, sucking lightly.

"baby, no marks." you muttered, soft sighs escaping your lips as you threw your head back.

you heard him grunting in response, his grip on your waist tightening, pulling you closer. his other hand went to the back of your thigh, and you wrapped it around his waist, leaning against the brick wall for support, rolling your hips.

"fuck, cherry. you're gonna be the death of me," he moaned into your ear, hot breath that made goosebumps erupt on your skin, your nipples hardening against your top from the chilly night air. you shivered, throwing your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his soft hair.

he pulled his head out of your neck to take a good look at you. your neck a bright red color. cheeks flushed. loose strands of hair that fell from your ponytail framing your face. and your his favorite cherry red lipstick, completely untouched.

that was the rule whenever you and bucky made out before a football match. he could not ruin your red lipstick. it matched perfectly with your cheer uniform. but it looked even better on his neck, the stain of the trail of kisses you left on his neck clashing with his blue and gold football jersey.

bucky was the quarterback and captain of the west high wolves, meanwhile, you were captain of the cheerleader team of the east high eagles. it was basically common knowledge that your high schools were rivals, so imagine the scandal that would break loose if someone found the picture-perfect head cheerleader making out with the bad-boy quarterback of the rival team... it was risky, you both knew it, it would ruin both your reputations. but it was a risk you were willing to take, the thrill of the forbidden made your mind dizzy, your heart beat faster.

you had been careful up until that night. but you hadn't seen him in weeks, which was why you were a little too caught up to hear someone shouting bucky's name in the distance.

too lost in the feeling of bucky's lips back on you, small kisses on your cheek, your jaw, behind your ear, before finally settling back on your neck. he tapped your other thigh, and you wrapped both your legs around him, rolling your hips when you felt his hands settling on your naked skin. the red skirt you wore was now scrunched up around your waist, your red spandex shorts underneath the only thing protecting your heat from making contact with his tight jeans.

he grunted when he felt you around him, head snapping back to look you in the eyes.

"are you..?" he started, lifting one eyebrow, eyes darting to where your front met his. you bit your lip, nodding. a smirk threatening to break on your face. your heart stopped at the look he gave you, eyes dark, his grip on you tightening. "one kiss. please. i just need to taste you," he whispered, his lips on top of yours. you opened your mouth, tongue sliding out, licking his top lip.

"no, you know the rules." you muttered, rolling your hips again.

"such a fucking tease," he spat and the smirk you wore made him want to go to church to confess the thoughts that invaded his head, all the sinful things he wanted to do to you at that moment.

"you love me," you said, cocking your head to one side. with his hands on your ass, he lifted you up, making you hiss at the harsh friction.

"fuck yeah i do, cherry." he admitted, burying his face on your neck once again. "missed you so much, missed your tight little body all over me. missed my cherry," he chanted, lips traveling to kiss your breasts on top of your full shell top. in bucky's mind, you had never more beautiful on that cheer uniform. even if you were rooting for the wrong team.

"missed you too, buck. fuck." you whimpered, your senses taking control, seeking the friction you desperately needed. your soft sighs and his low moans were like music to your ears, each sound sending tingles down your body. "love you, buck. you're gonna win this game for me, baby?" you sighed, feeling adrenaline running through your veins.

"fuck, yes, cherry. gonna-"

"bucky? what the hell are you doing?"

you both froze, your eyes widening as you felt bucky setting you down on the floor, hiding you from whoever interrupted you two. he turned to face a blonde guy, bright blue eyes trying to get a glimpse of you. he wore a blue jersey that matched bucky's.

"nothing. i'll be there in a minute," bucky motioned for his friend to leave, his hand wrapping around yours protectively. the guy rolled his eyes, and instead walked up to you both.

"hi, i'm steve. you must be cherry, this idiot can't stop talking about you." he greeted you, offering you his hand.

with flushed cheeks, -the guy had caught you humping his teammate, for pete's sake.- you looked at bucky, and he sighed in surrender.

"cherry, this is steve. my best friend, he's an ass and everything he says is probably a lie. steve, this is my cherry. you know enough about her. there. now, go." he said, leaving you stunned for a second. your eyes met bucky's, you interlocked his fingers with yours. with your other hand, you took steve's.

"hi, my name's y/n. nice to meet you, steve." you smiled, shaking his hand.

"okay, enough," bucky separated your hand from steve's. taking it in his instead, which made steve laugh.

"geez, chill, man. i'm leaving. pleasure to meet you, y/n. good luck out there," he pointed to your uniform, which made bucky grunt.

"steven, i swear to god," bucky started, but was cut off by your laughter.

bucky finally relaxed his shoulders when steve turned to leave, you removed your hands from his, tracing your fingertips up his arms, locking them around his neck, fingers playing with his hair.

"your cherry?" you asked, biting your lip. and bucky wanted nothing more than to drown in the taste and feel of your lips on his.

"hell yes, cherry. mine. all mine. i'm yours, too." he wrapped his arms around your waist again, leaning your back against the brick wall, your hips flush against his.

"you're mine, bucky. and i'm all yours." you whispered, lips touching.

and right then and there, you broke the rules.

you lifted your mouth to meet his, lips crashing in a sensual, needy kiss. he didn't respond for one second, too stunned that you were actually kissing him, right before a game, ruining your his favorite cherry red lipstick. you couldn't care less. the only thing that mattered was kissing your lover like your life depended on it.

at that moment, you decided you didn't care if anyone found you. high school drama and rivalries meant nothing compared to what you felt right then. and, if the entire town decided to cast you out for being traitors, you could live with that.

all you needed was bucky.

and all he needed was his cherry.

[eyoricka]

Fight - Pete Davidson

Requested: yes

Words: 2300

Trigger warnings: some curse words

Pete was not his regular self this past few days. The BPD was hitting hard probably because of stress. He was under pressure for his new special and his whole mental state was affected. You did everything you could to make him feel better, but it was tough. He booked more therapy sessions but on a short run it was not enough. You encouraged him to watch some movies he likes to relax, to express himself creatively and to do some exercises with you however it created more tension than everything. Small things were triggering some Pete’s negative reactions, it was very hard to keep up. You wanted to be there for him, showed that you cared. Sometimes it was just nearly impossible and that worried you. You were kind of used to those situations but this time it was a longer, rougher episode and it began to play with your own mental state.

You were in the kitchen baking some peanut butter brownie for the dessert when Pete entered in the room. He seemed tensed but smiled at you lazily. He approached you and kissed your temple while looking at what you were cooking. He frowned a bit but said nothing. You were surprised by this reaction, he usually loved this treat.

“You don’t like it anymore?”, you asked still taken aback. He rolled his eyes but remained silence which upset you. “You can use your words to answer, you know.”

“I am just wondering if you really know me and want the best for me” he replied growing annoyed.

“You what??!! Where does that come from?!!”

“You know I have Crohn and you know it can be worsened by nuts” he placed a huge emphasis on the you know. “But still you are baking this” he glanced at the brownie meanly, rose his hand towards it and for a second you thought he might throw it in the trash or on the floor. Instead, he put his hand on his face and sighed: “I really wondered why I still get home to be welcomed like that.”

Those words stung you, hard. You had taken of your time to bake this, it was just a small attention and you didn’t expect this reaction. You bit your lips refraining yourself to reply harshly, deep down believing that he didn’t think that, didn’t actually mean that.

“Well, I think you are stressed and angry and maybe you should go relax and we can discuss that later.” You kindly reply, putting a smile on your face.

“Now actually we should discuss that now, you are the one who says that when there is a problem, we have to discuss it, let’s do that.”

“Yeah, but when you are calm, ready to talk without your feelings interfering and risking saying things you don’t mean.”

“I am calm and ready to talk” he insisted visibly growing upset. You nodded and sighed frustratedly. There was no point arguing and you didn’t want to deal with him being angry for such a flutily, so you let him speak. You weren’t really listening carefully to what he was saying considering that he just needed to let some stuffs out because he was stressed. You were sure that he would apologize as soon as his crisis would be over so there was no point in taking to heartedly what he was saying. You didn’t want to ignore him, but it was easier that way, else you would probably be hurt by some words he pronounced without thinking. “Are you even listening to me?!!” he snapped at you while you were lost in your own thoughts. You winced trying to find a way to explain why you were not very into what he was saying without upsetting him even more.

“I…No I don’t really listen. But look Pete you are annoyed and half of the things you are saying, you will regret them later so…”

“You must be fucking kidding me!!! How can you know that I will regret them if you don’t even listen to them! You know what it proves, it proves that you don’t care about how I feel or why, that you don’t give a fuck about me!!”

“No, it is not like that!” you exclaimed trying to make your point.

“Stop trying to make yourself look like the nice guy while I am the bad one!!! Fuck… I can believe you, from all the people I thought I could trust you!”

“But you can” you pleaded.

“No!! Visibly I can’t but I should not be surprise you can’t even seem to remember or care about what I can eat or no so I guess listening to my feelings is too much to ask!!” You opened your mouth to reply to that but he continued: “Maybe if it is too much you should leave, you would probably be happier without me, without pretending you love me, care about me. And I would also be happier, I would finally find someone for me!!” he yelled certainly not even knowing what he was saying, the stress, the anger he was feeling for days were taking the best of him.

Even if you knew that, you still never expected such words. You were astonished to say the least. You couldn’t even answer to that, you were still processing those hurtful words. After few seconds at looking silently at each other, it hit you, what he just said, what he meant. It took every ounce of courage you had to not cry in front of him and simply nod, leave the room silently. You went to your share bedroom and grabbed a bag, put some clothes in it with your toiletry bag. You sent a quick text to a friend of yours asking her to sleep at her place for the night and she accepted without questioning you further. When you crossed the living room to leave the place, you saw that Pete was still standing there, looking at the window. He was back at you. “I will come back in few days to get back the rest of my stuff” you stated, and he didn’t turn around. You put everything in the car and drove to your friend’s place.

When Pete heard the sound of your car driving way, he realized. He realized what he had just say, what it implied, how badly he had screwed up. He wanted to run to you but it was too late, you were gone and he didn’t even know where, he haven’t even seen your face one last time. This broke him and tears streamed down his face. What an idiot. You were right. Of course it wasn’t the moment to talk, of course the anxiety he was feeling was taking the best of him, of course you had nothing to do with all of this. He had been so unfair to you, during all your relationship you had cared, you had listened to him, you had made your best to make him feel better, good, you always had been careful about his feeling, you had been supportive of his decisions and involved in everything he had tried to do. He never thanked you, not really and the only time you were not listening because you were sure that he was not thinking straight, he had been an asshole. He wanted to make it up, he needed to apologize, he wanted to fix things, but he ignored where to start. He was crushed by the idea that it was definitely over, that he would never see you smile at him, wear his shirt, cook for him, play video games with him, falling asleep in his arms while watching movies… All those precious, treasured moments you shared would vanish and he would never be able to relive them.

He tried to recompose himself and called you, but he never reached anything else than your voicemail. The sole sound of your voice humming asking to leave a message was enough to make him sob again. He fell asleep that night crying while you did the same some miles away. Those few miles felt like the abyss between you, an abyss that none of you would be able to cross that night to join the other.

When you woke up the following morning, you had a lump in your throat, you felt sick. Your friends had made you a delicious breakfast to cheer you up and you smiled kindly at her. She didn’t pry in your intimacy last night, she did what she could to make you happier, gave you space and let you sleep while insisting that she was there in case you needed. You were so grateful to have her. As you were eating, you received a text from Pete, you were not sure if you wanted to open it or not, if you were brave enough to read it but you couldn’t avoid it. You would have to read it at some point so there was no need to put it to another moment. You were a bit shook by his words, expecting a breakup text, a date to pick up your remaining stuff. You couldn’t help but smile a bit at your screen: “I am so dumb, I am surely the dumbest dude in all New York, and I am sorry, I can’t apologize enough for my behavior. But please give me one last chance to talk to you, if you don’t want to see me after that I can understand but I want to apologize to you in person, you deserve it, you are amazing and that is the least I could do after all the hurt I caused.” You texted back a brief ok, thanked again your friend and drove back to your place. Your fingers were drumming nervously against the steering wheel.

To your surprise the front door wasn’t locked and then you remembered that you had left in such a rush that you hadn’t even taken the keys. As you took off your shoes, you heard Pete made his way to the entrance and you took a seconds or two to look at him. Judging by the enormous bag under in eyes you guessed he hadn’t had much sleep last night, his eyes were glossy giving you a clue on how he spent the night crying. He looked miserable and you presume that you looked the same. He approached you slowly like he was scared that you would reject him. When he realized that you were not angry at him but rather hurt, he internally felt like dying. He had always sworn to make you happy, laugh, to protect you and in the end, he was the precise reason you were pained. He rose his hand to help you to take your coat off and you noticed that his hand was shaking.

“I am that intimidating?” you humored him, and he smiled sadly at you. You then proceed to follow him in the living room, as you sat on the couch, he paced around the room. Your eyes followed him closely as he was moving, chewing on his lips, and playing with his sweatshirt. He eventually locked his eyes with yours and decided to sit down in the armchair in front of you.

“I am sorry, I fucked up immensely, I don’t even have words to tell you how sorry I am. What I did, what I told you, it was unspeakable, ignominious, and if you can’t forgive now or never, I would get it but sincerely I am sorry. I can even begin describe how much I feel like the worse for making you feel like this, to have accused you of things you never did. You always had been there for me, always, even in the harder moments, you had always tried to make me feel better when I am low, you spent hours listening to me and my struggles and the only thing I do is to tell you that you don’t do enough. Fuck, I am so stupid. I should have listened to you. I know apologize are not enough, I realize how badly I hurt you, how from the start I was an ass. You baked me something I like and because I am feeling bad, I take all my anger at you, this is fucked up I am sorry. My mental health is not an excuse for what I did to you, to treat you like this it was awful of me. I felt anxious and attacked at work, so I attack you and this behavior, my behavior it can not lead us anywhere except to our downfall. You don’t have to forgive, you don’t have to say anything, I would get it you know, I am just sorry.”

You brushed away a tear on your cheek, you felt like crying and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Maybe because you were really hurt, or because this apology seemed so sincere or simply because you couldn’t stand to see him like this considering that he had realized how cruel he had been. You stood up and took his hands in yours, enjoying their warmth. You let him engulf you in his arms, intoxicated by his scent while he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

“What you said yesterday, it stung me hard, but I am willing to forgive you, Pete. But I don’t want to relive that again, not in few days, not in months, not in years. I want this to make us stronger, we can use this to advance, to be better, okay?” you whispered as you pressed your head against his chest. You felt him tighten his grip on you as he murmured back “okay”.

[hangovercurse]

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About iii

Colson takes you on your first date.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, teeth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 2721

| i | ii | iv | v |

Friday couldn’t come soon enough, even though it was only 5 days after your encounter at Pete’s house. You had been texting each other all week, he would send you pictures of him in the studio and you would tell him of the various artists you were working with.

And you were both avoiding Pete like the plague.

You felt bad, you really did. You loved your older brother, a lot. But if you were around him you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from telling him about the date. You told him everything, and it was already hard enough not to tell him when you weren’t around him.

You were so nervous about hiding the date beforehand that you never stopped to consider what would happen afterwards. On one hand if it went really well, there would most likely be more, and if it went really bad, you’d have to explain to Pete why you didn’t want to be around the guy you’d gotten along so well with.

None of that crossed your mind. What did cross your mind, however, was that you had no idea where you were going. You had been asking Colson all week, trying to plan an outfit, but he wouldn’t tell you.

You’ll find out on Friday.

Okay but that still doesn’t help me

You’ll look amazing in whatever you wear

I will end you -_-

I would let you

You smiled a bit too wide when you read that, a blush coming to your cheeks.

Just wear something casual 😊

“JuSt WeAr SoMeThInG cAsUaL”

I mean you could just show up naked…

-_-

Just saying ;p

Watch yourself Kelly

I’d rather watch you

 Friday came along, and you were looking at the clock every 5 minutes. Lea, a new artist that you had been writing with for the past few months, took notice. “Someone’s got a big date tonight.”

You tilted your head and sent a joking glare to the girl. “I’m just saying, you’re looking at the clock like it’s gonna explode.” She smiled as you sighed.

“I haven’t been on a date in so fucking long, Lea.” You whined, throwing your head back, “I’m so excited.”

She chuckled, “who’s the lucky guy?” She shook her shoulders and you let out a giggle.

“I technically can’t tell you that.”

Her eyes went wide, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

You smiled widely, “technically speaking I’m not supposed to be going on a date with him. He’s kind of my brother’s best friend.”

Her jaw dropped, hands spreading on the table, “you’re joking!” You laughed loudly, shaking your head. “Y/N that’s against sibling law!”

“I know, I know. But it’s not my fault he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen and he’s into me. What was I supposed to do?” You frowned and she sighed.

“What does he look like?”

“I would show you a picture but then you would know who he is, but I can tell you he’s hot as fuck.”

Lia pouted, the wheels spinning in her head. “Wait, so he’s famous?” You bit your lip, giving her her answer. “Holy shit, Y/N! What if the press catches you guys out together? Pete’s definitely gonna see then.”

You groaned, throwing your head into your hands, “I know, but it’s just one date. And he promised it would be somewhere secluded.”

��Ohhh.” She dragged out the last sound, her voice getting higher. “Secluded, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, “you’re paying me to write songs for you, not tell you about my love life.” You giggled and she sighed.

“Fine, but if you don’t write a song about all this, I’m gonna be very upset.”

“Whatever you say, Lea.”

 I’m outside

Your heart skipped a beat when you got his text, checking yourself out in the mirror once more. “Fuck it, here goes nothing.” You mumbled to yourself before walking out of your apartment, locking the door behind you. You had told Colson to pick you up behind the building, so that if there were any paps on the street, they wouldn’t see you.

You walked out to find him leaning against his car, a smirk coming to your lips as you drank him in. He looked even hotter than that first night, and you knew you were in for trouble. When he saw you, he bit his bottom lip, a smile on his face as he checked you out.

“Hey.” You said once you got close to him. “I’m supposed to be going on this date tonight with this really hot Rockstar, have you seen him?” You tilted your head slightly.

He raised an eyebrow at you before deciding to follow along. “A hot Rockstar? Hm, no, I don’t think I have.”

“Bummer, I was really excited.” You let out a dramatic sigh.

He chuckled, “sounds like an asshole, if you ask me.”

“Oh, he totally was.” You giggle, scrunching your nose, “but the coolest asshole I’ve ever met.”

“I mean, I’m not hot asshole Rockstar but I do have a car. I could take you out instead?” You tilted your head, pretending to think about it.

“Hmmmm, I don’t know…” You trailed off, a smirk still on your lips.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand and leading you to the passenger side seat as he spoke. “Oh my god just get in the car.”

You chuckled as you sat down, him joining you a few moments later. You looked over at him as he started the car, still half convinced you were dreaming. He caught you staring, sending you a glance before he pulled from where the car was. “What?”

“Nothing.” You smiled, not looking away from him.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I am going to crash this car.” He chuckled, a blush coming to his cheeks as he paid attention to the road in front of him, trying to ignore your gaze.

You giggled, turning to face forward. “I can’t help it,” you started, “you’re nice to look at.”

He rolled his eyes, “well I could’ve told you that.”

You leaned your head back, letting out a dry laugh. “And not conceited at all.”

He bit his tongue, both of you grinning like idiots as you drove down the streets of New York. You continued to bother him about where he was taking you, but he wouldn’t budge, telling you that you would find out when you got there.

He pulled into a small dirt parking lot next to an expanse of trees. There were only two other cars in the lot, and the forest seemed secluded. He turned the car off, getting out and walking over to open your door, helping you up. “This is cute.” You said, taking in the scenery around you. It wasn’t very often you got to be around nature without a lot of people crowding the wildlife.

Colson smiled as he opened the trunk, pulling out a literal picnic basket and blanket. “Yeah, well, you’re cute. So, I thought it would be fitting.” You blushed, reaching out to try and take the blanket from his hand but he moved it out of your reach.

You pouted, “well I was gonna try and hold your hand but both of your hands are full so I guess I’ll just have to suffer.”

Colson rolled his eyes, shifting so that the blanket rested on top of the basket all in one hand, grabbing yours with the other. You intertwined your fingers with his, the feeling very natural. You had never been this straight-forward with a guy, especially one you just met, but it just came so easily with Colson. “All you had to do was ask, princess.”

Your cheeks turned red at the nickname, so you turned your head away from him slightly. He chuckled at the movement and you pouted. Colson swung your arms as you walked onto a trail leading through the forest. “This is really cheesy, you know that, right?” You asked, looking up at him.

He nodded, meeting your eyes, “Yeah, I know.”

“Very un-Rockstar-like.” You commented. “If anyone found out you were a hopeless romantic your reputation would be ruined.”

“No one would believe you if you told anyone.” He laughed, “but you have to admit, this is gonna be the best first date you’ve ever been on.”

You were too distracted by his blue eyes to notice the scenery around you, the beautiful trees swaying with the slight breeze, the sound of water rushing in the distance. “I guess we’ll see.” You smirked; your tongue pressed against your bottom teeth.

“You are mean.” He muttered, shaking his head. You giggled, finally taking your eyes off his and finding the shoreline a few hundred feet in front of you. Your smile widened at the sight and you squeezed his hand.

“You really are a hopeless romantic.” You giggled as your feet hit the sand and Colson groaned at your words. “I like it!”

He grinned at you as you grabbed the blanket from his arm, spreading it out. “Well, we couldn’t exactly go out to the city without risking being seen and you deserve better than my house. So, you get a picnic on the beach.”

You rolled your eyes as he set the picnic basket down, sitting on the blanket and pulling you down next to him. “Just say you thought it would be romantic.”

“I never said I didn’t!” He opened the basket, pulling out various dishes and setting them onto the blanket in front of you. He then pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

You raised your eyebrow, “didn’t take you as a wine drinker.” You giggled

His eyes went wide, “just let me have this, woman.”

“I wasn’t complaining, I just think it’s kind of funny.” He rolled his eyes as you leaned into him, his arm wrapping around you. “Seriously, though, this is really sweet. No one has ever taken me on a picnic date.” You leaned your head against his shoulder, smile never leaving you.

“If you tell anyone I did this I’ll kill you.” He mumbled and you hid your laugh.

“I thought no one would believe me?” You looked up to his face, taking in his sharp jawline. You wanted to lean up and press your lips to it, but you resisted the temptation. You felt his chest move as he laughed silently, pulling you even closer to him.

The rest of the night passed just as easily, conversation flowing naturally between you and Colson. He told you all about his daughter, his friends, and the movie that he and Pete had wrapped. You talked about your music and the people you were writing for. It was easy to just exist around him, something that didn’t happen with very many people. Colson was real and open and made everything else seem to just disappear. You could understand why Pete had taken such a liking to him.

You two had stayed long after the food was gone and the sun had set. Colson brought out two candles and lit them, making you swoon even further. It was like a fairytale, and you never wanted to leave.

Throughout the night there were moments when you almost grabbed his face and kissed him, and you were sure he felt the same way. But you didn’t want to mess up what was going so well by moving too fast. And you still hadn’t discussed the not-so-small challenge of your relationship, Pete.

Eventually, when you had almost fallen asleep in his tattooed arms, Colson decided you guys had best be leaving. You packed up the food and candles, making jokes and basking in each other’s presence. Once Colson had placed everything back in the trunk, he made his way over to the passenger side door that you were leaning against.

He placed his hands against the car on either side of you, leaning down to be as level as possible with you. “I had a lot of fun tonight.” You said, softly.

His face was dangerously close to yours, the intimacy taking your breath away. “I did too.” His voice matched yours. His eyes wandered your face, occasionally drifting down to your lips before pulling away.

“I really like you, Colson.”

He smiled widely; his eyes gleaming. “I really like you too, Y/N.” He mimicked your phrasing. “What would you say if I said I wanted to take you out again?”

Your tongue peeked out between your lips slightly, “I guess you’ll have to ask and find out.”

He let out a sigh, “you are not gonna go easy on me, are you?” You shook your head, your smirk reaching your eyes. “Good.” He whispered, leaning in closer to you. You could move forward and close the gap between your lips, but you weren’t going to be the one to make the first move. “Will you go out with me again? Soon?”

You smiled at his eagerness, “I would love to. How soon?”

“Does Sunday make me sound too eager?”

You tilted your head, humming. “Nah, Sunday’s perfect.”

“Would it make this night better or worse if I kissed you right now?” His words made your heart flutter, your arms moving up his chest to rest lazily on his shoulders.

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” He chuckled at that, glancing up.

“What have I gotten myself into?” He whispered but the smile on his face screamed volumes.

You giggled softly, “are you gonna kiss me or not?”

His smile widened before he leaned in to meet your lips. His hands moved to your waist as you pulled him closer to you by his neck. This kiss was different from the first ones you shared, it was soft and sweet. You weren’t hungry for each other, dancing in the dark to hide from your brother and taking the few moments you could get, you were just two people kissing for the sake of it.

He pulled away slowly, his nose still touching your own. You both stood there for a while, enjoying the feeling of the other and the breeze that blew between you. Finally, he mumbled, “We should probably get going.” Despite his words, he didn’t move.

You nodded in agreement against him but also made no effort to get in the car. Instead, you leaned forward and captured his lips in yours again. It was small and quick, but just as sweet. “Fuck I’m already so far gone.” Colson mumbled before pushing himself off of you, his eyes locked on yours.

You blushed, leaning off the car and finding the handle. “You aren’t the only one.”

 Your hand was intertwined with his the entire way home, both of you grinning like idiots as music played quietly on the radio. “I don’t want to be the one to bring it up, but what are we gonna tell your brother?” He asked, his eyes on the road.

You sighed, looking out the window, “I don’t know yet. I don’t wanna hide anything from him but at the same time if we told him he’d freak out.”

“But why would it bother him that much?” Colson asked, and you frowned.

“I don’t know, I think he’s worried about what happens if we break up. He doesn’t have many close friends and he seems to really like you, so he doesn’t want to have to choose between us or feel awkward around us if things end badly.”

Colson nodded, thinking. “But he wouldn’t pick me over you, ever. I wouldn’t let him.”

“Yeah, and he knows that but it doesn’t make it any easier for him.” You sighed. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll try and bring up the idea and see how he reacts.”

“It’s your decision. And if you decide that you don’t wanna do this with me because of Pete, I’d completely understand.” You smiled at his words, your heart melting at his thoughtfulness.

You squeezed his hand, “You are so much sweeter than you let people think, you know that?” He nodded, a soft smile on his features. “I’m not giving up on this.” You whispered.

“I won’t either.” He glanced over at you, briefly taking in your angelic appearance before turning his eyes back to the road.

[andilovetowrite]

39 and 47 from your prompt list? Peter Parker x reader!! Maybe reader has long hair n it gets stuck in his shirt or something 🥺😭🥺😭 super fluffy

Always Stuck

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Getting your hair stuck in everything was a pain. In ice cream or your lipgloss. In the car windows and your hairdryer. But just this once, you didn’t mind it getting stuck somewhere.

Prompts Used: “I don’t want to risk our friendship, but I can’t keep this hidden anymore.” and “Because I love you.”

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff and a bit of angst. A few bad words here and there as well.

Word Count: 1.7k

Here is my Masterlist, and my prompt list :) Hope you enjoy this one!

Damn it”, you muttered, pulling your hair out from under the pillow. Having long hair, especially for someone who hates tying her hair up, was a bit of a pain. Constantly pushing it out of your face, as well as trying to keep it out of everything else, had become a part of your life.

So why didn’t you cut it off? Well...because of Peter Parker. Peter was your best friend, a partner in crime, the Batman to your Robin. You had known him from pre-school, where he would come in with colossal building blacks falling from his backpack and an Iron Man lunch box in his hand. As time passed, the friendship between the two of you deepened, and by the time you both were in high school, your feelings towards him had morphed into something much less platonic.

Peter knew how much you loved having long hair, and even if it did give you trouble now and then, he knew you would be unhappy if you cut it off. Your mother had long hair too, well… before she died, and she loved that you grew your hair out to match hers. You remember that you had vowed to have long enough hair to cut it off and give it to her once her chemo-therapy had stopped. Sadly, she didn’t live long enough for that to happen, as the cancer got too her much too quickly. Nevertheless, you had still kept it, not wanting to chop off a piece of yourself that connected you with her.

You might say that that was the only reason for you to keep your long hair…. But it wasn’t. As you were saying, Peter Parker played an important role. He loved your lusciously long hair. A lot. Whether it was just combing his hands through it or styling it when he was bored, he loved playing with your curls. After the patrol, when he came in through your window, it was only a matter of time before he was nestled up next to you, hands entangle in your hair as he fell asleep. So, you didn’t have a strong need or urgency to cut your hair...until today.

It was like the universe was screaming at you to lose your mind. Starting in the morning, you had gotten out of the shower, and while drying your hair, almost half of it got sucked in by the annoying machine. Wasn’t the best start.

Fast forward to an hour later, while you were at school. You hadn’t seen Peter around all day, and you didn’t even have any classes with your friends, so you weren’t in the best mood. Bring out your lipgloss; you looked into the mirror, grimacing at your dry lips. Smothering on a thick layer, you turned around, only to be hit with a strong gust of wind. Blowing hundreds of strands of hair into your face, about half of them stuck to your lips, making you huff out in annoyance.

Since most of your face was covered by your unruly hair, you tried to maneuver yourself to the washroom, hoping to regain your sight, but instead banged into the lockers, causing a loud BANG to go through the hallway. Students voices began ringing out, and soon enough, a flash went off infront of you.

“Get out of my way”, you growled, pushing aside the crowd as you sought out MJ. She frowned apologetically, moving both of you to the bathroom, where you spent the next twenty minutes cleaning out your face and hair from the lipgloss residue and grumbling about how annoying your classmates were.

Not wanting to get any more attention, you decided to leave for the day, as you bid MJ goodbye and began walking to the bus stop.

You would’ve thought that’s enough for the day, right? Nope. While getting onto your bus home, the doors closed...way too fast. Since you were in Queens, the weather was unpredictable. One minute it could be bright and sunny, next? Rainy and gloomy. Today, however, was one of the windiest days ever. So when your were trying to haul your bag into the moving bus, your hair got caught in the door, leaving you wide eyed as you tried to pull it in. People began whispering around you, as you grit your teeth. Pressing the red button to stop the bus, you got off, deciding to walk the next 30 minutes back home.

And what a long thirty minutes they were. You decided to grab a coffee to cheer yourself up, but, as luck would have it, you spilt it when you stumbled on the side walk. Now, was your hair not only covered in lip gloss and pulled apart to look frazzled, but it was also soaked in cold brew.

Taking a deep breath as you entered the house, you ran straight to the shower, dumping your stuff on the ground the minute you walked in. You decieded to shampoo your hair nicely today. Not that you didn’t like the smell of coffee in your hair, but you needed to wash it.

Besides...Peter was coming over tonight. Now, you would’ve thought that washing your hair would not be an issue. You have been doing it your whole life. But boy oh boy, were you wrong.

Squirting the liquid into your hands, you started massaging your scalp. You sighed, finally peaceful after the day you had had. But then… tragedy striked. As you started to wash it out, your eyes began stinging.

“Wha-”, you said, rubbing the water out of your eyes, but it just made it worse. “Holy shit, what is thi-” Stumbling out, you tried to reach for a towel, but your hand got stuck in your wet hair, making you trip. Grabbing onto the lever next to you, the water suddenly became scorching hot, making you cry out before running out into your room. Reading for whatever cloth was next to you, you rubbed your face furiously, until the burning sensation stopped.

Taking a deep breath, you walked back into the bathroom, grabbing a towel and looking at the mess you made. Watching closer, your bloodshot eyes widened as they looked at what you used.

“Shoot, that’s Y/D/N’s shampoo! I used a dog’s shampoo, damn it!” Pissed off, you walked into your room, slipping on your comfiest clothes before putting your stud-ridden hair in a towel, not wanting to see it anymore. Crawling into your bed, you closed your eyes, feeling the tiredness hit you like a wave, and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep.

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

“Hey Y/N”, Peter’s voice floated in through the quiet air of your room. You slowly opened your eyes to see Peter’s face, his lips in a cute smile and his brown curls hanging down his forehead as he looked down at you.

“He-hey Pete, when did you get here?”, you asked, drowsily.

‘Bout an hour back”, he whispered, picking up some things on your desk as he organized them. Pushing yourself up, you looked around your room, shocked to see it so clean.

“Wha-why is, why did you-”

Peter sighed, smiling at you. “MJ told me what a day you had, so I decided to help you out a bit.” He chuckled, smirking a bit. “Especially after your room looked like a tsunami hit it”

“But still, why would you go through that trouble? You must be tired, right? To-today was training-”

“Because I love you. And you always help me out like this when I have a tough day”, he said, shrugging his shoulders. For a second, your heart had skipped a beat, but then you realized that he said it as a best friend. A friend. You wanted to say it back. Say what you’ve been meaning to say. But you just smiled back, opening your arms so he could crawl in, hugging you against his buttoned-up chest.

You huffed out, the buttons digging into your cheek. “Peter, take this off, why must you wear a shirt? Go get a sweater or something”, you said, knowing he left about 5 of his jackets here for how much he slept over at your place.

But all Peter responded with was a loud, exaggerated sigh. “But whyyy. I’m comfy?”

You laughed quietly at his tone, so you started to get up to get him one, but was pulled down. Sitting up back, you realized your hair was caught in his shirt, pulling it up, exposing his taut torso.

“Peter! My hair”, you said, trying to untangle yourself, but only making it worse.

“Huh, oh”, he said, leaning up to unravel your hair, making his face only a couple of inches away from you, letting you see his freckles that adorned his skin.

Too shocked, you just sat there, as Peter’s finger worked his shirt, since, at one point, he realized it would just be easier to take it off. So, you sat there, your body hot and face possibly red, while your (chiselled and muscular) best friend untangled your hair.

“Okay”, he said, leaning back. You stuttered, looking at your hair then at Peter, who just realized he was topless. You could see his cheeks turn pink, and his pupils dilate as he looked at you, and you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I don’t want to risk our friendship, but I can’t keep this hidden anymore. I-” you looked at him, feeling a surge of energy go through you, “I really like you, Peter. Hell, I think I love you.” You sighed, worried when he didn’t say anything. “Peter, please say something-” You looked away, tears pricking your eyes. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have said anythin-”

“I love you. Too. You are-I can’t. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to tell you but I-”

You would’ve loved to hear what else he was talking about, but your mind had other things to focus on. Like his lips. Kissing him lightly at first, you deepened it when he didn’t pull away. You felt his hand sneak into your hair, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it at all. He pulled away as he caressed your face.

“Oh my god, I love your hair…”

You laughed out loud, hugging him. “Is that the first words you wanna tell me as a couple?” You pretended to act hurt. “One might even choose to believe you like me for my hair”

He smirked, whispering in your ear. “Oh no, you got me. I am deeply in love with your hair, not you too much. Sorry you had to find out like this”

You became serious, hugging him more tightly. “I was gonna cut my hair today. Thank for-”

“I’m glad I was there to protect the love of my life”

“You are talking about me right?” you asked, looking into his playful chocolatey eyes.

“Who else?”, he asked back, winking…

Thank you so much for requesting this Anon! I loved writing it, and even though I myself don’t have long hair, I highly respect anyone who does, because it's a lotta work. Anyway, my requests are still open, in case you wanna send in ideas that you may have, or just wanna chat. Until next time 👋

Tagged: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower @a–1–1–3

[wcnderlnds]

where do broken hearts go / peter maximoff x reader

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader Description: You and Peter used to be inseparable but now he can’t bear to be around you. Warnings: sad peter??? Word Count: 1601 A/N: okay full disclosure i dont usually write angst i’m usually a fluff/humour type of gal but i’m trying to delve into the world of pain so go easy on me. gif is from google bc... lazy.

You never thought you’d be back here but fate had a funny way of rearing it’s ugly head. It had been two years since you’d left Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. It hadn’t been an easy decision but you couldn’t stay there. After everything that had happened with Apocalypse, you realised that wasn’t the life you wanted to live and made a run for it. You wanted a normal life — not one where you could be attacked at any given moment for being different. So, you’d headed back to your family. Thankfully, there was only one person who knew where you lived these days and Charles knew better than to try and convince you to come back. Once your mind was made up, that was it. You were one stubborn person. That didn’t mean it didn’t break your heart to leave because it did. There was so much you’d left behind — your friends, your mentors and, most importantly, Peter Maximoff.

The moment you and Peter had met over ten years ago you’d instantly clicked. Charles had needed yours and Peter’s help with something. That something was breaking out Magneto from a high security prison but you didn’t really like to bring that up much. That was when you and Peter had first met and from that moment on you’d been inseparable. You’d decided to stay at the school to learn to control your abilities while Peter had gone back home but you’d stayed in touch the whole time. There had been so many times when you’d tried to talk him into coming to the school but he wanted to be with his family. Whenever you could, you met up and that had eventually turned into the two of you dating. You’d officially been together for three years when everything changed.

After Peter had showed up at the school and saved you (and everyone else) from the burning building things took a wild turn. Apocalypse had happened. It had shook you to your core. As much as you loved Peter, as much as you loved the people you were surrounded with on a daily basis you couldn’t take the risk of that happening again. So, you’d left. There was no goodbyes because that would’ve been too painful so instead you’d left your favourite silver haired speedster a letter. There had been so many times when Peter had tried to get in contact with you but you ignored him. If you were going to even have the tiniest bit of a normal life then you had to leave everything behind including the love of your life.

Now, here you were stood outside of the doors to the place you’d vowed to never return to. Your abilities had taken a bit of an unexpected turn. You had tried to keep it under control by yourself but when you’d almost accidentally hurt a family member you knew it was time to get some real help. If there were any other place you could’ve gone, you would’ve but only Charles, Erik and everyone at the school could help you.

With a deep, shaky breath, you pushed open the doors to the building you hadn’t seen in a while. Students were rushing around making their way to their next class. It was Hank who spotted you first. Quickly, he dashed over to you pulling you into a bone crushing hug. “(Y/N)!” He exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you! Charles told me we’d be expecting you.”

“Kinda need to breathe here, buddy,” you gasped, patting your friend on the back as he released his hold on you. “It’s good to see you, too. Does… uh, does Peter know I’m here?”

Hank frowned. “Not as far as I know but I think you should talk to him first before anything else. The last thing we all need is for things to be awkward around here.”

A heavy sigh passed your lips. He was right, like always. The last thing you wanted to do was waltz in and make things weird for everyone so you were going to have to be an adult and face Peter no matter how much it was going to hurt. 

After chatting for a little with Hank and a few others — Jean, Scott and Jubilee — you sought out Peter. Nerves were bubbling up inside as you wandered through the corridors hoping to get a glimpse of the speedster. Your palms were sweaty as you rubbed them together, a stress headache slowly but surely making its presence known. Maybe coming back here wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe you should’ve just isolated yourself and gone into hiding. It’d be better than having to do this.

It was then you finally laid eyes on him. He was leaning against the wall, looking at his watch as impatiently as ever. There was a brief pause while you had an internal pep talk with yourself then you made your way to him.

“Peter?” You said meekly.

At the sound of your voice, he looked at you. Before you could even open your mouth to say anything else he was gone.

*****

Since then you’d tried for three days to talk to him but every time he would run off or try to avoid you. Admittedly, it hurt but you knew you didn’t have the right to be hurt. He was acting this way because he was hurt. You deserved it but that didn’t make it any less painful. So, you asked Hank to help you out.

Impatiently, you waited in the danger room. Hands on your hips as you paced up and down in the empty room. The plan was for Hank to ask Peter to come and run through some scenarios with him then once he was in the room Hank was going to lock him in there so he couldn’t escape. At the sound of the door opening, you froze hoping this would work.

“Give me a second. I need to go make sure everyone knows we’ve got the room for a bit.” Hank patted Peter on the shoulder before quickly exiting the room and locking it. Peter hadn’t noticed you yet, a confused look on his face as he noticed the door locking.

“Hank, what the…” He banged on the door.

“He’s not going to let you out,” you said from where you were stood at the other end of the room. Peter spun around to face you.

“I have nothing to say to you,” his tone was brash — something you’d never experienced with him before.

“I know but, Peter, I really need - “ you started with a step closer to him.

“And I really needed you!” He exclaimed throwing his arms in the air with an exasperated sigh. “I broke my leg and needed you but instead I was handed a letter by Hank telling me you were gone. So, I don’t really care what you need. You bailed on me when I needed you the most.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry,” your eyes began to brim with tears. 

“It’s too late for that. You broke my heart and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you for that.”

“I was selfish and… I didn’t think. I was thinking about myself and that was wrong. I know that now. I’m sorry for leaving you. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I thought about you every single day. I loved you, Pete. I still love you and… I’m just so sorry.”

Tears had freely began to fall down your cheeks. It was taking all of Peter’s will to not close the space between you and wipe them away. No matter how much he was angry at you, he still loved you too but he couldn’t bring himself to get hurt again. 

“Everyone told me I’d forget about you and move on but it’s two years later and here I am still wanting to make you feel better instead of myself,” he looked at the ground. It hurt to look at you especially now that you were crying. “You broke me, (Y/N). I just….” He paused, shaking his head. “I still love you too but… I can’t. The trust is completely gone. I’m not willing to give you my heart again when you were so careless with it the first time.”

“I know,” you sniffed. Your sweater clad hand moved to rub at your eyes but was stopped mid way when Peter grabbed it, lowering it. The pads of his thumbs moved to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks which only made you cry more.

“I need time. I need to learn how to be around you again. I need to learn how to trust you again and then… maybe we can….” He trailed off unable to bring himself to say it. He didn’t need to give himself false hope. By now his forehead was resting against yours, his eyes closed as if it was physically hurting him to say his next words. “But, for now, I need you to leave me alone. Please.”

You nodded, taking a step back to put space back between the two of you as you shouted. “Hank, open the door.”

In mere seconds the door unlocked. With one last look and a sad smile Peter left the room leaving you alone. If there was one thing you knew, it was that you’d do anything to make Peter Maximoff happy again. If space was what he needed then you’d give him it. No matter how long it took — he was worth it.

[lemonpeter]

STARKER, by Peter B. Parker

Chapter 8: Bondage

That’s only the tumblr title so it shows up in tags, the real one is on ao3 I believe

A/N: how do these chapters always end up so long? we don’t really know. peter’s going through it, yall. we’re officially halfway through this story, and we can’t wait to get the rest of it up for you to read. big things are happening!! - bloo and bri <3 💕

(also- you may have noticed, but for every chapter, the title is in reference to the au or trope it features. we aren’t just lazy and unoriginal lol...there’s a method to the madness)

Warnings: privacy invasion (Peter dealing with the fallout of the previous chapter), very nff, d*m/s*b relationship

Masterlist ao3

————

With shaking hands, Peter slid the glasses from his face. He closed his fist around them as he tried in vain to steady his breathing. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. What the fuck was he supposed to do?

Once again, it felt like the world had shifted on its axis and everything was closing in on him.

What the fuck was that? How had SHIELD infiltrated EDITH’s programming in order to allow May into his illusions? How long had she been real? If she’d been the May he’d conjured every time...

That would explain why his spidey sense had reacted so strongly that first time, when he introduced his family to Tony. He had known that something was wrong, but hadn’t been able to discern what. Because he was looking for a threat in his environment, not a digital one.

Hindsight was always fucking 20/20.

May’s presence in the illusions aside, the fact still making his skin crawl, how long had SHIELD been watching him? What had they seen? Were they always watching?

The thought made Peter feel sick to his stomach. They all knew what he was doing, they saw him with Tony. That meant that they...they *knew how he felt about* Tony. Fuck, they’d seen them having sex, something that was not meant for anyone else to even know about, much less witness. If they’d been watching at all, they had to have seen it, there was no way they hadn’t.

Tears began to sting in the teen’s eyes, and he swallowed thickly around the bile that was making its way up his throat. He felt...dirty. Violated.

Betrayed.

This was supposed to be just for him, just for him and Tony. But instead, a bunch of people he didn’t even know were watching his deepest fantasies play out with an illusion of a man who was thirty-odd years older than him. Not to mention the fact that said man had been…gone for nearly a year.

...That meant that even May had seen.

The reality of that fact made his stomach flip, shame and disgust burning in his veins.

Not only had his aunt seen him cuddled up to Tony, watched as he married the man, not holding anything back... She’d probably seen him in every vulnerable moment, any time they’d slept together, even the less explicit intimate interactions the two of them had shared. Just like the people at SHIELD had.

He wrapped one arm around his torso in a weak attempt to comfort himself and soothe his churning stomach. He hadn’t eaten anything in a few hours, but the meager food he’d had was threatening to make a reappearance. The more he thought about the reality of the situation, the more it sunk in, the worse he felt.

Guilt piled on top of shame, disgust was added onto betrayal, violation was added to the entire mix. And it all made him want to crawl out of his own skin and be sick.

He wanted to disappear.

The only consolation he had was that they wouldn’t be able to get in again. There was no way for them to influence him or have any sort of impact on the illusions. He couldn’t control anything else they might do, but EDITH had guaranteed that the new 24/7 monitoring and firewall improvement would ensure that they wouldn’t be able to get back in and mess everything up.

He couldn’t believe May had done something like that. Well. He could, but he didn’t want to. He knew that she wanted him to go back to New York, back to her and Happy, but it hadn’t crossed his mind that she’d actually get involved enough to try to intervene.

He’d thought that maybe she of all people would understand why he was doing it. She had lost so much herself. Maybe she would get it and let him be. Since he was finally truly happy, for the first time in a very long while.

But apparently not. She’d somehow come in without permission, lied to him in order to get him to trust her and then proceeded to try to take him away from the one thing, the one place, the one person that made him feel safe. She obviously didn’t give a fuck about Peter’s actual happiness and well-being. She was just being selfish, not thinking about what he actually wanted but rather what she wanted for him.

He still missed her, though. What she did... really hurt him. He wasn’t going to get over it anytime soon. But he still loved her. He knew that in reality, she was the only living family that he had left. He wished that she could have just understood, could have accepted the choices that he’d made and would continue to make. Maybe they could have even coexisted, in the new world he was creating for them. He could have had his family back, all of them, together and whole, just the way it should have been.

He was doing everything in his power… How was everything still falling apart? The whole point of leaving, of coming to the compound, of not communicating with anyone, was so that he could get away. So that he could have some peace.

And he’d found some, or at least he thought he had.

But his happiness was once again being stolen from him.

He was so tired of having to deal with the utter crock of bullshit that was his life. Fucking Parker luck.

He didn’t want to be in charge anymore.

Maybe he didn’t have to be.

(In the back of his mind, he thought briefly again of the fact that everything he did had spectators, whether he liked it or not. Despite feeling massively uncomfortable, he knew there was nothing he could really do about it, not without having to rewrite part of the program. And there was no way he was going to do that. There was always a small chance that he would lose any existing data. He couldn’t risk losing what he had built with Tony.

If they were going to watch, then…..well, he was going to put on a show.)

***

Peter had decided that he was going to bring his idea up to Tony. Even after thinking about it for a while, he wasn’t sure how to go about it. What was he supposed to say? “Hey Tony, I want you to be my dom?”

If he was being completely honest, that probably would have worked. (In fact, he knew it would have.)

But Peter couldn’t make himself just come out with the words like that. It wasn’t him. That wasn’t how he did things.

So instead, when it was time for Tony to come home from work, and he had gotten himself ready, put on some of the lingerie he’d bought during the honeymoon, Peter positioned himself on the floor in front of the elevator, kneeling on a pillow he’d taken from the couch.

He was only there for a minute or two when the doors opened and out walked his husband, making his heart beat wildly in his chest.

“Peter? Baby, what’s going on? What’s wrong? Why are you in the floor?” He paused, taking in the fact that Peter’s body was clad in only a lace bralette and matching panties, the aegean blue material popping enticingly against his skin. The man blinked, letting his eyes roam over the man’s submissive form before they snapped up to meet his husband’s. “Pete?”

For a moment Peter just sat there, searching Tony’s face. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steel himself for what he was about to do. His gaze met the older man’s once more. “Daddy.”

Eyes flashing, Tony reacted to the title much like Peter had hoped he would, and he recognized the dynamic that the boy was trying to set up. But he still wasn’t sure what was happening. “C’mon, baby, talk to me.”

That was the last thing Peter wanted to do. He shook his head minutely and closed his eyes again, sighing heavily.

Why couldn’t Tony just roll with it? He never had a problem indulging his kinks with no conversation before. They never needed to talk about it. Or so Peter thought. Why was the man insisting that he come out and say it this time?

“If you really want this, I need to hear you say it, Peter.”

“I’m tired,” he said finally, voice soft. “I don’t want to think anymore, I don’t want to think about any of it. I want…” Peter let himself trail off, swallowing. “I want to give control to you, Tony.” He let his eyes meet his husband’s again.

The man watched him for a moment more, face neutral. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him, as his eyes darkened and his stance shifted almost imperceptibly.

But Peter definitely noticed.

Something about the subtle change in his posture made Tony immediately appear more dominant, and Peter felt something deep within himself give. Yes, this was exactly what he wanted. To give himself to Tony, all of himself, until there was nothing left of him that wasn’t Tony’s, too.

A low hum emanated from the taller man’s chest as he crossed his arms, sharp yet caring eyes still trained consideringly on Peter’s kneeling form. “You need Daddy to take care of you, honey? Show you that you don’t have to do everything on your own, that it’s all gonna be okay?”

Peter was nodding before he even realized it. “Please,” he whispered. “Tony, please, yes.”

“Ah-ah,” Tony chided, walking forward a few steps until he was standing right in front of the boy. He reached down, taking Peter’s chin in his hand. His grip was firm, but gentle enough that it didn’t actually hurt. “That’s not my name right now, kid. What do you call me?”

Mouth suddenly dry, Peter swallowed. “Daddy.” The word had the muscles in his lower stomach clenching as he felt that molten heat begin to pool deep inside of him.

Tony smiled down at him as he ran the pad of this thumb over Peter’s bottom lip. “That’s right, baby.”

Peter let his lips part and he pushed his head forward slightly so that the finger entered his mouth. He gently sucked on the digit, enjoying the weight and warmth of it on his tongue.

“Do you trust me, Peter?” Removing his hand, Tony shrugged off his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor and rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up.

“With my life,” Peter said automatically, still staring up at the man with wide eyes.

“Good.” His hands moved to pull at the knot of his tie, feeling the boy’s gaze burning into his skin. The gold of his wedding band glinted in the light. “Now crawl to the bedroom.”

Tony watched as Peter did just that, adjusting his position so that he was on all fours as he began making his way across the entryway and through the living room. A shiver ran through Peter’s body, and Tony knew that the hardwood floor was cold, especially with practically all of his skin exposed.

But he knew that his baby could take it.

Peter would take whatever Tony wanted to give him.

Staying a few paces behind his lover at all times, Tony’s eyes roved over Peter’s ass, watching the way it moved as he began ascending the stairs. He licked at his bottom lip, already imagining all the ways he was going to take his boy apart, break him down until he was begging for Tony to fill him up, to stuff him full of his cock.

The heat of Tony’s eyes on him had Peter’s blood thrumming in his veins as he reached the top step, turning the corner where he could see their bedroom door a few feet away. He felt...anxious, but in a good way. He didn’t know exactly what the older man had planned for him, but he was being honest when he said he trusted Tony.

(He didn’t say that Tony was probably the only person he trusted at this point.

Once they had both made it into the room, Peter now kneeling down on the floor at the foot of the bed, Tony didn’t let the teen out of his sight even as he pushed the door closed, arm extended out behind him. It shut, the sound nearly deafening in the quiet.

Shifting his weight, Tony opened his mouth, making no moves to get closer to his partner at the moment. “How you doing, baby?” The man tried to keep his voice soft, so as to not startle Peter, but as he had already allowed himself to slip pretty far into his dom headspace, he couldn’t completely get rid of the deep, commanding rasp.

Peter swallowed. “I’m okay,” he said quietly, making eye contact for a second before lowering his gaze to his knees, where his hands were loosely clasped.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Just okay?” He paused and ran a hand through his hair, resulting in him looking slightly disheveled. It was at odds with the rest of his put-together appearance. “I’m gonna need more than okay, Pete. What are you thinking? Tell me.”

Eyes wide, not able to explain why he felt so compelled to comply, Peter did. “I’m great, Daddy. I’m just...nervous, I guess. I trust you, more than anything, and I want to know what’ s going to happen. Also I just,” he paused, a flush coming to his cheeks. “I love you so much.”

The older man’s eyes softened, and then he did take a step towards Peter. Then another. “I love you too, Peter.” He kept walking until he was standing right in from his husband, staring down at him, the tips of his shoes not even an inch from the bare skin of Peter’s knees. “Your safeword is ‘rhubarb’, okay baby? Repeat it back to me.”

A hint of a smile tugged at Peter’s lips at the word. He took a deep breath to compose himself before peering up at Tony again and speaking. “My safeword is ‘rhubarb’,” he intoned lightly.

“Good boy.” Something ignited in Tony as he witnessed the other’s reaction to the words. “You like that, don’t you, baby?” As if he didn’t know the answer from the barely audible mewl that escaped his lips and the way the ruddy tinge to his cheeks intensified. “Like knowing that Daddy’s pleased, that he’s happy with you?”

Peter nodded softly. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s all you want, isn’t it baby?” His hands moved to his tie, which was draped over his neck. He pulled it down and held it out in front of him, an end in each hand. “Close your eyes, Peter.”

Obliging after only a moment of hesitation, Peter’s lids fell shut. He sighed at the feeling of the soft, cool silk on the heated skin of his face.

“How does that feel?”

“It’s nice. I like it.” He paused. “There’s no strong smells in here which is nice but I can hear everything. I mean I already could but- This is so much more-”

Tony tutted softly, seeing the way the boy was getting frustrated with himself for rambling a bit, the nervous energy needing some way to escape. “Shhhh, relax baby. You don’t have to think, remember? Turn that little genius brain of yours off for a bit, huh? Let Daddy handle it, I’ll take care of everything, Pete.” He made a point not to touch him, not wanting to overwhelm him any further.

Peter sniffed, his nose twitching. “Okay.” He shifted his posture, rolling his shoulders and leaning to the side a bit to adjust his legs. He focused on the beating of Tony’s heart rather than his own, finding it more reassuring. “Okay,” he repeated, quieter this time, mostly speaking to himself.

Tony let them sit in the quiet for a moment, until he was satisfied that Peter had calmed down. “Good job, baby.” Hands dropping to his waist, Tony began to unfasten his belt. The sound of the metal clink might as well have been a gunshot with the way that Peter jerked. “Easy, kid, it’s just me.” After he pulled the leather through the loops on his pants, he let it drop down to the carpet where it landed with a thud. He undid his button and zipper before pulling his cock out so that he could stroke himself to full hardness.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty, down there on your knees for me,” he groaned. He circled his thumb around the head a few times, spreading the wetness there as he took in the sight before him. “So perfect for Daddy.”

Peter’s nipples had hardened underneath the dark lace and he pressed his thighs together at the sound of Tony’s hand moving over the slick skin of his shaft. Saliva was beginning to pool in his mouth; he could feel the heat of Tony’s erection in front of his face, the deep musk of the man’s scent like a drug to him. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat. “Please,” he whispered.

Now fully hard, Tony grabbed at Peter’s mussed curls with his left hand. He used his right to guide his cock to the boy’s lips, letting the tip rest there before tapping it against them a few times. “Open up, sweetheart.” When Peter did as he was told, Tony let out a deep sigh at the feeling of his mouth suckling on the head.

Peter whined again. His tongue danced around the tip of his husband’s cock and he sucked greedily at the salty fluid there. It was so heady, and he could already feel himself slipping down, bleeding into that space he’d always wondered about. His jaw began to go slack, the rest of his body relaxing in kind.

“There you go, baby,” Tony groaned, starting to cant his hips, pushing himself further into the wet heat of Peter’s mouth. He could tell from the way Peter suddenly went more pliant that he was starting to drop. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

The boy took him readily, even unconsciously reached a hand up in an attempt to find Tony’s hip and pull him closer. He keened in displeasure when Tony gently nudged him away.

“Hey, uh-uh, hands behind your back, kid. No touching.”

Another whine, but the young man once again followed the instruction. He began to bob his head, the lewd sounds of his mouth moving on the slick flesh filling the air.

Tony kept his fingers tangled in Peter’s hair as he cursed under his breath. “*Fuck*, Peter, that’s it baby. So perfect, you suck Daddy’s cock so good.” He started to thrust his hips again, shallowly at first but then getting deeper. When he reached the back of Peter’s throat, the boy’s muscles contracted around him as he gagged, desperately trying to swallow. “Shit, shit,” Tony muttered, eyes slipping shut at the sensation.

When Peter started to tense up, rising on his knees slightly, the man pulled back, leaving him spluttering as he tried to catch his breath. Thick drool was running down his chin as he coughed, and Tony didn’t hesitate before running his dick through it. “Open,” he commanded, scooping some of the liquid up with the pads of his fingers so he could push it back into the boy’s mouth. His cock was quick to follow, immediately going as deep as he could in order to make Peter’s body jerk again. “Swallow.”

Peter did his best, trying not to choke as the muscles in his throat contracted weakly around the intrusion. He tried to focus on breathing through his nose, but he gagged anyway, lurching backwards even though he was unable to get away, tethered by the firm grip of the hand clutching at his head.

Pulling back to let him breath for a moment, the sound of the frantic gasping making him grow impossibly harder, Tony only waited a few seconds before snapping his hips forward again. He fucked gently in and out of Peter’s mouth, praises falling unbidden from his own. “So perfect, Peter, god, you’re perfect. So good for me, kid.”

He could feel himself getting close, too close, after a minute so he roughly pulled Peter from his dick. “Shit, baby, almost made me cum,” he breathed heavily, almost as loud as the boy’s hurried lungfuls of air, and slowly tucked himself back into his slacks, still slick with spit. “You did so good, Peter.” His fingers released Peter’s hair, running through it soothingly a few times instead before moving to the lack of his head to tug at the blindfold.

Peter was firmly in subspace now, so the older man felt that the sensory deprivation wasn’t necessary anymore. And he wanted to see those big brown eyes for what he had planned next.

Kneeling down in front of him, Tony kissed the teen’s forehead and then his lips. His thumb swept over the apple of his cheek. “Hey, baby, can you look at me? How are you doing?”

Said eyes blinked up at him tearily, and Peter sniffled before coughing wetly. “Good,” he said, voice soft and wrecked, only able to meet the man’s gaze for a moment before his eyes fell. They paused on Tony’s clothed erection for a moment until they were trained on his own knees again. He blinked a few times before his mouth opened. “Knees hurt.”

Tony immediately moved, scooped the boy into his arms. “Thank you for telling me,” he said into Peter’s temple, pressing a kiss there before he gently deposited him on the bed. “Lay down for me, honey.” His eyes ran over the slight body sprawled out on top of the sheets, taking in the flush that seemed to cover most of Peter’s skin.

He looked absolutely delicious, slightly dazed with his cock hard and leaking in the dark blue of the lace panties.

Leaning down, Tony pressed gentle pecks over each of Peter’s red kneecaps, then switched to leaving a trail of them up the inside of his thighs.

Peter sighed happily, squirming a bit at the touch. He inhaled sharply when he suddenly felt the heat of Tony’s mouth over his fabric covered erection. “Daddy,” he whimpered, hips automatically twitching up in an attempt to find more stimulation.

“Shhhh,” Tony soothed, pulling away. He rubbed his thumb over this inside of Peter’s ankle. “Think you can kneel again for me, baby?” At Peter’s slight frown, he clarified, smiling softly. “Not on the floor, up here on the bed. Can you do that?” When he received a soft nod in response, he helped get the boy into position before climbing off the bed to rifle through one of the drawers in the nightstand, reassuring Peter that he just needed to grab something.

Peter watched him for a moment, mind drifting. He felt floaty, like he wasn’t quite in his body. It took a lot of effort to wiggle his toes, they felt...far away. Moving his fingers was easier, but it still took a good bit of concentration. Everything was soft, muted, like his head was stuffed full of cotton. Or something thick, like molasses.

It was a feeling that he decided he liked.

Suddenly Tony was back in front of him, stroking his cheek. “There you are, kid. Gonna tie you up now, okay honey?” He waited until Peter made eye contact with him before accepting it as consent, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and beginning to fiddle with the bundle of soft, black rope in his grip.

Peter smiled dopily to himself as he watched how Tony wrapped the silky cords around one hand before unwinding them again.

His gaze stayed on the man’s hands. He trusted those hands with anything. They were strong, capable. He never worried that those hands would hurt him. Not unless he wanted them to.

His eyes snapped up to Tony’s face when the dominant cleared his throat, calling Peter to attention once more.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, not breaking the heated eye contact that followed. He was getting lost in the depths of Tony's dark irises.

Tony hummed softly, fingers sliding against the soft rope that he was holding. “Don’t be, baby. It’s alright. What were you thinking about?” It was asked gently, but was clearly more of a command to answer than just a casual question.

“Your hands,” Peter answered instantly, cheeks heating at how eagerly he responded. He wanted to look away but found himself unable to.

“Uh huh. And what about them?”

“How strong they are. And beautiful. And how much I trust them. How much I trust you,” he whispered. He finally broke the eye contact, face burning. He probably sounded ridiculous.

“Look at me, honey.” Tony watched him, moving closer until he was kneeling on the bed in front of Peter. “I’m so glad you trust me.” He leaned in and pressed a gentle yet firm kiss to the sub’s lips as his hands moved to remove the blue lace from Peter’s chest. “Gonna take this off okay?”

Peter nodded slightly, melting into the kiss and whining when the heat of the other man’s lips left his.

A low chuckle came from Tony when he heard. He let the bralette fall to the floor at the side of the bed. “Sorry, baby. I’ve got something else I need to do before I can keep kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Peter’s bottom lip poked out slightly in a pout, despite his words.

“Thank you. Now, can you work with me here? I’ll need you to stay still for this part. Then we’ll lay you back down to do the rest.”

Peter nodded obediently, fixing his expression as he gazed at his husband.

Tony got to work quickly, staying silent as he focused.

The rope was looped around Peter’s chest, resting snugly on top of his pecs as it was brought back around and secured.

It was wrapped around again, underneath this time. The rope was tight around him, but not enough for it to hurt or even dig into his skin uncomfortably.

All he knew was the firm pressure of the cords around his body, holding onto him. He knew that he felt safe.

His eyes slipped shut as he relaxed, letting Tony artfully secure the silk rope around his body.

He didn’t open them again until he felt the warmth of his partner’s hands pulling away. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been spaced out, peacefully floating in his mind while Tony worked on him.

Tony leaned back to admire his handiwork, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “How does that feel, baby?” It certainly looked gorgeous, the black silk contrasting perfectly against Peter’s pale, lightly freckled skin.

“It’s-“ Peter’s voice was crackly as he started speaking. How long had it been since they started? Much longer than he’d realized, it seemed. “It’s really nice. Tight. But not too tight. Huggy.”

The older man laughed softly, rubbing a finger over one cord. If it was obvious that Peter was deep into subspace after the blowjob, Tony didn’t even know how to describe the boy’s current state. He loved it. It was nice to see him so relaxed and content.

He’d obviously needed someone else to take control of him for a while. And Tony was happy to help. He’d do anything for Peter.

“That’s good, honey. I don’t want it to hurt you. It’s supposed to be calming. Is it working? Do you feel safe?” He couldn’t keep the amused note out of his voice.

Peter nodded sluggishly, like the movement took all his focus. And it honestly did, given how deep he was in his headspace. Everything was soft and warm around the edges and nice.

“Good. Let’s lay you down now, okay? I’ll do your wrists next. Then your feet.” Tony walked the boy through the plan, letting him get used to the idea. He rubbed at his back as he straightened up on his knees, humming. “Not as young as I used to be, huh.” It was more to himself than anything.

“That’s okay, Daddy,” Peter spoke up gently as he moved forward on the bed a bit. It was hard to do so without being able to put his arms out to help steady him, so he was a bit wobbly on his knees, but managed to get to the center of the mattress. “I like you just the way you are.”

Tony chuckled, nodding. “I guess I’m glad for that, huh.” He placed a hand on the small of Peter’s back, helping guide him first into a sitting position, legs out in front of him, and then so that he was laying on his back. “Come on, baby. I know you’re all relaxed and everything, just need you to help me out a little with this.”

Once Peter was settled, he relaxed into the down comforter, content to just watch what the dom was doing.

Tony grabbed the final lengths of rope that he’d need to finish up. One for Peter’s wrists, then two others: one for each of his ankles. Those would be used to tie his feet to the end of the bed, keeping his legs spread. Less calm-inducing than the others, but it was infinitely more functional given his plans.

He took the longer cord first, humming as he tried to think about how he wanted Peter’s hands tied.

Typically he’d go for behind the back, it always had a nice, clean look and made the temptation to touch lessen. It also did a lot for making one feel truly restrained. But he needed the sub to be on his back, so he ultimately decided that his hands would be tied in the front.

He mentally went through the rope work he was planning, wanting to make sure he didn’t overlook anything, before he began executing the action on his husband.

It took only a few minutes for Tony to secure his hands in front of him, before he was moving on to his lower body. He tied the rope around his ankles and feet, so that the pressure wasn’t all in one spot and making the boy sore, and then finished by securing it to the footboard of the bed.

Peter tugged at the bonds slightly when he noticed that Tony was done, looking down at the loops around his ankles from where his head was propped up on the pillows.

He knew that he could easily get out of the restraints if he wanted. But the thing was...he didn’t want to.

He was finally able to give up control, not having to constantly have everything in his grip. He was able to hand it all off to Tony, letting himself relax.

And it was absolutely perfect.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as Tony’s hands started sliding up his sides, stopping when they reached the harness wrapped around him.

“You look amazing, baby,” Tony mused. Then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his sub’s sternum. Right above the place where the harness was divided up the middle and split to loop over Peter’s shoulders.

As he pulled his lips away, his hands came up to cup at Peter’s chest. His pecs were pushed out from the way the rope was tight around them. Tony was entranced.

“Look at these gorgeous tits,” he teased, thumbs quickly swiping over Peter’s peaked nipples.

It caused Peter to flush and shiver, arching up into the slight contact. It was nothing too serious, but he needed it all the same.

“Daddy,” he whined, breath catching in his throat. “Please….”

“Please what?” Tony asked, smirking slightly. “Use your words, kid. What do you want?”

Peter huffed. “Want you to touch me,” he breathed.

Tony’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Oh, is that all? Want me to touch you? Well, baby, I’m sure I can do just that.”

The gleam in his eyes made the teen slightly nervous again, but-

No, maybe nervous was the wrong word. He still couldn’t quite come up with a better description, though. Maybe he was… He was excited. Tony obviously had plans for him. And he still couldn’t wait to know exactly what they were.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he said sweetly.

Tony hummed softly, quickly pinching one of Peter’s nipples before withdrawing his touch entirely. “You remember that, okay? You wanted me to touch you. Acted like you’d die without it.”

Peter whimpered at the sharp stimulation and then again at its absence, hips rocking up unconsciously. “I’ll remember, Daddy, promise.”

“Good. I think it’s about time we start.” He paused for a moment, sitting back as he looked over his boy. “You remember your safeword?”

He shook his head as Peter nodded. “I need you to tell me what it is, kid. So I know that you know.”

Another little huff, the teen squirming impatiently. “It’s ‘rhubarb’, Daddy. Please-”

Tony smiled. "Alright, baby, thank you." Reaching out, he caressed Peter's cheek before leaning down to press their lips together. He let his tongue swipe over the teen's bottom lip and he was instantly granted access.

Peter mewled when Tony’s tongue licked at his own, body going boneless when a hand also began to apply a gentle but firm grip on his neck. He could feel the metal of Tony’s wedding ring. The soft, plaintive sounds just kept coming while Tony explored his mouth and a punched out little gasp left him when he suddenly found himself under the pressure of the man’s bodyweight. Without his permission, his hips jerked forward, desperately seeking more friction than the snug press of the lace panties against his leaking cock. The differing textures of Tony’s shirt and pants sent a shiver down his spine, and while the pace of his rutting was slow, the amount of force behind it increased.

Breathing heavily, Tony pulled back for a minute and turned his head so that he could mouth wetly at the side of his husband’s neck. He sucked a bruise into the skin there, drinking up the high, whines that the action elicited from Peter. “That’s it, baby, you gonna use Daddy’s body to get off?” He let out a groan when Peter’s erection slid against his own where it lay trapped in his briefs and suit pants.

Nodding, the boy shifted as he tried to move his limbs to wrap around Tony’s neck and waist. He cried out softly when he couldn’t, pulling at his restraints. “Daddy,” he whined, voice thin. “I want- I need-”

“Shhhh,” Tony soothed, lips capturing Peter’s again before pulling away, a strand of spit connecting them. “I know what you need, Peter.” He licked filthily into the teen’s open mouth. His dick throbbed at the way Peter went boneless underneath him again, offering himself up and letting Tony explore his mouth in a way that was truly indecent.

Their bodies undulated against each other as they made out, and Tony could tell that the younger man was getting close by the way his muscles would clench every couple of seconds.

He ground down against the soft, pliant body on the mattress, groaning. “Fuck, baby,” he breathed, looking into Peter’s moony eyes as the boy rutted desperately against his abdomen. “You’re so perfect, Peter, so beautiful. Shit, c’mon kid, make yourself cum for Daddy. C’mon baby.”

“Ahhhhh,” Peter whined, squeezing his eyes shut. “Daddy, please, gonna- I’m gonna-,” the words were cut off by a choked gasp as he tensed, toes curling. Still trapped in the panties, and in between their bodies, his cock jumped in its confines, hot spurts of sticky cum pooling underneath the head and smearing with his movements.

Tony could feel a wet patch forming on his thigh and he moaned low in his throat, his own erection almost painfully hard. But this wasn’t about him, it was all for Peter. He’d get his turn eventually. “Good boy, Peter,” he whispered roughly, pressing kisses wherever he could reach, taking in the blissed out look on his boy’s face.

“Daddy,” he sighed, heart thumping wildly in his chest. Peter’s body continued shuttering through the aftershocks, hips twitching up weakly as Tony pulled away.

After one more kiss, Tony started sitting up again to look over the teen’s body. His mouth watered at the sight of the cum against the lace covered hipbone, and the corresponding stain on the dark fabric of his pants. He ran a hand lightly over his own cock, adjusting it. “How did that feel, baby? Happy now?”

“Mhm….” he mumbled, again going limp against the bed. He felt like he was melting, disappearing like wet spun sugar. Everything felt slow. “Jus’ what I wanted, so good Daddy….” but he couldn’t deny that he still wanted more. He wanted his Daddy’s hands on him, possessive and guiding. Although he already felt the sensitivity creeping in, making him think that maybe waiting for a little bit before going again would be a good idea.

“Uh huh. That’s good, honey. You were so good for me, Peter.” Tony’s fingers trailed up Peter’s thigh, watching the muscles flex and tense underneath his touch. “But I’m not done with you yet, kid.”

Peter made a confused noise in the back of his throat before he started whining as his Daddy’s fingers brushed over his slowly softening cock. He arched his back, pushing his ass down into the bed in a fruitless attempt to get away from the touch. “Daddy, too much.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. He didn’t move his hand away, since Peter didn’t safeword, but he did pause, not doing anything more. “Too much? Do you need to use your word?”

The teen slowly shook his head, breathing hard. He didn’t want Tony to stop. He was just sensitive and he knew that the feeling would only increase.

“Okay, baby. If you’re sure.” He hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of Peter’s panties, slowly starting to tug them down his thighs. He grinned at the sight of the teen’s flushed cock laying against his hip, skin slick with streaks of cum. “You look gorgeous, Peter. You know that?” He brushed over the half-hard length, chuckling at how the boy twitched. “I know, I’m sorry. But I’m just doing what you wanted.”

Peter figured that was right. He had wanted to be touched. He should have known that was going to come back to bite him in the ass. A soft whine left him as Tony’s fingers started massaging his cock back to hardness. Although it didn’t take much.

“There we go...I knew you could go again. With that incredible recovery period of yours,” he teased.

Suddenly his touch was gone and Peter squirmed, hips rocking again. But he stilled when he noticed what Tony was doing.

The older man started with a chaste kiss to his lips, trailing presses of his lips down the teen’s body slowly. He moved down the bed as he worked, settling between Peter’s thighs with his lips on his hip bone. Hardly an inch away from where Peter wanted him.

Peter’s cock twitched against his stomach, like it was trying to reach Tony’s mouth. “Daddy….”

“Uh uh,” Tony chided, blowing a gentle breath across the sub’s damp skin. “You stay still. I’m doing things at my pace, you need to be patient.”

Dropping his head back against the pillows, Peter let out a shaky breath. He had a feeling that it would be a long night.

[maddrmatt]

A Beautiful Future: A Premonition or a Punishment? (SoKai Week 2021)

New to this fanfic? Click here to properly begin!

Greetings, readers and fellow SoKai fans!

Let’s continue on with the show as our favorite MIA Keyblade wielder reflects on what was seen in the last chapter!  Enjoy!

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Chapter 2: Ponderings of the Lost Hero

Quadratum

After opening his eyes, Sora suddenly leapt to his feet.  He summoned his Keyblade and surveyed his surroundings.

Fortunately for him, he wasn’t currently in any danger.  But much to his dismay, he was not in a chapel in Radiant Garden about to kiss the love of his life.  Instead, he was standing next to a large dumpster in an alleyway between two tall buildings.

‘I must’ve been so tired from running that I fell asleep when I stopped to rest,’ he thought as he dismissed his Keyblade.

Sora’s current location was hardly an ideal place to take a nap.  But the Gigas and the various adversaries that inhabited this world had kept him on the run since his arrival.  Also, even though he had yet to encounter him again, he feared that Yozora would find him and try to ‘save’ him again.  So, he couldn’t be picky about where or when he could sleep.

It still mystified him that he was now in a world that he had originally thought only existed in a video game.  When that girl in the Final World had mentioned she was waiting for a Yozora to find her, he had assumed that she had been talking about someone with the same name.  But his encounter with Yozora and the very real existence of this world had certainly raised a few questions.

‘I may have been here for a long time now, but I still can’t believe it. How can this world be real and also be a video game in a world back in my Realm?  And why is ending up here the penalty for misusing the Power of Waking?’

But the biggest question was the one that had bothered him the most.  ‘And will I ever be able to leave?’

Sora’s thoughts now turned what he just had witnessed in his sleep.  ‘That was some dream.  The first dream I’ve been able to have since I got here.  But I wonder if it wasn’t just a dream.  What if it was a premonition?  A vision of the future?  Dreams can do that, right?’

Sora began to pace around the alley.  ‘It certainly looked and felt like one.  I mean, we all did look a little older.  Not to mention I saw that Pinocchio wasn’t a puppet and the Beast wasn’t, well, the Beast anymore.  And there were so many guests at the wedding that I didn’t know.’

He thought back to the part of the dream where he walked down the aisle toward the altar.  Now that he was awake, he realized that there were indeed quite a lot of unrecognized faces among those he knew.

‘Let’s see.  When I saw the group from Atlantica in the crowd, Ariel was human again even though the last time I saw her, she was a mermaid.  Also, it seems that some magic was needed for Flounder and King Triton to attend since they were hovering in the air as if they were still underwater. And then there was that girl who resembled Ariel but with black hair.  Did Ariel and Prince Eric get married and have a daughter?’

‘It also looked like there had been some big changes in Arendelle too. Anna had been wearing an outfit similar to what Elsa had been wearing when Donald, Goofy and I had first met her. And speaking of Elsa, she was not only wearing a different snow gown and had let her hair go, but she also looked more at peace with herself then I last remembered.  Plus, she also had a small blue lizard on her shoulder.  I wonder if she’s taken on Rapunzel’s taste in animal sidekicks.’

‘Woody, Buzz and the rest of the toys we met were there and they had all been enlarged to human size.  And there were some other toys with them, probably their friends they’d been separated from when the Organization split their world.  Like that redhaired cowgirl and that woman with the pink bow in her blonde hair and dressed in blue.  Strangely, she looked like she was made of porcelain which is an unusual material for a toy.  They both seemed to be pretty close to Buzz and Woody respectively.  Also, there was that unusual toy that looked more like a child’s art project.’

‘Little Chef was definitely in some unfamiliar company.  He was with that redheaded man with that woman with brown hair as well as that older man with glasses.  And there were also two other rats: one with gray fur and that pudgier one with brown fur.  Maybe they were Little Chef’s relatives.’

‘I’m glad that Cloud finally made it home because he was among Leon, Yuffie and the rest of the committee and it seemed that he and Tifa had hooked up. And they weren’t the only ones. Leon had his arm around a woman with black hair and Aerith was with a man who looked a little like Cloud only with black hair.  Even Cid apparently had a date: that woman with auburn hair and glasses.  And then there were the new faces: that big, muscular guy whose hand appeared to be made of metal and the little girl in pink on his shoulder as well as that strange catlike creature with red fur.

‘It also looks like I ended up in meeting them in Shibuya after all since I also saw Neku and his friends there as well.  But there were some missing from that group.  Rhyme and that boy she called Beat was there.  But Joshua wasn’t.  And neither was Shiki.  Instead, there was only that girl with brown hair and glasses.  I hope nothing bad happened to them.’

‘There were even some unfamiliar faces among Queen Minnie, Daisy, and the rest I remember from Disney Castle.  There was that unusual pair who looked like a rabbit and a cat with a whole bunch of little rabbits with them.  And then there was that female duck who looked like she could be Donald’s twin sitting near his nephews.   There was also someone who looked like a younger version of Goofy accompanied by a female dog with red hair and apparently, some who looked like a younger version of Pete.’

Then Sora realized it was not just the unfamiliar guests that stood out in the dream.  His own thoughts during the dream contained information that he had not known before.

‘How could I have known why Xion looks the way she does?  And though Master Yen Sid mentioned that Aqua saved Kairi long ago, my thoughts implied that she played a big role in our meeting. I’m sure I would’ve learned it all if I hadn’t disappeared.  But is it possible for your dream self to know something that you don’t?’

Sora leaned against the wall of the building and gazed out into the empty street.  There was still no sign of incoming trouble.  He was glad that nothing had shown up during his pondering on account that he still had more to do.

‘All in all, it certainly was quite a show.  But still, I can’t help but wonder why a dream like that would come to me now?  And if it really was a vision of the future, does it mean that I’m going to make it back home?  And Kairi and I really are destined to live happily ever after?’ Sora thought as a feeling of hope came to him.

Unfortunately, the hope faded as a troubling thought took over.  ‘Or maybe it’s a future that isn’t going to happen. Maybe it’s nothing more than extra punishment for breaking rules I never knew existed.’

Sora thought back to when he returned to the Final World after Xehanort’s defeat. He recalled how Chirithy had told him about what he was risking using the Power of Waking to restore Kairi.  As he remembered that conversation, a feeling of anger at the unfairness of it all came to him.

“I never meant to break any nature taboos.  I didn’t even know they existed.  I thought I was just rescuing my friends from that Lich Heartless.  I didn’t know it would end up rewriting time and giving us another chance to fight.  And I especially didn’t know that it was the wrong thing to do,” he said out loud not caring if anybody heard him.

That’s when Sora realized something.  “If I’m being punished for doing that, does that mean that we were supposed to lose no matter what we did?  Well, to whoever or whatever decided that, I’m sorry but if following your rules meant letting Xehanort win after everything he did, then I was happy to break them.”

His thoughts then turned to Kairi.  “And I definitely was not going to leave the girl I love more than anything in the worlds as she was: shattered, split and scattered.  If there was any chance to save her, I would have taken it no matter what the consequences.  Because a world without Kairi is one I never want to live in.”

That’s when Sora realized the sad irony.  ‘And yet, a world without her or any of my friends is exactly where I ended up anyway.  I guess the punishment really did fit the crime in the end.  And as if that wasn’t enough, it seems I’m now being tormented with visions of a future that may never be.’

Then a feeling of determination came over Sora. ‘No. I can’t think like that.  I won’t ever think like that.  If whatever forces sent me here sent that dream to punish me further, then I’m not going to give them the satisfaction.’

Sora gazed up at the dark sky and cried out, “It’s not going to work!  You hear me?  It won’t work!  Instead, I’m going to use what I saw in that dream to further fuel my desire to get back to my home!  Back to my friends!  Back to her so we can have a future like that in the dream!”

The young hero then reached into the pocket of his jacket nearest his heart. He pulled out a folded piece of paper which he then unfolded revealing the lucky charm that Kairi had given to him before he and Riku left for the Mark of Mastery Exam.

Taking the charm into his hand, he clutched it to his heart.  ‘We may be worlds apart, Kairi.  But our hearts are still connected.  I realized that when I was suddenly able to fight for you. Even though I didn’t know exactly what was going on, especially how somehow Xehanort was still around, I knew you needed me.  And I know that connection will bring us back together someday.’

“They can take your world.  They can take your heart.  Cut you loose from all you know.  But if it’s your fate, then every step forward will always be a step closer to home. And it will be my fate.  And whatever that dream’s true purpose was, I will do all that I can to make it our fate, Kairi.  That’s a promise and I always keep my promises to you.  It’s my oath to return,” Sora said out loud.

After gazing once more around for any sign of trouble and seeing that there was none in spite of his earlier outbursts, he figured that he had time to do one more thing before moving on to a new location in the city.  Leaning against the wall with the lucky charm in one hand, he then looked at the paper that it had been wrapped in.  

He began to read the words written on the paper.  Words that no matter how many times he read had always managed to touch his heart because they came from the one who his heart belonged to.

“Thinking of you, wherever you are.”

________________________________________________________________

On the edge of one of Quadratum’s tall buildings, a man in a black coat gazed downward into the alley.  He watched the spiky-haired brunette boy read from his letter.  Under his hood, he smirked and let out an amused chuckle.

“You might wish to keep it down, Sora.  You never know who or what may be listening here in Quadratum.  But it sounds like that was a pretty good dream you had with the way you were going on about making it a reality.  Your determination to get back to your home and your devotion to your girl are pretty admirable.  They will serve you well when the time comes for you to play your role,” said the Master of Masters.

The very first Keyblade master gazed up to the sky. As he had done before, he brought his hands together into a heart shape and held them up so he could view the full moon through them.

“Soon, all the pieces will fall into place, Sora. My apprentices.  The Union leaders and Dandelions who still exist.  The Darknesses.  Yozora.  Your friend Riku and the rest of your Guardians of Light over on the other side including your little girlfriend.  All of them have their roles to play in my grand plan and once they are fulfilled, we will finally see the absolute end of the true Keyblade War,” he declared.

Then his voice took on an ominous tone.  “But after all is said and done, will all your devotion pay off?  Will the dreams of a ‘happily ever after’ with your beloved Kairi come true?  Or will the fates conspire to pull you apart once again? And if that should happen, will it be the ultimate separation, one that is impossible to undo?”

The Master then parted his hands and shrugged his shoulders.  “Who knows? I may be the author of a very large compendium of future events.  But the Book of Prophecies never accounted for everything. So, in the end, who can really say?”

The Master then returned his gaze back to the young Keyblade wielder in the alley.  Sora had finished reading his letter and was now staring to leave.  The Master’s gaze followed the boy as he headed out into the city.

“Things may have taken a… slight turn from my original plans.  But the more I think about it, it actually makes things more interesting.  After ages of watching events unfold the way I had foreseen; I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to actually be surprised.  And I have a feeling, Sora, that you are going to be full of surprises.”

________________________________________________________________

Notes from the Mad Doctor:

Went rather heavy on the internal monologuing in this chapter, huh?

Sharp Disney and Square Enix fans will likely know the unfamiliar guests Sora was talking about.  Feel free to let me know if you did recognize all of them or some of them.

I think we can understand the anger Sora’s expressing here.  After everything he did to protect the worlds from Xehanort, this is his ultimate reward?  I know he doesn’t regret doing what he did to save everyone especially Kairi. But I wouldn’t blame him for being upset.

Although I have mentioned him in my other stories, this is the first time the Master of Masters has actually shown up.  I really hope I wrote his mysterious yet eccentric demeanor well.  And I have a feeling, given the Master’s presence in Quadratum, that Sora’s arrival in this world was no coincidence.  Then again, is anything a coincidence in Kingdom Hearts?

I give my thanks to whoever reads this chapter.

I also give my special thanks to @fandomchanger, @dreaming-in-seams, and @sakuranekogirl​ for their likes on the previous chapter as well as @sokaiweek, @phoenix-downer​, and @the-secret-place​ for reblogging the previous chapter.

The next chapter still needs work so it should be posted on Thursday if all goes well.

Comments, likes and reblogs are much appreciated!  Stay tuned for we’ll be dropping in on the other half of our favorite couple next chapter!

________________________________________________________________

Onto the next chapter!

[aire101]

Ferrum Ch. 6

Link to Master Post

They were being over run.

For every monster Peter took down, two more took their place.

This was a mistake— they never should have come here. And it was all his fault.

“Peter! Get out of here!” yelled Tony from across the room, where he was dealing with his own hoard.

“No! I’m not leaving!” Peter yelled back.

“Damnit Kid! We can’t beat this on our own! You’ve gotta go!”

“I’M NOT LOSING YOU AGAIN!” screamed Peter as he slashed through the last monster in his immediate vicinity. He needed to get to Tony, something was about to happen, he just knew it.

He spun around seeing Tony faced off with two monsters. He was smiling a pain-filled smile. Almost like when—

“You’re not losing me kid, because I’m—”

Tony’s eyes widened as a blade ran through him from behind, where another monster stood hidden in the shadows.

“I’m… Iron Man.”

Peter couldn’t breath.

He tried to walk forward but his feet wouldn’t move.

He needed to move. Tony hadn’t disappeared yet. If he could just get there before…

Tony fell to his knees, his hand held up in front of his face, which was contorted in confusion. As Peter watched, lines of burning energy began coursing through Tony’s body.

“Why Peter… why didn’t you tell me…? Why didn’t you help…?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I tried!” sobbed Peter as he too fell to the ground.

“It’s ok, Peter,” came a familiar, soft voice from beside him.

Peter slowly looked to the side, and there knelt Aunt May.

“Aunt May, I tried… But I couldn’t and he’s gone. I can’t…”

“It’s ok, baby,” she said, her hand gently running through his hair. “I know you tried. It’s just that everyone you love dies. That’s just the way it is.”

Her words were like a knife directly to his heart. They hurt. More so because they were true.

All around him stood his loved ones— Ned, MJ, Happy, Mrs. Leeds and Angie, his parents.

Uncle Ben.

They stood there with sad smiles on their face.

Until they shattered into polygons.

“Why?! Why do they leave?” cried Peter.

“You know why Peter… Everyone leaves,” said May, before she too shattered into nothing.

—————

Peter woke with a start.

Waking from nightmares was always an awful experience, but now that he was regularly sharing a room with someone it was especially stressful. He couldn’t let Tony know how bad his dreams were. If he knew that, he’d press into what they were about.

And he couldn’t explain that. Not without admitting to a lot of half-truths and lies.

So he just laid on his bed while his nerves and emotions roiled. Experience told him trying to go back to sleep was pointless, but getting up risked waking Tony—

Peter looked towards the other bed, only to sit up in confusion when he saw the bed empty.

Where was Tony?

Peter checked the lower left corner of his display for the Aincrad local time… definitely the middle of the night.

Concern about questions related to his nightmare was replaced with concern over Tony’s whereabouts, so Peter slipped on his shoes and stepped out into the hall of the inn.

Despite the late (early?) hour, the tavern down below still held a decent amount of people. A handful were slumped over on the table, obviously looking for a warm place to sleep but unable to afford a room. Others sat together over glasses of ale talking amicably into the night. But he found Tony sitting over by the hearth alone, helmet on and nursing what looked like a cup of that coffee drink they called ‘kaf.’ After their trip back to the Town of Beginnings a few days ago, Tony had gone asking around about where he could get his hands on the ingredients to make the stuff. Turns out getting the ingredients was the easy part, actually making a decent cup of the stuff required some points in the cooking skill. Despite that, Tony continued to make and drink his awful concoctions.

For a moment Peter considered just going back up to their room. But the thought of going back and lying restlessly in bed was as unappealing as sleep itself.

“Hey, you know that stuff won’t actually wake you up, right?” said Peter as he plopped down in the chair across from Tony.

“Just like the alcohol can’t make you drunk,” said Tony. If he was surprised by Peter’s appearance he didn’t show it.

“Wonder what the point is in incorporating them at all then,” said Peter.

“They’re habits. Good or bad, people depend on habits. Just another thing to lull us into a sense of normalcy. If we’re in here long enough, people will probably start to forget that they’re trapped in a digital prison, and begin to wonder why we’re fighting to get out,” said Tony, before taking another sip.

“Hmm,” hummed Peter, before settling into quiet, staring into the flames of the fireplace.

They sat there in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, before it was broken by Tony’s voice, soft with question.

“Are you sure about this Pete? Word is a good two thirds of the dungeon is explored already, but several hundred have died in the last few days doing so.”

Peter didn’t answer immediately. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure about it. In typical form, his hesitance had little to do with his own safety and everything to do someone else’s.

The memory of his dream and a creature running Tony through with a blade from behind returned.

No. Peter Parker wasn’t sure at all.

But Spider-man… Spider-man knew what needed to be done, and he did it.

He had managed to keep Tony from taking any hits so far, he would just have to keep doing it. He would get better. Faster. Stronger.

He would get them out of this game, and then he would find their answers as to where Tony was and how he had come to be in this game. Did Ms. Potts— er, Mrs. Stark know he was still alive? If so, why hide it?

“Considering our uh… RL life choices, there’s a pretty good chance of us dying on any given day,” said Peter, trying not to choke on the words, memories of blood and stones and ash rising. “I’d rather die doing the best I can to help others than sit around watching others die instead. It’s what I’d do in the real world, so its what I should do here. We’ve talked about this. All the way to Tolbana, in fact.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Tony, in the same uncharacteristically soft tone.

“How about you? Just because I’ve decided to work on clearing the game doesn’t mean you have to. I could probably find a clearing party to join up with. I’ve heard a few parties talk about setting up guilds even,” said Peter, with mixed feelings. On one hand, he really didn’t like the idea of letting Tony too far out of his sight. On the other, if he stayed back Peter would probably worry less about keeping Tony alive and could focus more on his own battles.

Tony scoffed at the idea though, so Peter guessed that was out.

“There’s no way in hell I’m sending you off into that labyrinth without me,” Tony replied.

“Well, guess that settles it then,” said Peter with finality.

“Right. Well, I guess I’ll go and check our equipment before we head out, since we’re both awake. Unless you want to try and go back to sleep?” asked Tony, standing up and slipping down his visor.

“Nah, I’m awake. So we can head out whenever. You did sleep some, right?” asked Peter as he stood as well.

“I slept as much as I need to,” answered Tony evasively.

Peter rolled his eyes. Tony’s sleeping habits in the game were as bad as they were outside of it.

“Ok, I’ll go pack up then.”

—————

The floor one labyrinth was a cavernous maze of halls and chambers crawling with Kobold Troopers— the first humanoid monsters they had come across in the game. Unlike the previous creature types, they could use sword skills like players and NPCs. This made Peter's 'don't let Tony take any hits' job far more complicated than he had expected.

"Damn it, kid! Stop taking my hits! You're going to get yourself killed!"

"No I won't, I'm careful about keeping an eye on my HP," responded Peter as he swallowed down a potion.

"You wouldn't have to keep such a close eye on your HP if you would just stop throwing yourself into hits!"

“Well, if you would stop getting yourself into positions where you’re going to get hit, maybe I wouldn’t need to! You’re not in an impenetrable armor anymore,” Peter grouched back. But as soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.

He couldn’t see most of Tony’s face through the helmet’s visor, but he could tell by the tightening in his posture that the words had hit harder than he had intended.

Peter sighed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not the reason I’m getting hurt. But you really do need to stop leaving your back open. You can’t take hits in a fight like you’re used to, and there’s no FRIDAY to keep an eye on it. Just me.”

For a moment Tony didn’t answer, but eventually he nodded.

“No, you’re right. I’m used to having a margin of error in a fight because of the strength of my armor or FRIDAY having my back. I’m not used to being so squishy when I fight. Rogers used to gripe at me about the same thing,” said Tony. “Which was pretty hypocritical on his part considered how he threw himself into things— I guess I’m not too surprised about that at this point— but the fact still remains true. Sorry, I should be better at this than I am—”

“I don’t want an apology. And I know habits are hard to break. Just… try to keep more of an eye on it?”

“I will, but I also want you to stop taking all the hits. We’re both about the same level, so I can take a few as well, you know. I won’t shatter on contact,” chuckled Tony, though Peter could tell it was forced.

The visual of Tony shattering into polygons wouldn’t leave Peter’s mind.

“No promises, so you better keep up your guard,” muttered Peter, before he started walking further into the labyrinth.

From behind him he could hear Tony sigh in exasperation, but he followed along at Peter’s back.

In every RPG Peter had ever played, when you ‘entered the dungeon’ you traveled down through floors until you found the boss room. In SAO’s labyrinth it was all an up-hill journey with no definitive floor levels, plenty of trick rooms, and not a soul to be seen. He had snagged the map data from a large group of Clearers he’d met in the pub their first night in town, but even with four more days of exploring it, there were still massive chunks of blank spaces. One of which they were mapping out now, and five hours in they had yet to stumble on another player. All Peter could say was that they had to be nearing the top of the column soon. Or at least he hoped so. Enough people had died in here already.

The halls were mostly silent as they trekked through the labyrinth passages, the only sounds Peter could hear was the soft echo of their footsteps.

Eventually they came upon a turn into another hall, and as soon as Peter saw what lay beyond, he froze.

It was the Boss Room. It had to be. Rough hewn stone walls were replaced with smooth slate, and the double door set into the wall before him was like nothing they had seen in the labyrinth yet. Three times the height of an average person, ornate lattice scroll work ran from top to bottom down the middle of each door, with a central metal push plate featuring two intertwined serpents.

Tony came around to his side and gave a relieved sigh before pulling up his map. “Finally, I’ll update our map data with a notation.”

Peter nodded absently feeling lightheaded. They had actually done it. They had found the boss room. Just a little longer and they would move to the next floor…

And once they had proven they could… Maybe things would get better.

Peter smiled and turned to ask Tony if he wanted to head back to town now…

That’s when he heard it. The faintest sound of the shuffle of feet from the darkness.

“Mob!” shouted Peter, drawing his sword just as the first Troopers rushed them from the shadows.

Tony quickly switched into fighting stance, drawing his two-handed sword and parrying a Trooper’s slash away.

As Peter jumped into the fray, he tried to do a head count.

One—two—three…

Four—Five—Six…

Definitely outnumbered, but so long as he kept an eye on them it should be fine.

Vertical— horizontal— slant—

The trooper burst into polygons. From the corner of his eye he could see Tony disperse of another trooper.

As they fought, on habit the two of them drifted together until they were back to back.

A well placed sword swing shattered another kobold, only for another to take it’s place, its barbaric hand axe coming in for a hit.

Peter wasn’t quite quick enough and the hit landed, taking some of his HP down with it. Peter would not give the kobold another chance at a hit, and in a few moments it was dispersed just like the rest.

Over all, the kobolds were not especially difficult. But for every one Peter felled another took its place…

Then another.

And another.

This was far more than the six he had originally counted… they just kept coming.

Just like his dream…

He couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t. It was just a dream.

‘Everyone leaves.’

His next strike hit a little harder than he meant, causing the kobold he was fighting to shatter but also causing him to stumble forward away from Tony, allowing a kobold to step into place between them.

Fear froze him as he saw the kobold raise it’s axe overhead, coming in for a direct hit on Tony, who was turned away, unawares.

“TONY! BEHIND—!” screamed Peter, trying to get to Tony.

It was like slow motion. Tony turned, but the axe was nearly on him already. He wouldn’t be able to block. He wouldn’t be able to move.

No, no, no… he couldn’t do this again, he couldn’t—!

“DON’T TOUCH HIM—!” Peter cried, as he slashed his sword wildly.

He couldn’t reach him in time!

The axe struck true.

But it was stopped by a purple polygon with an identification tile that read ‘Immortal Object.’

For a moment Peter’s mind went ‘blue screen’ while it tried to compute what he was seeing.

Tony on the other hand didn’t seem to pause for a second, rather he threw himself with abandon into the throes of the fight, no longer bothering with attempts at defense, letting each hit bounce off the strange shield that apparently kept hits from connecting.

Peter pulled himself together, swallowing down a potion before returning to the fray. After a few more rounds the waves of the mob tapered off until only Peter and Tony were left standing.

Well, standing was relative. As soon as the mob was finished Peter sunk down to the ground, his head in his hands as the mental fatigue of the battle along with all the ones before it came crashing down on him.

Immortal Object.

“Come on kid, we need to get out of here. There’s no telling what the re-spawn rate is this close to the Boss Room door,” said Tony, putting a hand under Peter’s arm to pull him up.

Peter stood up and followed along as directed, keeping one hand on Tony as they went. Every now and then they would come across a pair of Troopers, but Tony easily dispatched them and they continued on their way.

Peter wasn’t sure how long they had been walking, but at some point he realized he could hear the sound of voices up ahead.

As they turned a bend a party of players came into sight. The player at the head of the group was a man with blue hair, dressed in bronze armor with a longsword at his hip.

“Hey!” called Tony, waving them over.

Most of the group eyed with some suspicion, but the blue haired one walked over, a small but amicable smile on his face.

“Yes, do you need help?” he asked politely.

“Nah, we’re alright. You’re part of one of the larger clearing parties, aren’t you?” asked Tony.

“Yes, in fact I’m the leader of the group. My name is Diavel,” he answered.

“Good. Look, we found the Boss Room up ahead.”

That certainly got their attention. Diavel’s eyes widened for a moment and his face lost its politeness and settled into a more serious gaze. He glanced at Peter, who knew he was showing obvious signs of exhaustion.

“We didn’t open it so I’m not sure what’s inside, and we were swarmed by a large Trooper mob right afterward,” Tony said, answering the unspoken question. “If you open your map I’ll give the info to you.”

Diavel nodded, opening up his map. A few taps later and the exchange was done.

“We will go back quickly and start gathering a raiding party this afternoon. Should I expect to see you there?”

“No, I don’t think so. Just make sure this info gets out,” said Tony, a hand Peter’s shoulder as he starts to move away.

“I will see it done,” said Diavel, with a nod. “Everyone, lets hurry back to town! There’s work to be done!”

And with that the group turned and ran, presumably back towards the entrance to the labyrinth.

“Alright, that’s done. If you need to stop we’ll stop, but otherwise we’re going to keep going until we’re back at the inn. Don’t worry about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other, I’ll take care of rest,” said Tony, as they began to walk in the same direction.

Peter did as he was told, and put one foot in front of the other.

Step, step, step…

Immortal Object.

Step, stumble, step…

“I can’t remember things passed a certain point…”

“The last thing I remember is the meeting with Kayaba…”

What did it all mean…

Step, step, step…

“I’m thinking of skipping on meals for a while. I’m kinda curious how long it takes to actually start feeling hungry in here.”

Put one foot in front of the other, Parker. Almost there…

“I slept as much as I need to.”

Immortal Object—Immortal Object—Immortal Object—

AI Development

Peter stopped.

Peter couldn’t help but wonder… Was she aware of what she was?

No. No way. No fucking way—

“The problem was that in order to do further development and testing it would require me to deep dive into their systems, and for reasons I’ve discussed with you earlier today I was entirely unwilling to open myself up to that.”

“Peter… Hey, are you alright?” asked Tony, a worried crease in his brow that was so familiar. “Are you still with me, kid?”

Was it even possible? Who was he kidding, if anyone could figure it out it would have been him. But then how did it— he— end up here?

“Ok, now you’re really starting to scare me kid.”

Unbidden, the memory of the mural from the night he entered SAO came back to him.

Slowly, Peter started to take steps again.

“Good, that’s good. One step at a time and we’ll get there,” said Tony.

Peter did as he was told, and he slowly made his way out of the labyrinth while trying to come to terms with a fact he couldn’t look away from.

Mr. Stark was dead. He always had been.

Tony was an AI.

[the-mad-starker]

Starker Fic: Something More

Something different from me but I got into an angsty mood.

Summary: Omega Peter admitting to Alpha Tony that he's asexual.

WC: 943

Rating: T?

This fic title makes absolutely no sense but I felt it was right because I feel like when thinking about asexuality, it's perceived as lacking (lacking in sex is probably the most obvious) and that's not the message I wanted to send.

💗💗💗

It took a while for Peter to tell him but he knew that when Tony's hands started wandering, he had to.

"Tony– wait–" Peter pulled away from the kiss, squirming uncomfortably on the couch.

As expected, the older man's brows scrunch up in concern.

"Oh, right," Tony said, a bit chagrined but not at all upset that Peter pulled away. "Slow. Right. I'm sorry, baby."

And that was what broke Peter's heart. Tony was such a good boyfriend, a wonderful alpha… He didn't blink an eye when Peter asked for things to go at a slow steady pace.

And that was what made this so hard.

Tony was the best thing that had ever happened to Peter. He was his mentor, his partner… His alpha.

The fear of losing Tony was right there in the back of his mind and it made his heart pound in a very not good way. Could he manage to drag this out? Could he just… go with it in order to not lose Tony? Would it be so bad if it was someone he loved?

"Baby…! What's wrong?" Alarm had Tony's voice pitched high in worry. Those loving hands cupped his face and it was only then that Peter realized he was crying silent tears.

He hastily wiped them away, mumbling apologies. He couldn't look Tony in the eye.

"M sorry, I–" Peter stumbled. The admission was there but could he risk saying it?

Tony pulled him into an embrace. This was different from before when they had been making out on the couch, soft lingering kisses that made alarms start to sound in the back of Peter's mind.

This was safe. This was his alpha holding him, crooning soft comforting murmurs into his ear. Tony's arms were wrapped around him and there wasn't a hint of sexual arousal in his scent.

This was safe.

Peter sniffled and hung on tight and when his scent finally smoothed over, Tony still held him.

"I didn't mean to rush you, Pete," Tony apologized, "all you gotta do is tell me to stop and I will. I don't wanna do anything you don't like."

Now, now, now… His own voice whispered in his mind. He should tell Tony now. A lump was in his throat and the desire to hide this, even now, was insistent.

"What if… I don't like it," Peter whispered, fingers curled in Tony's shirt. "If I don't want… that…"

He felt Tony's reaction. The way the alpha's body stiffened, the way his hands slowed on their soothing circle on his back… Peter felt that sinking feeling in his stomach and he felt nauseous.

He shouldn't have…

Tony pulled away and Peter let him but instead of the alpha pushing him away, Tony's hands remained on his shoulders.

With gentle caresses, he said, "That's something we should talk about then, Pete."

He looked Peter straight in the eye and said, "I meant what I said, baby. I don't want to do anything you don't like. So if you don't want to have sex, we're not having sex."

Peter nodded dumbly. He was still expecting Tony to just walk away. What alpha would want an omega who didn't want sex?

Whatever look was on his face gave his thoughts away because Tony's face softened.

"Do you like kissing?" He asked softly but seriously.

Peter licked his lips. His heart was pounding but the fear of losing Tony was starting to settle. Maybe it wouldn't go away entirely but this… Tony was listening and the serious look in his eyes… It comforted Peter beyond anything else.

Tony wanted to know and in a way, it reassured Peter that he wasn't going to leave. Why would he ask or care about things Peter felt comfortable with if he was going to leave?

He nodded hesitatingly. "I do, but… Not when you use your tongue…?"

The alpha nodded in acceptance. "No tongue. Got it. It feels a little weird anyway."

Peter cracked a smile.

"And when I was… touching you earlier?" Tony asked. "That wasn't okay?"

Peter's breath hitched in his throat. Would he be offended that Peter didn't like it?

"I didn't…" Peter's emotions warred inside his mind. "It wasn't–"

Tony got the gist of the idea and nodded but Peter couldn't accept leaving things half unspoken like that. He didn't want Tony to think he didn't want him. He just didn't… couldn't… want him like that.

"I think I'm asexual," Peter said. "I think– I don't want to have sex."

He wanted to tighten his grip on the alpha as though the very words were a curse that would send Tony running. But he forced his hands to remain loose, just resting on Tony's arms.

If Tony couldn't accept it…

The alpha hummed and there was a pucker on his lips that gave away how fast his mind was racing. Thinking. Considering. Deciding.

"Are cuddles okay?" He asked. It sent a new wave of relief crashing through Peter's system.

"I love cuddles…" Peter said, voice soft and yearning.

"Is it okay if we cuddle now?" Tony asked gently.

"Please…" Peter literally climbed into his lap and Tony's arms held him tight. He felt lighter now that he told Tony.

And when Tony kissed the top of his head, Peter felt more tears burn at the edge of his eyes.

"I love you, Pete," Tony told him. "We still need to talk more about this but I just want you to know I love you."

"I love you too, Tony…" Peter said and even though the words were muffled against the alpha's shoulder, he was sure that Tony understood them.

[cutelittlestar]

Maniac: Chapter 4 || Peter Parker x Detective!Reader

Summary: As you and Peter investigate an abandoned warehouse, you come to find something shocking and terrifying, paralyzing you with fear. 

Note: Hello lovelies! I am so sorry this took FOREVER to post - I’ve been extremely busy with college and never had the time to write - but here it is :) Also, I know the image above is of Taskmaster, but this is how I pictured the villain to look like! 

Warning(s): topics of death and murder, prostitution, violence, stalking, blood, angst, cursing. MATURE CONTENT, 18+

Word Count: 6.1k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

You sat in front of your desk, rubbing your eyes as you tried your best to remain awake. Your eyes scanned over the various sheets of paper scattered around your desk, and you let out a sigh of frustration. There was no resourceful information discovered on Elizabeth’s devices. 

Despite the setback, you thought it would be a good idea to search the streets. Since Elizabeth was committing the same activities as the previous victims, you went to the same location Glimmer and Amanda were usually at. You knew that it was a big stretch, but you hoped that the other workers would tell you what they knew. However, once you arrived, none of the workers were willing to talk to you. You could see in their eyes how much they wanted to speak, but just as they were about to open their mouths, they remained silent. They knew of something but decided it was better to not involve themselves. You were disappointed, but you couldn’t blame them; they were terrified of becoming the next victim. 

It’s almost been a week since Elizabeth was murdered, and you have yet to find any new information about the killer. You started to become convinced that the killer was never going to be caught. 

No, you think to yourself. I can’t think like this, not when so many people are counting on me. 

You stand up and walk away. Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough. Maybe you missed a crucial detail in the files, so you decided to check once more, hoping you would discover something new. You head towards the evidence room and scavenge through various boxes. As you grab the files and walk out of the room, you begin to read. Your eyes scanned over the paper, but everything that was written down was information you already knew. Just as you’re about to close the file, your fingers stop moving as you come across a photo. 

You sharply inhale as you stare at the photo of Glimmer, her bright smile causing immense pain to course throughout your body. Your fingers lightly trace her face, and you began to remember the memories you shared with her. A soft smile makes its way onto your face, but then it quickly disappears as you notice another photo attached to the file. 

The autopsy photo of Glimmer.

“I’m sorry,” you softly whisper, hoping no one heard your voice. 

It felt as if you stood in the middle of the room for an eternity, but you’re immediately pulled out of your thoughts as you hear a loud cough come from behind. You rapidly close the file, holding them to your side before turning around to greet the citizen. Instead, you’re met with Peter, who awkwardly stands a few feet away from you. 

“Oh. Peter,” you say, surprised to see him. “Is everything alright?”

You expect him to respond, but he doesn’t. Then, you notice how his lips form a firm, straight line like he’s distraught on what to say. You furrow your eyebrows, worried about Peter’s silence, but before you could say anything else, your eyes land on the clock behind Peter. Your shift ended two hours ago. 

“Shit,” you said, thinking that Peter was upset you didn’t come home when you were supposed to. “Peter,” you began to explain, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I was just-”

“It’s alright, Y/N,” Peter confesses, offering you a genuine smile. You close your mouth, a bit puzzled that he was so calm, but then you nod your head, happy that he wasn’t angry. However, Peter’s smile is immediately gone and is now replaced with a serious expression. 

“Can we talk? In private?” Peter whispers, stepping closer to you. Peter’s hand delicately rests on your forearm, and he softly squeezes it. 

You stare at where his hand lays, ignoring how your heart accelerated, but then you looked into his eyes, nodding your head. “Sure.” 

You placed the files on your desk, giving Michael a short response when he asked where you were going. As you head towards Peter, you didn’t realize how Michael eyed you until you were out of his sight. He was a bit jealous - jealous because when Peter arrived, you immediately dropped everything. 

Peter directed you towards the supply closest, to which you were a bit confused about, but you decided to not question it. Instead, you grab the doorknob and open the door, flicking on the light switch. You watch Peter linger behind, making sure no one was watching nor following before he entered and locked the door.

“Pete, you’re kinda freaking me out.” You stare at his cold expression, wondering what was on his mind. If he had to come all the way to your work, it had to be something important.

“I’ve been searching every possible location with high levels of vibranium,” Peter finally manages to reveal, gaining your fully devoted attention. “But there were no traces of anyone recently there.” 

Peter watches your face contort to disappointment, but no words come out of your mouth. 

“There’s only one more place left that I need to check out, and I wanted to come to you and let you know of my plan before I go tonight,” Peter adds.

There’s a short moment of silence, and you place your arms across your chest. Peter waits for your response, but you merely take in a big, deep breath before releasing it. 

“Okay,” you say a few seconds later, nodding your head. “But I’m coming with you.”   

“What?” Peter said, not liking what you suggested. “There’s no way you’re coming with me. It’s too dangerous.” 

A scowl appears on your face and you felt your blood boil as you listened to Peter’s words. Of course you knew that it was dangerous, but you’re a fucking detective. You knew of the risks, but that wasn’t going to deter you away from danger.  

“Peter,” you loudly exasperate. Peter could see your anger, it was apparent, and just as you’re about to scold him, you bite your tongue. You needed to go. After everything that the person has done to you, you felt it was only right if you came along. It was your case. 

“I’ve been chasing this prick for weeks,” you reveal to Peter, your voice as smooth as silk. “I need to come. I need to catch him. Please, Peter,” you beg, hoping that he would understand your request.

Peter stayed quiet, a bit conflicted about what to do. But, after a while, Peter let out a sigh, nodding his head. “Alright, but we need to leave now.” 

“I’ll go grab my jacket.” 

- - - - - - - - -  

The abandoned warehouse was tightly nestled between other desolated buildings. The stillness of the area was ominous, causing you to become a bit worried, but you brushed your fear aside and raised your head high- ready to investigate the area. 

“The frequency of the vibranium is a lot stronger than the other places I’ve been to,” Peter confesses, standing right beside you. Both of you stared at the tall, wrecked, and stretched-out warehouse but neither of you move; if you wanted to cover the whole building, you would have to split up, so you needed to come up with a plan. Before you could suggest your idea, Peter interrupts you. 

“Stay here,” Peter declared. You whip your head to face him, giving him a disbelief expression. 

“What? There’s no way I’m staying put. I’m coming with you,” you argued, once again, becoming bothered that Peter wasn’t giving you the chance to speak for yourself. You weren’t some damsel in distress, you were perfectly capable of investigating with him. 

“I thought we were supposed to be partners, Peter. I’m not you’re fucking sidekick,” you spat. Your patience was running thin, and Peter’s comment was making you more aggravated by the second. 

“Damnit Y/N!” Peter yelled, causing you to take one step back. Peter’s breathing was more noticeable than before, and you knew that he was angry with you, but you didn’t give up. You continued to stare him down, despite being unable to look into his eyes. It looked as if Peter wanted to argue, but he remained quiet. Instead, Peter steps back.

“You don’t get it,” Peter whispered, thinking you were unable to hear him, but you heard him perfectly clear. 

Within a mere second, your fury returned. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a cop, Peter. I risk my life just as many times as you do.” Peter rubs his hands over his face, feeling his body turn hot from irritation. 

Suddenly, Peter drops his hands and furiously walks over to you until he’s only a few centimeters away from your face. You expect Peter to continue yelling, but instead, Peter reaches down, tightly grasping your hand. You take a sharp inhale.

“What if something horrible happens and I’m not there to protect you?” Peter weakly states, his voice slightly cracking as he begins to imagine the worst. “What if -god forbid- you die? I can’t have that on my conscious, Y/N. I can’t lose you, not like-” 

Peter bites his lip, unable to continue speaking; he hangs his head low as if he’s ashamed of mentioning his name. The frustration you once felt was completely gone as you watched Peter stand still. Although Peter’s face was covered by his mask, you recognized that he was trying his hardest to hold back the tears. You knew who he was speaking of, but you were also scared to mention his name out loud. 

At that moment, you understood Peter’s behavior. He wasn’t holding you back because he doesn’t think you’re strong enough. 

He was holding you back because he’s afraid he’s going to lose you. 

You never thought that anyone cared about you, but as you continued to stare at Peter, you learned that you were wrong. A heavy load sits on your chest, making it hard for you to properly breathe. 

Peter cares. 

By instinct, you reach your hands out until they rested on Peter’s cheeks; you hoped he had the strength to look into your eyes, but he continued to stare at the ground. He was petrified, and so were you, but you needed to remain strong. 

“I know you’re scared, but I can take care of myself,” you remarked, gingerly rubbing his face with your thumbs. “You have nothing to worry about, Pete, but you have to trust me.”

Peter slightly moves his body from side to side, and you feel your hands turn clammy as you were met with silence. 

“Do you?” you asked. 

You stared into his suit goggles, hoping he would say something, but Peter simply nods his head before stepping back. A sharp pain settles itself in your chest as your hands fall to your sides, but you swallow your emotions and put on a poker face, hoping he didn’t detect your slight change of behavior. 

Peter digs his hand into his pocket. “C-can you just wear this? Please?” Peter said, extending his arm out and grabbing your hand, placing something in your palm. 

“It’s an earpiece, so we can communicate. Press the center if you’re in danger; I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Peter remarked. You twirled the device laying on your hand before placing it in your ear. Soon after that, you and Peter began to form ideas until you were both satisfied with the plan.

“Be safe,” you tell Peter as you now stand in the middle of the main floor. You barely entered the abandoned warehouse, but you were already entirely swallowed by the darkness.

Peter strides forward, ready to part ways, and just as you’re about to think that Peter isn’t going to say anything else, he stops walking. There’s a long pause, but then he speaks.  

“You too.” He was gone in an instant. 

The sounds of the wind brought you back to reality, and you now diverted your attention back to your environment. You tightly clutched your gun as you stared into the darkness before walking down the hallway. 

The wallpaper was utterly decaying, moss was beginning to grow from the cracks of the cement, and the items left behind were being covered by nature. The flashlight you held in your other hand provided some assistance, but as you walked down the hallway, you felt your stomach twist. You turned the corner, softly stepping, hoping you remained undetected, but as you look further down the path, nothing appears to look out of place. The hallway stretched itself for so long, it felt as if you were going down an endless path. You continued to tightly grip your gun, still uncertain if the area was completely abandoned.  

“Everything alright?” Peter’s voice echoed through the coms. You’re a bit startled by his unexpected voice, but you quickly recover, responding to his question. 

“All good. You?” 

Despite Peter’s attempts on being discreet, you could hear Peter’s footsteps through the ear device. “Everything is clear. Looks like no one’s been here in a long time,” Peter said.  

“I doubt that,” you responded. “In fact, it feels as if something is pulling me towards the gloom.” 

You wait for Peter to reply, but then you’re swallowed by the silence once again. There’s a burning sensation brewing in the center of your chest, yearning to hear Peter’s voice again, but you don’t even hear the faintness of noise. 

“Peter?” you anxiously whispered. “Hello, can you hear me?” Suddenly your ears perked up in delight as you hear a noise, but then it’s immediately covered by static. 

You let out a cry as a loud siren powerfully burns your ear. You take off the earpiece and whimper in pain; there’s a long ringing echoing itself into your head, and it won’t go away. You glance down, staring at the earpiece on the floor, and bend down to pick it up. Peter guaranteed it was new tech, so why did it malfunction so quickly? Your mind formulated reasonable explanations as to why it didn’t work, but it seemed very unlikely given the fact that Peter ran various tests beforehand.

Unless... 

Was there something interfering with the signal? 

As you stand pondering, you immediately hear a noise come from a distance. You whip your head towards the direction of the sound, quickly disregarding the earpiece you were so focused on seconds ago. The noise sounded as if something had fallen, so you hastily head down the path, determined to know where the sound was coming from. You raised your flashlight, scanning your radius until your eyes landed on something that seemed strange. 

A pile of boxes hidden by worn-out and moldy sheets caught your attention, and you began to examine the cardboard. The damage done to the cardboard was horrible, but it stood out from the rest of the boxes. It didn’t look old enough to be there. You moved the boxes out of the way, hoping to find a piece of evidence, but then you begin to see an outline of a basement door. You stopped moving, staring at the now visible entrance, uncertain on what to do. Your first instinct was to inform Peter, but since the earpiece was no longer working, you were on your own. Without a second thought, you reached the handle and opened the door. 

Once you reached the lower level, you lifted your hand out in front of you. With the flashlight, you were able to see how narrow and uneven the hallway was; there were more boxes scattered down the hallway, but you managed to push them out of your path with ease. As you began to walk further down, your flashlight began to flicker, causing you to stop moving. 

“Shit, shit,” you whispered to yourself as the light eventually gave out. You tapped the flashlight, hoping it was just a slight malfunction, but that couldn’t be it. You put new batteries not too long ago. As you stood in the darkness, your breathing began to grow heavier; you didn’t feel like you were alone. Then, something catches your attention as you stare off into the void. 

A faint light at the end of the hallway. 

It was warm and soft, projecting the same amount of light a candle would, and if you squinted your eyes hard enough, you could make out a door at the end of the hallway. You slowly placed the flashlight on the floor, now using both of your hands to hold your gun. 

Once you arrived at the end of the hallway, you leaned against the wall, taking a sharp inhale before raising your foot and kicking the door down. The hinges of the door immediately came off, and within a second, you entered the tiny room, scanning the premise. Noticing that no one was no one there waiting for you, you lowered your gun. Rather, there was a candle on a table which was situated in the middle of the room. You came closer to the table, noticing an envelope was there, waiting for you to open it. 

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach as you realized the handwriting looked familiar. 

To Detective Y/L/N

The killer was here. 

Your eyes flickered back to the light, watching the wax slowly drip onto the candle holder. Your blood began to boil as it dawned on you that you were so close to catching them, but now they’re gone. Ignoring the shivers running down your body, you moved closer, grabbing the envelope and tearing it open. You pulled a paper out, tightly clutching it as you read the words over and over again until your hands began to shake. 

So close yet so far away. Better luck next time, Detective. 

You slammed the paper and envelope on the desk, your chest rapidly heaving as you took a step back. The wrath you were feeling was more powerful than you’ve ever undergone before—but instead of kicking the table, crumpling up the paper, or storming out of the room—you began to sob. An uncontrollable wail took over your body, making it harder for you to breathe. Every emotion you suppressed since the death of Amanda began to crawl its way out of you, and you didn’t know how to stop it. Your legs felt like jello, and the tears streaming down your face made it harder for you to see. 

You failed them. 

Amanda. 

Glimmer. 

Elizabeth. 

All of them dead, all because of you.     

You roughly wiped the tears away, biting your lip in hopes that your sobs would crumble, but it was hopeless; there was nothing you could do. Numbness was what you felt after—a feeling too familiar—but despite your desire to be with Peter again, your feet remained planted on the ground. Your red-sunken eyes landed on the letter once again, but before you could reach down to grab the paper, you felt an unsettling presence stand behind you. 

Within an instance, you grabbed your gun from the side grip and spun around. As your finger was about to pull the trigger, the dark figure grabs your wrist, twisting it in the process, causing you to lose your grip. You panted in distress, and within a mere second, the figure ripped the gun away, leaving you vulnerable. You step back in fear, your eyes glued to the figure as it walks out of the darkness. 

“If you make a sound, I’ll fucking kill you.” The figure morbidly muttered, powerfully standing over your shriveled body. Your breathing became jagged, but you try your hardest to remain quiet, fearfully complying. Your body shook from terror, and you break eye-contact with the assailant, feeling that if you stared any longer, he would violently react. 

Man, roughly around six feet tall, slender yet well-built, voice dark and raspy, race and age still unknown. Has a black skull mask, where the prominent features of the face are outlined with stainless, grey metal. Wearing a black cowl and a well-armored suit. You constantly repeated this to yourself, hoping you would remember every detail of their appearance, but a part of you felt like you weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Peter, where are you? you said to yourself. Your mind twisted horrific scenarios, and your eyes started to water as you imagined the worst. 

“You should be more aware of your surroundings, Y/N,” the dark voice spoke again, twirling the gun in his hand. The calmness of his voice brought instant rage, and you narrowed your eyes.

“What the hell do you want?” you angrily asked, gripping the frame of the table with such intensity. 

He swiftly took a bullet out of the chamber and tossed it to the floor. Then, he detached the magazine body from the gun and crumbled the body in his hand as if he was crumpling up a piece of paper. He has superstrength abilities, just like Peter.

“You’re asking the wrong question,” he replied. “As usual.” The killer stepped closer until he stood inches away from you, but you remained frozen. 

“What you should be asking is if that little boyfriend of yours is still alive.” Your breathing came to a sudden halt as you processed his words. 

“What did you do to him?!” you yelled, tears gushing down your face. Your fear and anger got the best of you, but you didn’t care if your voice disobeyed his threat. Peter can’t be dead, he can’t...

He didn’t move an inch as he continued to stare. “Still breathing, but if he lives or not, that’s on you.” You bit your lip to muffle your cries, but they easily slipped out; there was nothing you could do. You were useless. Defenseless. Weak.  

The immensely cold silence brought anguish and sorrow, and no matter how much you wanted to hurt him, you needed to stay alive. “Why did you kill those women?” you softly questioned. 

“For you, of course,” he deadpanned.

Your hands began to tremble. “Wh-”

The killer slightly leaned backward, as if he was surprised you didn’t understand what he was saying. He shook his head from side to side, clearly disappointed that you were so far behind. “Oh, Y/N. You still have so much to learn.”

“If you’re doing this for me, then stop!” you snapped. “Stop killing innocent people, they had nothing to do with this!”

“But Y/N, they have everything to do this with.” He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, slowly rubbing circles on your jacket. Your skin turned cold as he continued to massage your shoulder, and you felt sick to your stomach. You heard him take a deep breath before speaking, “I won’t stop, not until you learn the truth, but don’t worry, I have something in store for you.” 

His grip loosened, and you watched as he created a significant amount of distance between you and him; you quickly looked at the door, but you knew it would be impossible to try and escape. Something in store for me? you pondered to yourself, but then everything immediately clicked. 

You shift your direction back to the masked assailant, shaking of rage. “I swear, if you kill another person, I’ll-” 

“Your threats are meaningless to me, Y/N.” His voice was barely above a whisper. 

As you’re about to respond, a piercing scream echoes throughout the abandoned warehouse. You whip your heads towards the door, immediate relief washing over you. 

“Y/N!” Peter frantically yelled. “Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?! PLEASE! ANSWER ME!” 

“If you want to save him and Luna, then I suggest you leave.” His voice was faint and dark, and if your senses hadn’t been dialed to eleven, you would’ve missed what he said. You glance at the door once more before looking at the killer, unable to register his words. Luna? You didn’t move an inch, uncertain if you could believe his words. There was no way he would let you go, just like that. 

“Go,” the killer hummed, “run as fast as you can.” Without a second hesitation, you bolt towards the door, using all the strength you could muster to sprint to Peter. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you began to assume you were safe, but then the killer’s words flooded your mind. Save them from what? Various ideas immediately came to mind, and your fear of not finding Peter in time began to grow stronger. You needed to find him before it was too late. 

“Y/N!” you overheard Peter’s voice echo throughout the warehouse. You stopped in your tracks, hoping you could pinpoint his location, and when you heard another shriek, you immediately ran towards the sound of his voice. I’m coming, Peter. Please be okay, please be okay... 

Peter’s eyes began to cloud with tears as the silence grew stronger. His heart started to frantically pound, and if he didn’t find you soon, he was certain his heart was going to stop. He knew it was a horrible idea to split up, and he should’ve fought harder—but you were so stubborn you didn’t want to listen—God, if you would’ve just listened to him, none of this would’ve happened. As he continued to scream your name, Peter was unable to focus due to a constant noise echoing around him; the beeping grew stronger and stronger, causing Peter to become more anxious and fearful.

“Peter!” you shouted, but you regretted screaming, notwithstanding how much your throat burned. 

Peter’s feet stopped moving and turned his head towards your angelic voice, immediate relief engulfing him as he sees your face. Without hesitation, Peter picks up his feet until he’s sprinting down the hallway. You roughly collide with one another, but you ignore the pain as you tightly hold onto him; Peter takes a deep breath in, inhaling your scent, already feeling safer. You briefly close your eyes, glad that he was alright, but the moment had to over. You pull away from the hug, and Peter instantly noticed something was wrong; your clothes were disheveled, and the fright settled in your eyes caused Peter to panic. 

“We have to go,” was all you could muster out. 

“Are you alright? What happened?” Peter worriedly inquired, but you shook your head, ignoring his questions. 

“He’s here, Peter. We have to go now.” His spider senses hit him like a truck the moment you finished your sentence, and Peter stared into your eyes once again before nodding his head. Suddenly, the beeping noise gets louder and faster, and Peter’s eyes widened, knowing what was about to come. He grabbed you by the arms, pulling you into his chest before ducking to the ground. 

A loud explosion erupts throughout the east side of the building, causing the whole floor to shake. You scream in shock and horror, but you feel Peter’s grip get tighter. Before Peter could run, another explosion erupted fifteen feet away; you open your mouth to scream again, but no words are able to come out as the entire ceiling collapses on you and Peter. 

Within a blink of an eye, everything went dark and silent. 

- - - - - - - - -  

When Peter opened his eyes, it felt like he slept for eternity; his head achingly throbbed but when he tried to shake the pain away, he came to realize that he couldn’t move freely. With every slight movement, his body contorted and Peter let out distressed groans and grunts, trying his hardest to remain calm. Peter began to loudly cough, and he was having a difficult time properly breathing. Slowly, he began to raise his arm, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain coursing throughout his body. Luckily, he was able to take off his mask, but the debris was still dense. For a short moment, Peter’s memory was a bit foggy, but then everything came surging back. He remembered the reason why he was surrounded by rubble and darkness. 

The explosion. 

Y/N.... 

Peter’s eyes widened once he thought of your name. Oh god, Peter thought to himself, what have I done? Just as Peter was about to start losing his mind—wondering where you could’ve been—he felt something move underneath him.

His eyes dart down, his breath making contact with your skin. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” he softly called out, hoping you would respond. Moments of silence pass by, but before the panic can settle in, he hears a tiny groan depart your lips. Peter slowly moved his hand upwards until he touched your cheek. The air was becoming more crowded, and Peter was taking shorter breaths. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here,” Peter promised, leaning his forehead against yours for a brief second before forcing himself to sit up as much as he can.    

While Peter was being crushed by the heavy concrete, there was still enough space for him to move. Sweat, blood, and dirt trickled down his forehead, and Peter took a deep breath before raising his arms up. The pain was intolerable but he continued to persist; he had to make sure you were okay, that was his first priority. His hands landed on the concrete—and before taking another deep breath—Peter mustered up all of his strength and pushed as hard as he could. As the distance between you and the concrete started to get further, Peter was able to rise up to his knees before quickly standing up and pushing the rubble off of his body; the concrete fell a few feet away from where Peter stood. He was no longer surrounded by the darkness; rather, he felt the slight coolness of the moonlight settle upon his skin, causing chills to run down his spine. Peter felt comfort in knowing that he successfully managed to pull the rubble off him, but as he shifted his attention to you, he noticed you weren’t moving. 

Peter’s legs shook with such intensity that he dropped to the floor; his knees made a rough impact with the ground, but he ignored the burning sensation—instead, his eyes were settled on your lifeless body.  

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice cracked, “wake up. We’re okay.” Peter leaned forward, his shaky hands reaching out for you. He gingerly held your head with one hand and wrapped his other around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. Peter was unable to register how your skin was colder than his or how you remained unresponsive to his voice—he didn’t want to belive. No, this couldn’t be happening. 

He pushed your hair away from your face, and as he delicately rested his hand on the side of your head, he felt something drench his suit. Peter slowly pulled his hand back and stared at his trembling hand. It took him a while to notice the crimson liquid running down his fingers. 

“No, no,” Peter whispered, “please wake up.” Peter’s world began to shatter as his worst fear unraveled into a real nightmare.  

Tears began to slide down his face, and Peter cried out, pleading for anybody to hear him. It was futile; he was all alone. Peter couldn’t stop himself from shaking. “You’re going to be fine,” Peter said out loud, wiping his tears with his shoulder. Peter didn’t know if he was lying to you or himself. A sob rippled through his body, and an excruciating scream broke out of him. 

“Don’t go...” Peter wailed, tightly clutching your body, “don’t leave me.” 

Peter began to hyperventilate; his body uncontrollably heaved and his eyes remained shut, unable to accept reality, but Peter was so lost in his mind that he failed to see how your eyes slowly opened.

The sound of cries was the first thing you heard; it was faint, at first, but as you continued to concentrate on the noise, it grew louder and louder, causing you to open your eyes. The thought of even moving your body brought such immense pain, so you decided to remain still; however, you quickly forgot about your own injuries once your eyes landed on Peter. His face was filled with bloody cuts, dark bruises, and moist dirt; a smile appeared on your face—knowing fully well that he was safe, but then your smile disappeared as you realized tears were pouring down his face. Your hands found it way to his face, but Peter continued to cry; he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. 

“Peter,” you weakly murmured, causing Peter to stop breathing. 

At first, Peter was unable to believe he heard your voice, but once he opened his eyes and looked down, Peter let out a cry of relief as he stared into your beautiful eyes. They were so soft, and he loved how they melted in the moonlight. Peter brought you closer to his body, carefully resting his forehead on yours, fearing that if he let you go, you would be gone again. You instantly melted into his touch, feeling immediate warmth. You didn’t care that he was bloody, dirty, or sweaty; you didn’t mind at all. 

Peter slowly moved his head back, and you stared into his sweet, chocolate eyes. 

“I thought you were gone.” Peter softly whispered, his voice uneven.    

“I would never leave you,” you heartedly confessed as you rubbed his beaten cheek with your thumb. “I’m right here.” 

“Y/N,” Peter breathed out. You smiled once you heard your name roll off his tongue, and your heart fluttered. You never thought your name could sound so beautiful, but you were wrong. Before you could register what was happening, you felt Peter delicately place his lips on yours. Your breathing came to a sudden stop, but as Peter cradled your face with his smooth hands, you breathed once again. This was real, you said to yourself; you never would’ve imagined this was how your first kiss would’ve gone. Nevertheless, it was just as wonderful. Your hands worked their way around his face, and you felt every line along with his beautiful physique. It felt right, and you didn’t want this moment to end. A strange feeling began to brew in the pit of your stomach, but then you remembered what this feeling was. 

Love. 

You love Peter so much—so much that you would do anything to save his life.  

Meanwhile, Peter felt his body shake from excitement; he was afraid—afraid you were going to pull away, but once he felt your hands travel down his chest and tug at his suit, he was no longer terrified. Peter pulled apart and took shallow, shaky breaths, still unable to process that you returned the kiss. You deeply stared into each other’s eyes—eyes filled with hope and love; neither of you said a word, but there was no need to. He knew, and you knew, and it was enough for you. Peter could feel the beating of your heart against his chest, and it brought so much happiness. 

Before Peter could press his lips on yours once again, he paused. The sounds of sirens came closer, and a frown settled on his face, knowing he couldn’t kiss you anymore. 

“You need to leave.” Peter turns his head to look at you, furrowing his eyebrows. You gave him a reassuring smile, knowing it was best if he left before the cops arrived, but Peter shook his head in protest; he wasn’t fond of leaving you alone—not after what just happened. 

“No, I’m not leaving,” Peter sternly stated. 

Your heart fluttered once again; you didn’t like the idea either, you wanted him to stay, but he had a responsibility. No one can know he’s Spider-Man. Without hesitation, you lift your hand up and touch his bruised skin, hoping he would understand. His heartbeat slowed down as your skin touched his, and he instinctively nestled his face into your palm. 

“I’ll be fine, Peter. You need to keep your identity a secret.” 

Peter let out a sigh, knowing you were right. “Okay.” Peter reluctantly agreed.

Peter gently helped you stand up, and as he led you down the path of rubble, he noticed the blue and red lights were coming closer. After a few minutes, they would be here. Once he made sure you were in a safe location, he knew he had to go, yet his body didn’t move. You stared at Peter, wondering what was on his mind, but before you could ask, Peter grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer. He rested his forehead on yours, and for a few seconds, he closed his eyes, sulking that the moment was coming to an end.  

You closed your eyes as well, a genuine smile resting on your face. “I’ll see you soon, don’t worry,” you reassured him. Peter slowly opened his eyes, blissfully staring at your face before leaning down and softly kissing your forehead. Your body went rigid with surprise, but then you ultimately relaxed. 

“See you soon, Angel,” Peter said; you slowly opened your eyes and gazed into his once more before he drew away and left without a trace. 

- - - - - - - - -  

yay :)

Taglist: @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts​ @caitsymichelle13​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @lukesbabylon​ @spideylovin​ @juliebean247​ @fangirling12566

[marshmallow-phd]

Between the Pages

Genre: Vampire!AU

Pairing: Taemin x Reader

A/N: This one was fun. And writing for Taemin is making me what to do it again! 

**

The library was quiet – as it should be. Despite the dozen or so people scattered about in the evening hours, you were able to drift in and out of the aisles without any problems. Occasionally, you would stop and inspect a spine that caught your eye, making sure it was in its proper place before moving on to the next shelf. You had a small pile of books in your arms that were needing to find their homes again. Motivation to do much else was lost on you at the moment. As much as you loved your job, your mind was more preoccupied with what was waiting for you afterwards.

“Do you know where the Shakespeare books are?”

“Shoot!” you squealed way too loudly for a librarian. The familiar laugh made you whirl around. Taemin was leaning up against the shelf of books, arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. You, however, did not find it as amusing. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

The vampire shrugged. “Last I checked, this wasn’t sacred ground.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your work. “Whatever ground you walk on is immediately de-sacred-fied.”

“I may not be as smart as you, but I’m sure that’s not a word.”

You looked back at him over your shoulder as you tried to hold back a laugh you knew would be breaking the volume rule. “You’d think a three-hundred-year-old vampire would be extremely intelligent.”

Taemin pushed off the shelf and stalked towards, his hands now behind his back. He came close to you, enough to make your own shoulder blades bump into the innocent books behind you. “Sorry,” he said without an ounce of sincerity. “I spent my time practicing other… things.”

You could already feel the heat exploding in your cheeks and your heart speeding up in your chest from the embarrassment. You hated when he did that. It was all on purpose, toeing the line of innuendoes. He said he did it because it reminded him of how human you were; the reactions your body had to his presence drew him in – not to quench his everlasting thirst, but to explore the meaning of being human himself again.

There were times he made you feel as cliché as the heroines in the supernatural section: the unassuming female lead, quiet, unadventurous, nose always in a book. You were a librarian, for Pete’s sake. And not even the cool Noah Wyle-type where you went around the world finding ancient artifacts and saving humanity from an evil villain (usually scared or tattooed) who wanted to use the artifact for his own nefarious purposes.

Instead, you were the protector of plastic-covered books and keeper of late fees. (Yes, there was much more to your job than that and you absolutely loved it, but that was beside the point.) Compared to the extended life Taemin had lived… you were a little boring.

“Come back,” his voice whispered in your ear, making you jump. He chuckled at your startled expression and you resisted the urge to punch his arm. It wouldn’t inflict any level of pain on him anyway. “You were doing it again,” he teased. “Spacing out.”

“Sorry,” you murmured. It tended to happen, your mind wandering down paths and blocking out reality at the most inconvenient times. Taemin, however, was used to it by now.

He shook his head at you. “Don’t be. You’re cute when you do that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You say that about everything I do.”

“Because it’s true.” Locking you in with his gaze, he leaned in until the tips of your noses were just a hair’s breadth apart. His voice was low, almost to the point of in audible as he said, “Come with me.”

“No,” you said back with almost no fight. “I can’t just leave work.”

“You won’t be leaving building.”

Oh, no. You knew that look. That gleam in his eye compared with the smile that was just a little too innocent. His mind had already conjured up a scheme that you would be against before he could get one word out.

“Taemin, no-”

Too late.

He already had you scooped up in his arms and blurring by the bookshelves. The “employees only” door near the back of the library didn’t hinder him at all, making it through with a quick swipe of your badge that hung from your waist. He continued up the stairs even as they turned from polished marble to rickety wood under his feet, his steps so light they hardly made a sound. In the span of perhaps thirty seconds or so, he’d taken you from the first floor non-fiction section all the way up to the bell tower balcony outside.

The wind was stronger up here, less hindered by the other buildings of the city. Low in the sky, the sun continued to shine on the orange and blue canvas. Taemin set you back down on your feet, but you still clung to his side with as tight of a grip you could muster. As beautiful as the scene was, you had a horrible fear of heights. Taemin knew this about you, yet he still brought you all the way up here.

“It’s okay,” he giggled. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Why did he always find your scared moments so amusing? Was it a vampire thing?

“Why did you bring me up here?” you asked out loud.

“Because I wanted you to see the sunset.” With his cold hand he took ahold of yours while wrapping his other arm behind the small of your back. For a moment, you thought he was going to start waltzing with you though there was no music, but he didn’t move. He kept staring out at the small strip of sun still visible on the horizon.

This was the only time of day that he could be out, the only time where the sun’s rays wouldn’t disintegrate him into ash. Out of all the myths about vampires that weren’t true – the garlic, the mirrors, the coffins – you really wished that one was on the list. You wanted to see the world with him, see it through his eyes, but during the day, where you believed it was at its most beautiful. But he could never do that. Not without risking goodbye the forever kind of way.

“I’ve seen it before,” you sighed.

“But I want you to really look at it.”

Turning away from it completely, you looked Taemin in the eyes. They were bright red, telling you he’d recently fed. “Why?” you demanded. “What’s so important about it?”

“Because I want you to know how I see you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. He was hardly ever serious, at least not with you, not in the time that you’d known him. Even on the night you’d met, despite how scary it had been for you, he was smiling and joking in an effort to put you more at ease.

Letting go of your hand, he reached out and caressed your cheek with his cool thumb.

“You’ve been crying in your sleep lately,” he confessed. “At first I thought you were having nightmares about him again.”

You shuddered at the memory of the vampire who’d decided to make you his next meal. That was back before you knew about the supernatural, back when it all was still fairytales put to paper. Taemin had saved you that night, but even if you felt secure and protected with him, he couldn’t frighten away the nightmares. Thinking back, though, you hadn’t dreamt about him in a long time. You shook your head, “I don’t understand.”

“You started talking in your sleep,” he explained, a sadness filling his eyes that broke your own heart. “Saying things like not being good enough or being unworthy. Once you asked me how I could stay with you.” Closing his eyes, he came forward and nudged your nose with his own. “You silly little creature. How could you not see yourself as I do?”

“But-”

Taemin stopped you with his ice cold lips, pressing them into yours to push back the argument that was brewing inside. He pinned you in between him and the brick wall of the tower. While he usual kisses with you were softer, gentler in fear of accidentally hurting you, this one was more aggressive, releasing all that he normally held back. He broke away from your lips to move down to your jaw and then your neck. Against your skin, you felt his fangs grow long and sharp. You accidentally let out a squeak, stopping him. When he pulled away, you bit your bottom lip guilty.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be,” he smiled as he cupped your jaw with his hands. “I got a little carried away, that’s all. But do you see it now? How worth it you are?”

No, not entirely. There was still that seed of doubt, but you were sure it would always be there. There was an imbalance between you and Taemin, the kind that could only be fixed in one way. And you were nowhere near ready for that step. There were too many human things you wanted to do, too many days in the sun that you weren’t able to give up yet. But, for now at least, you could push that all away. You nodded reassuringly at him.

“Good,” he beamed, happy to see you smiling up at him. “Because you’re mine. Forever.”

[split-n-splice]

Oop, a longer chapter. Bear with me.

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

40. Whose Side – 3

Her foul mood was expected, but her curt greeting still stung like a viper bite.

“I-I’m sorry I’m late,” sputtered Drakken, glancing at his bitter passenger. Making up excuses was a lost cause, but the feeble explanation tumbled out of his mouth before he could think to match her callous attitude. “I slept through my alarm, a-and I got distracted, and then you didn’t answer when I called so I figured I had best come check on you, but you weren’t home—”

“Drakken,” she interrupted tersely with a voice cold and sharp as ice.

He gulped. “Yes, Shego?”

“Shut up.”

He bit his cheek to silence an objection. The van idled a moment more as he studied her dark glare fixed dead ahead, her arms folded tight across herself and the faintest hint of green glimmering from between her fingers, visibly containing how upset she was at – at him? What had he done? Besides forget to pick her up from Buckley’s again? He wracked his brains quickly, but decided figuring her out was best saved for another time.

Attempting to appease her didn’t suit the image he was going for. He’d have to work on it. Nonetheless he couldn’t stop himself from piping up. “It’s not too late to pick up some Chow.”

Shego was silent.

Drakken turned the van around and said nothing of it when she dug out a pack of smokes from her pocket to light one up. He certainly kept his eyes off her every time she brought it to her lips to take a puff. Or he tried to, anyway.

By the time he’d navigated his way back to the Cow-n-Chow, she’d relaxed enough to kick her feet up on the dash and tune the radio. That came as some relief, but he knew better than to believe the danger had passed. Drakken was ready to order her usual for her when she spoke up, requesting salad instead. Erring on the side of caution, he ordered her usual anyway, which she tucked into and finished without a word before demanding another stop for a video rental.

He anticipated being presented with a dark and ominous film, but instead she returned to the van dully announcing she could use a laugh, and flashed the cover of a detective comedy. He had mixed feelings about the whimsical man in the picture, but ultimately decided it wasn’t his movie to watch and so the only opinion he spared was a grunt.

“Anything else?” could have been asked a little more nicely, but she could have answered a little more crossly too so he counted his blessings.

“Yeah. Do you have popcorn back home or should we pick some up?”

A sound of frustration snuck out of his mouth, but at least he could nod.

She’d get her popcorn and movie, and he – he had a backlog to catch up on. If there was any urgency to complete projects though, he quickly forgot about it when Shego’s fingers curled around his arm as he made to cross the tech lab to head downstairs. Weak against her pull, he followed her lead with nary a word in defiance.

He barely stifled his protest when he was shoved down onto the couch, his shoulders feeling strangely sunburned where she’d pushed him. “Shego, I can’t—,” was all that made it out of his mouth before her cold stare shut him up. He sat stiffly in place for a minute, contemplating ways to get out of a goodie-goodie comedy he already owned a copy of. He told her where the popcorn was when asked, but otherwise kept his lips zipped tight as the buttery aroma warmed the stale air.

Shego still wore the same stony glare as she wordlessly turned down the lights, popped in the tape, and threw herself down on the far end of the couch, guarding her bowl of popcorn she didn’t seem keen on sharing.

By the light of the previews, Drakken dared to watch her from the corner of his eye – and before they were over, he’d found the gall to unzip his lips. “Do I need to build a brain tap machine to figure out what has you so…so…,” pissed off would not be a safe choice of words, he decided as Shego’s glare turned to sear through him. “Because I can and I will.” How hard could it be? Like a lie detector, but more in depth, right?

“Stay. Out. Of my brain,” she ground out. Slumping further and drawing her knees up, she added in a small grumble, “Jackass.”

He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her ire, but he knew a brain tap machine was off the table. For now.

Drakken crossed his arms and willed his gaze to stay on the television, but it strayed once more as scenes he’d seen before played out. She couldn’t be that angry at him for being so unfashionably late, could she? Puzzled, he stared until her jaded gaze darted to him, if only for a split second.

He hardened his own frown on the television, willing his arms to unfold, bracing himself to stand on the count of three – or ten – or one hundred. He made it to the count of sixty-five when he bit the bullet. His butt was lucky to have made it an inch from the cushion when a hand snapped out, nails digging into his shoulder. He could smell the trace of fabric smoldering beneath Shego’s palm, and felt the tremble before she retracted her grip and stuffed her hands in her armpits to hide the faint green glimmer emanating from her palms.

Swallowing and setting his jaw, Drakken stared down the moody young woman who did not appear to be enjoying her movie whatsoever. “I have better things to do with my time than—,” he began tersely, but of course was interrupted by his puzzling company.

“Lipsky, you are going to watch this normal movie with me, on a normal couch, on a normal television,” she said, her voice bearing a threat of consequence if he dared defy her. “And it’s going to be – I’m going to be—,” she was swallowing hard then as if to gulp down the frog in her throat, batting her lashes to blink away – oh for Pete’s sake, were her eyes misty?

This wasn’t a tearjerker movie, but he glanced to the television anyway as some silly, borderline obscene, gag played out.

“Yes?” he carefully urged, playing the odds she might shed a little light on the situation.

Shego all but blew up on him, flipping the bowl of popcorn balanced on her knees in the process. “NORMAL!” she shouted in frustration, and in the dim light, he caught a glimpse of the green embers fizzling and oozing from her palms as she clawed the air as if she wished to wring someone’s neck. “I want to feel normal! Just for a little while. So please. Forget about anything outside of this room for the next ninety minutes. Just shut up. Shut up and watch the fucking movie with me.” Given the daggers she shot at the television, it was a wonder she didn’t pelt it with plasma.

The startling outburst had Drakken pressed to the far corner of the couch, but at least she didn’t paw at any tears. She looked as though she’d rather throw punches before she let tears roll down her cheeks, though he was sure he saw the threat looming by the rapid flutter of her eyelids. He studied her as she curled into herself again.

He scoffed and gestured to his own blue skin. “Normal? Shego, normal is something people like us aren’t likely to be getting back,” he blurted out, much colder than intended. Even if true, once the words left his mouth, he braced to be struck with a punch, or maybe a glow-laced punch, or maybe hands around his throat, or—

Shego drew a shuddering breath and continued to glare at the television as though that would be enough to let out whatever pent-up frustration he was caught in the crossfire of. “It’s not just that,” he barely heard her grumble into her knees.

“Then what?” Drakken carped. She’d said shut up. He should have listened.

Thankfully a reprimand – verbal or physical – didn’t come, though he was so braced for one he was starting to cramp up. Shego was quiet for a long moment, until finally she exhaled slowly as though to calm herself. He swore he could see it, like breath on a chilly morning or a thin wisp of smoke after taking a drag. “It’s personal,” she said decisively.

In that case, whatever business she had with his television and couch tonight was none of his. Before second thoughts could weigh him down again, Drakken stood and played deaf to her displeased grunt behind him. He glanced to the door. He did have things to do. But he also had something he’d wanted to show her. He’d even tried to tell her so earlier, but she’d been determined to make him sit and keep her company.

“Do you mind if I—”

“Yes,” she snapped.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” he griped back, barely without whining, and pinched the bridge of his nose before trying again. “I think you’ll like it. I was really looking forward to showing it to you.”

It was the truth. He’d intended to show her the rare orchid sometime this evening, ever since she’d asked about it on the ride to Buckley’s Brew. And right now, she sure looked like she could use something to lift her spirits. Though there was also a risk, given the funk she was in, that she could destroy the specimen without regard to its value or the lengths he’d gone through to construct the miniature biosphere to grow the picky plant in, let alone the seeds he’d acquired in a high-stakes gamble. With a little work under the scope, the plant he’d genetically-modified himself months ago had been brought to bloom years ahead of schedule.

Shego’s misty-eyed glare burned into him for a long moment before she gave a stubborn sniff and reached for the remote to stop the movie with a loud crackle of white-noise filling the room. “Whatever,” she said coldly. “I’m going to get dressed for bed.”

It was barely six in the evening – but Drakken refrained from bringing that up as she shouldered past him. Her burnt mattress and linen had yet to be replaced. He desperately hoped that by tomorrow, his couch wouldn’t need to be replaced too. He frowned down to the marks she’d left on his coat, blue fabric singed black where shoulder pads ought to be, and discarded the victim of his volatile hot-tempered accomplice over the back of a barstool.

He slowly counted to three – only three – before leaving his living quarters and into the tech lab. Already, Shego was nowhere in sight, but as he passed down the hall toward his office, he heard the shower running. He tried not to slow or pause or lean toward the washroom door, but he didn’t make it past in time to miss a distinct sniffle inside. She couldn’t possibly be that upset he’d failed to pick her up from Buckley’s. Personal, she’d said. Then it was none of his business, he reminded himself, squaring his shoulders and stalking off for his office once more.

She wanted to be normal, she’d stressed. What was that supposed to mean? Drakken again wracked his brains. What was her idea of normal? Was she homesick? Did she regret passing up her opportunity to rejoin her brothers? Just a few nights ago, when he’d mistakenly brought his own personal woes to her, they’d sat together in front of her television and she’d drowsily reminisced about piling up on the sofa for family movie nights, failing to console him through his acceptance that he may never see his own family again – though he could barely relate to whole idea of family movie nights as an only child. Did she miss that? Not being alone? He knew she had four brothers, at least, and a father, and presumably a mother too – in other words, some aspect of her normal was a sizable family. He was only one person, and he was not crowding henchmen into his quarters to substitute for a family. Androids and henchmen had to be a sorry substitute for family anyway.

Drakken stopped at the bottom of the staircase, sighing wretchedly and rubbing at a crick in his neck.

It was quite possible he was off the mark, but if she wouldn’t tell him what was on her mind and he couldn’t devise any mind-tapping devices to get to the bottom of it himself, he was left to speculate. Unfortunately speculating was bound to give him a headache. Leaving Shego to sort herself out was possibly for the best, he decided, but he still turned for his desk to retrieve the orchid he’d left there.

He froze in his tracks when he lifted his eyes from the stone floor to see an uninvited figure sitting sidelong in his office chair, holding the glass pod containing the plant. Unplugged from what was essentially its life-support system, the delicate little biosphere was scarcely more than a glorified flowerpot, but it was still infuriating to see the intruder turning it over so carelessly.

The wave of alarm washing over him had Drakken scanning the room, frantically questioning where he’d had that blasted intruder alert button installed. That’s right – it was at the CCTV system desk across the office, in convenient reach of any henchman on security duty. Why didn’t he have a henchman stationed there anyway? He should know better than to let his guard down with a perceived threat in the area! He grit his teeth, inwardly berating himself.

“So,” cooed the young woman behind his desk before he could storm up to her. “Who’s this for?”

Frozen, Drakken couldn’t help a nervous gulp. There was no way she could know he’d brought it up from the basement for Shego. Then again, maybe she did. He thought out loud sometimes, and this stranger had the gift of invisibility to make spying a breeze. “Shego,” he growled through his teeth, though it wasn’t so much an answer as it was the irate wish for his accomplice to be beside him to explain the woman’s presence.

Miss Kimbley arched an eyebrow and smirked. “She doesn’t go for flowers,” she informed as if offering a helpful piece of information. “Oh, but try a fish dinner!” she recommended instead, smiling wider and chuckling, though Drakken failed to see what was so funny as there was certainly nothing comical about the territory she was suggesting. Even the henchcrew was strongly advised against cracking jokes of such nature.

Cheeks warming over, Drakken fixed a grimace on his face and hoped it was enough to mask his fluster. He sputtered something indignant and incoherent before he could stop himself, and he bit his tongue with a grunt and tried to form the words right before he spoke again. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” he demanded, crossing the room to yank the spherical biosphere from the intruder’s hands. She was Shego’s acquaintance, but he was certain Shego wouldn’t have willingly invited her in.

The woman shied back just a little bit at the bite in his tone, but then she rose to her feet, pushing the biosphere aside to stand toe to toe. Drakken decided to set it down for safety’s sake, though the thought occurred too late to cradle it in his arms and make a mad dash upstairs for Shego. Instead he glanced across the room toward the CCTV desk, wildly seeking the button to sound the alarm, and lurched back from the fingers spreading over his chest.

“I have an offer for you, Mr…?” said Miss Kimbley, but he recognized a honeycoated tone when he heard one.

“Drakken,” he hissed. He batted the hand away, taking a swift step back toward the staircase – and most importantly the alarm button across the room. “Dr. Drakken.” Hadn’t he clarified that earlier? Alias or not, maybe he shouldn’t be giving his name out to a potential Global Justice spy. Even so, if she had something to offer, she had something to gain, and it was practically reflex to inquire, “What do you want?”

Despite another step back, the intruder was invading his space once again. “Better question,” she chimed, giving the bottom of his tie a tug. He snatched her hand this time, and tried not to consider how cold her fingers felt compared to Shego’s, which he could so often feel warming him even through his gloves. She didn’t let up, clearly not taking the hint nor offence to his scowl and raised lip. “What do you want, Doctor?”

Impulse urged him to snap at her that he wanted her out of his lair. The woman was trespassing, therefore posed a threat, and he was inclined to trust Shego’s judgment that he ought to keep his distance. Which was hard to do with his back against the wall. His mouth was dry. Where was that button? Better yet, where was Shego?

“Whatever she’s offering, I can do better,” said the confident pretty little thing before him in a voice that made his stomach give a sickened flip-flop. An odd shimmer like a mirage glazed over the woman and she was gone – to the naked eye, anyway. He knew better than to believe she had left, not when he still felt the invisible touch running down his stomach and—

If he hadn’t had a reason to panic before, he certainly did at the first tug of his belt.

“Hands off, missy!” snarled Drakken, leaping to the side and stumbling over his own feet. He reached for his waist – everything was in place – and just to be sure everything was in order, he tucked his shirt in a little neater.

The ghost of Shego’s past was visible again, down on her knees, a chafed look on her face for a split second before one of deep consideration settled in its place. Her gaze strayed from him as he regained his composure, her hazel eyes darting to his filing cabinet. One of the drawers had been pulled open. Had she been rifling through his files? Without a doubt, if she was here to spy.

“You need a thief, right?” she said, taking a stab at finding his sweet spot from another angle. “Assassin? Watchdog? I’m your gal.” She stood, gesturing to herself.

She most certainly was not his gal. He didn’t have a gal. And even if he did, even if Shego – Drakken stopped that thought in its tracks and gnashed his teeth, hoping his glare was as menacing as the ones he practiced in the mirror. But by the slow bat of the intruder’s fake eyelashes, it was not.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” he ground out, gesturing to the stairwell to signal it was time she took her leave. If she couldn’t take the hint, then he didn’t need someone on his crew who needed it spelled out for them.

Priscilla Kimbley glanced from the stairs to him, the calculating look still set in her furrowed brow. “Look, man, I need a change of pace,” she said pointedly, taking a step closer once again, but he squared his shoulders and balled his fists and she paused. Hopefully intimidated. Hopefully thinking twice about trying underhanded persuasion a second time. “Looks to me like Shego struck gold here. I saw some of your shit in the basement. Pretty wicked stuff.” Her wry smile was back. She couldn’t still be pushing for what he thought she was, could she? She didn’t look like the henchwoman type. She wouldn’t last a week in villainy.

Drakken glanced across the room to the button again. He could press it now, and Priscilla could be gone by the time the henchmen assembled, and if Shego was still in the shower – well, whatever the case, the intruder would be long gone before anyone could hope to catch her.

“Shego is more than I can handle, thank you,” he said stiffly, stepping toward the stairwell and nodding up it. He needed this woman out of his lair, before Shego could see her and he risked having another catfight on his hands. “Goodbye, please leave.” If only it was that easy. She understood the hint. No one was that stupid.

She still took her time sauntering over to him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said flippantly. “She’s not even giving you one-hundred percent.”

True, he wasn’t taking advantage of his accomplice’s full potential, but she did what he asked of her and that was enough. He still couldn’t stop his brow from scrunching as the intruder passed him and took the first step up. He nearly reached out to snatch her by an arm. “What do you mean?” he all but demanded.

The young woman paused to glance back. “She’s on drugs,” she answered simply, as though it were obvious.

And maybe it was obvious to anyone who knew the troubled superhuman. He’d like to think he knew her well enough. He’d smelled evidence on her before, and she’d made a friendly offer the other night and had the paraphernalia and everything. “I am aware she smokes—”

Priscilla Kimbley laughed, the single bark echoing up the stairwell, and she clamped her mouth shut as if only realizing now how well sound traveled in the lair’s stony corridors. “Nah, not that kind,” she said, toning it down to little more than a giggle. She set her hands on her hips, beaming down at Drakken, and he hated having to tilt his head to look up at the woman standing several steps above him now as she explained. “This shit puts her out cold. And I do mean cold. Total chill pills. Those megalomaniacs pulling the strings of that little superhero team of hers use it to keep her under control. I can get you some, if you wanna mess with it.” She gave a nonchalant shrug, as if offering to give him some miracle drug to control someone as dangerous and unpredictable as Shego was no big deal.

“I-I know about that too,” he bluffed. But did he really? He’d had a suspicion she’d been taking something, but it could have been anything. Truthfully he hadn’t given it much thought, but he wracked his brains quickly now.

When she’d first arrived, she’d skulked through his lair half-asleep occasionally, sometimes grumbling about withdrawals late at night amidst her unique issues – issues which were just now proving to be not as benign as he’d thought, if her crispy mattress had anything to say about it. If such a drug did exist, why in the world would she be back on it? Was she relapsing? She couldn’t be. She’d been so excited to use her full power when he’d made her the enhancing gloves – why would she self-sabotage herself to turn down the heat? Where would she have even gotten such a drug?

Drakken’s mind didn’t finish reeling through the possibilities before he blurted, “She doesn’t take them anymore—”

The intruder scoffed and reached into a pocket, producing a little orange bottle. She rattled the contents. “And you believed her?” she jeered down at him.

Drakken made a reflexive grab for the bottle but the woman held it out of reach with a wicked snicker before surrendering it without further difficulty. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It had to be just a bottle of aspirin, but the label – bearing a bar code and dosage with the instructions Take with food before bed, prescribed to simply Shego – looked legitimate enough, even if it didn’t clarify what the drug was. He trusted his accomplice leagues more than this shifty intruder, and he trusted her not to weaken herself – not to mention, if she was taking it, then she would have to be in contact with the supplier, Global Justice, and there was no way—

“I’ll let you sleep on it,” said Priscilla, interrupting his doubtful train of thought. She smiled again as she backed away up the staircase. “Roofie her if you don’t believe me. Only way you’ll get to have a little fun with her.”

He had plenty of fun with Shego – Vegas and the stolen station wagon were still fairly fresh in his mind – but as the words sank in, he concluded that spray painting graffiti and pushing cars off cliffs wasn’t the kind of fun this woman was suggesting. He opened his mouth to object, to defend himself or Shego or them both, but the intruder had vanished in the blink of an eye.

Maybe Shego hadn’t been over-exaggerating when she’d said the woman was not a friend. Maybe she’d had every reason to attack her when she’d arrived on her doorstep.

Stupefied for a second too long, he was late in diving up the stairwell, reaching out to grasp at open air, hoping to catch the invisible lady in his lair, but his hand met only empty air. “I am not drugging my partner in crime,” he hissed out, knowing she must still be near enough to hear him, and strained to listen for the slightest breath or shuffle of retreating feet.

He heard nothing.

Still clutching the pill bottle in one hand, daring not stow it in a pocket lest the intruder merely steal it back – invisiblity had to grant an innate talent for pick-pocketing – Drakken climbed the staircase a few steps more, his free hand outstretched and feeling uselessly for the invisible intruder. When he decided it was a lost cause, he let his hand fall and he snorted his frustration. An invisible woman who didn’t want to be caught would be a challenge to catch without a full sweep of the lair with infrared goggles, and he simply didn’t have enough for every henchman, nor did he have his own handy.

“I am not drugging Shego,” he repeated to himself, though as he returned to his office, pills in hand, he had to wonder how often she drugged herself. He tried to guess how many pills were in the bottle – the label specified 30 – and wanted to believe that most, if not all, were still accounted for. Where had Shego even gotten the pills? Had she brought them from Go City? She couldn’t possibly still be in contact with that rotten Global Justice – that would make her a spy, wouldn’t it? He trusted her not to be a spy. He knew it in his gut! Her brothers, on the other hand…

He shook his head but it didn’t clear up the plague of second thoughts he had now about his partner.

Drakken dropped himself down in his desk chair and pushed up his glasses to rub his weary eyes until stars burst behind his eyelids. Friday night, Shego had behaved especially strangely. He didn’t want to consider the possibility it wasn’t just the alcohol to blame – but he’d been sober enough at the time she’d stolen his cheese to make out her cursing to herself about needing to eat with something she damned with enough profanity to make a sailor blush. Looking at the bottle of pills now, the instructions take with food served as a jigsaw piece he didn’t want. The puzzle was coming together and he didn’t like the picture it formed.

How had Priscilla Kimbley gotten hold of Shego’s medication anyway? Were they working together, conspiring against him? No, of course not. Shego clearly had a beef with the woman, and she reminded him at every opportunity.

He’d very much like to believe Miss Kimbley was pulling his leg, but evidence pointed to Shego’s use of the mysterious medication. He shook the bottle around again and counted carefully – recounting at least two more times for good measure. There were a few missing. So what? That was proof of nothing. That Kimbley woman could have easily stolen a few. And if Kimbley had stolen them from Shego, then she would be missing them.

As Drakken was battling to convince himself that his companion wasn’t taking some strange chill pill provided by Global Justice, soft footsteps descending the staircase made him jump.

It was only Shego, in her googly-eyed owl pajamas and soft green slippers – not the sight one would expect in a lair of all places, but regrettably a sight for sore eyes nonetheless. Her hair was still damp, and her voice was a little on the hoarse side when she croaked, “Hey,” in greeting.

Drakken didn’t realize how fast he could move until he’d stuffed the bottle in his pocket and come to stand beside her. “Are you ready for that movie now?” he blurted, though he wasn’t eager to watch it himself, if he was being honest. Somehow it felt like an appropriate change of subject.

She sniffed, nose stuffy, and gave a weak smile. “I’unno,” she said with an effort at dry wit, “are you ready to be cute and cuddly?”

His legs felt weak and his heart thrummed meekly against his ribs. He wasn’t cuddle material nor did he strive to be cute, yet the prospect she might think so gave him an itch to try it out anyway. “I-I’m—let’s not get ahead of yourselves,” he stammered with a nervous smile.

She reached out for his arm, fingers curling delicately into his sleeve. She didn’t inadvertently burn him when she touched him this time, though by the look of concentration skewing her face, she was trying hard not to. “You wanted to show me something?”

In that moment, he tried to forget just how nice she smelled fresh out of the shower, and tried to think of how lovely the orchid did instead. And then he sharply reprimanded himself – because giving the orchid a whiff when his nerves were high would only heighten them, and he didn’t need any mood enhancers, for good or for bad, at a time like this. Neither did Shego, for that matter, but he turned back for his desk and the biosphere anyway.

“Now, it’s not for keeps,” he warned, gesturing to his desk and the flower on it. “But it looks nice, no? Y-you probably shouldn’t sniff it. It has strong effects on the brain. Amplifies – uhm – maybe when you’re in a better mood.” The blossom was largely unstudied, but by what he had gathered, the potent flower could act as ecstasy or it could plunge a person into depression, and cause any number of wild mood swings depending on the circumstances.

He went on to explain the exotic pink blossom to her, the lengths he’d gone to cultivate it, and its potential – but she looked bored the entire time his mouth was moving. Maybe that Priscilla woman was right, he considered, disheartened as he set the biosphere aside. Shego really didn’t seem all that impressed by flowers, even flowers as difficult to grow as genetically-modified orchids in climate-controlled biospheres. He made a mental note to find some she did like – and corrected himself that it was only to prove Shego’s indifference wasn’t withstanding among all flowers. No one hated flowers that much, except maybe the odd villain or two who utterly despised healthy ecosystems.

Shego pulled at his sleeve. “Okay,” she said, sounding bored to death. “You like gardening. Great. Can we go back upstairs and play pretend now?” She seemed more stable now, at least.

Drakken couldn’t help a sigh. “Do I have to pretend to be cute and cuddly?” The idea still had him uncertain. Especially the idea of cuddling – a possibility seeming realer by the moment, and with her no less – well, it made his insides do a nervous jig. There were more productive ways to spend his time, and yet he was compelled to bend to her will.

She flashed an impish smile. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“Good.”

“Because you already are, flower boy.” She turned away then with a small laugh at his grunt of indignation.

Despite what should have been an offence to his villainous ego, he followed her back up the stairs. His smile on her back faded though, and he reached almost involuntarily for his pocket and the pills in it. Pills prescribed by Global Justice.

Keeping his eyes up, he studied the back of her head, eyes inadvertently drawn to something that stood out against the sheet of black. Maybe he just hadn’t walked close enough behind her to see them before. There wasn’t much to see there on the back of her head – except, of course, a grey hair or two he hadn’t noticed until now with her hair damp and sticking flat around her shoulders.

Following Shego back to his quarters, Drakken tried not to stare too hard. She seemed too young for grey hair, but he was mindful enough to keep the thought to himself. She wasn’t older than she said she was, was she? No, of course not. He’d first met her as an awkward teenager – well, technically she still was a teenager – but it was only four years ago or so that he’d first encountered her. She’d been in rough shape, but thinking back, she’d still been very much a kid then. He hadn’t been in the best shape himself either, and he’d been in even worse shape when he’d ditched her at that lonely rest stop in the middle of nowhere.

Something about that fateful day echoed at the far reaches of his mind, just out of his grasp. Something about Subject B.

Drakken mulled it over as he made a fresh batch of popcorn while Shego sheepishly swept up the mess she’d made earlier.

It wasn’t until she was sitting on his couch, awaiting his return with the bowl, did it finally resound clearly in his head and out of his mouth. “Subject B is liable to break down in a matter of years,” he muttered incredulously to himself, staring down at the grey strands standing boldly against her unnaturally iridescent raven locks.

The thought of cellular damage crossed his mind. If her body hadn’t adapted to her alien power, the plasmic fire would have destroyed her years ago as surely as it would have anyone else’s who came in contact. Thankfully the first round of researchers had clearly been wrong about her – try as she might, Subject B hadn’t destroyed herself during the metamorphosis – but that didn’t mean they were entirely wrong, either. Without a so-called chill pill to suppress the flame, was she still at risk of hurting herself? Had Global Justice been doing her a favor by regulating her alien glow in some way?

Shego glanced back at him innocently, tearing her eyes off her movie. “What was that?” he barely heard her ask.

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, sitting down awkwardly on the far end of the couch, the bowl of popcorn set on the one cushion between them.

He tried to face the movie and eat popcorn one puff at a time from the palm of his hand while his companion snacked by the handful. He didn’t make it long before his eyes slid across to her, the thoughts still wreaking havoc in his head.

She caught him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” he blurted, gaze snapping away briefly. “Um. Actually.” He was sitting on the pill bottle in his back pocket. He shifted, but it didn’t make his rear feel any better. Unabashedly studying the woman in her pajamas now, the question “Are you on any special medication?” escaped his trap.

Shego quirked her brow at him, suspicion fleeting on her face, but she laughed awkwardly. She took a guess, “Like…what? Birth control?”

He had to dismiss that one the best he could, awkwardly scratching at his neck. “Ah, no. That probably couldn’t hurt, but no, I mean – what I’m asking is – I’m just wondering if you’re taking anything. That’s all.” He swallowed and waited.

She dropped the wry playful act, her glare hardening on him. “No,” she denied, though he could hear the lie laced in her tone alone. “What makes you think that?” She needed to work on her deception skills.

“Nothing. Nothing, just…” Drakken blurted, realizing he was just as bad. His own pulse thundered in his ears. If Shego had put Priscilla up to giving him the pills, she’d be expecting him to come clean, wouldn’t she? And if she hadn’t, she’d have to expect him to return the stolen item. And if they were stolen, and if she was on medication, then maybe she needed them. “Well, actually, you said something the other night. And I just thought, if they help…maybe you’d want these back. I believe these are yours.” Swallowing doubt and anxiety and anything else, Drakken fished out the bottle from his back pocket and held his hand outstretched, bottle in his palm for her to take.

Shego’s eyes locked on the bottle. She reached for it but withdrew her hand just as quickly, wringing her fingers. “No, thanks. I don’t need that shit,” she spat – only to change her mind in the next instant. Before he could argue it or retract the offer to return the medication, she snatched up the bottle and jumped to her feet.

“It might be for your own good, Shego,” he called, leaping up to follow her to the kitchen. Her hands were emitting green cinders as she fought with the child-proof lid. He smelled melting plastic. She was heaving for breath. She was angry. What was she so angry about? It was a damn good thing he hadn’t let her sniff the flower.

“Fuck off!” she shouted vehemently, chucking the bottle with full force in the general vicinity of his sink. The half-melted bottle shattered, little white pills scattering. Before the pills had even stopped bouncing, she scrambled forward to collect him, cursing to herself. “Whose side are you on anyway?” she snapped back at him, voice cracking, as he approached the kitchen island.

“Yours!” Drakken blurted in reflex. “I mean – I thought – I thought you were on mine, is what I mean. And if they help you, maybe you should—”

“No,” she spat. She was trembling, throwing every pill she found into the sink under the running tap. She slammed cabinet doors to find the switch for the garbage disposal. “No, no, no,” she repeated to herself, to every pill she disposed of. He heard her counting them under her breath.

Once the distraught superhuman was sure that every tiny pill had been thoroughly destroyed and washed down the drain, she hovered over his sink, shaking her head as she ran her glowing hands beneath the steaming stream of water while the garbage disposal snarled tirelessly.

Drakken was quiet for a long moment, standing cautiously on the other side of the kitchen island though he knew he wasn’t out of the danger zone. Once her tremors had subsided somewhat and the steam had stopped billowing, he crept forward, daring to stand beside her and shut off the faucet. When he reached for her shoulder, he was just about zapped by the energy radiating unseen from her body.

Despite the shimmer of unchecked green glow glistening over her skin, Shego turned sharply toward him, her face thudding into his chest and arms constricting around him, squeezing the breath out of him in a bear hug comparable to his mother’s. The only difference was Shego was not his mother, and her body burned like a furnace against him, namely her hands digging into his back. He winced. The plasma burns eating holes in his shirt would need lotion later.

Bearing it, Drakken squeezed his eyes shut, choosing not to look so closely at her grey hairs, evidence she might very well be breaking down in some way. She was certainly breaking down on an emotional level, anyway. Cute and cuddly, he reminded himself as he gingerly held her by the shoulders, desperately hoping to channel whatever cute and cuddly part of him she’d been hoping for tonight even if it wasn’t his normal.

He knew the third degree was coming when his companion went rigid and roughly shoved him back, an accusatory glare written across her face. Drakken didn’t wait for her to demand answers before opening his big mouth to spill the beans.

[xsteriism]

Loyalty

by celestial-irondad

1, 095 words

so...

i should be studying but i wrote this instead. like, i have exams tmr but i wrote this.

anyway, i mixed this prompt:

with @just-the-daydreamer’s prompt:

@one-irrelevant-ghost i hope you don’t mind me using your prompt!

enjoy!

——

Peter had a shirt. Of course he did, but this one was special. Aunt May gave it to him as a joke, cackling as she teased him to wear it in front of Tony since he idolised the man so much.

Obviously, Peter swore to never wear it in front of his mentor, ever. Then his mentor had to ruin all of his plans and found out about it after he accidentally left it lying around. Tony teased him about it for weeks. Weeks!

After that though, Peter hid that stupid shirt like his life depended on it. Until...

The rogue Avengers were being pardoned. Mr. Stark, being the good man he is, agreed to let them live in the tower again. They were going to have a meeting sometime this week to discuss the living arrangements, which were entirely up to the billionaire.

Peter idolised the Avengers, but after hearing what the captain did to his mentor, he decided that his loyal allegiance was with Mr. Stark.

——

“What time is it, F.R.I.D.A.Y?” Peter asked groggily, sitting up on his soft mattress, rubbing his eyes.

“It is currently 7:34 in the morning.”

“Yeah? Where’s Mr. Stark?” The teenager shuffled out of bed, slipping his feet into fluffy slippers Ms. Potts got for him and trudged to his bathroom to freshen up.

“Boss is in the meeting room on level 86,” the Irish voice answered.

Peter sighed, making quick work of brushing his teeth. A quick glance in the mirror made him realise he was wearing his Iron Man shirt. The same one Aunt May got him.

Then, he decided against changing and picked up the glasses meant for his sensory overload and took the lift down to the meeting room.

He didn’t even have to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y for entrance, the door was unlocked and he easily slipped inside. Looking through the tinted glasses, he saw all the Avengers— both rogue and not, staring blankly at him.

The spider-ling smoothed his left hand over the print on his shirt, deliberately shifting their attention to that instead. He shuffled to Mr. Stark, clambering onto his lap after the older man reached out to him.

And what a sight the duo were.

The genius looked well-groomed, goatee trimmed properly, suit and tie fitted snugly around his body. He finished his look with his iconic tinted glasses, colour matching his tie.

Then, there was little ol’ Peter, curled up on the man’s lap, in sweats and an Iron Man shirt proudly on display, looking unkept and tired. The glasses he had on was also tinted, although nobody could see Peter’s eyes, unlike the billionaire’s.

“Tony, this is a private meeting, not for random children to listen in on,” Steve said. He sounded curious, and a little fond, even though both mentee and mentor had no idea why.

The engineer didn’t reply, instead, he watched as the kid drifted off to sleep in his lap, clutching part of his expensive suit jacket in a fist. It was no doubt going to wrinkle, but Tony couldn’t find it in him to care.

“Did you somehow acquire a child while we were gone?” Clint asked, genuinely curious. “Did his mother out of the blue dump him to you? Because that kid couldn’t have come from the time we were gone.”

Tony flared at the archer through his glasses, eyes somehow piercing and sharp. “Don’t talk about his parents.”

Natasha glanced at the child in his lap. “So it is your kid then? Same hair, probably same eyes.”

“Can we quickly wrap this meeting up?” The engineer snapped, voice not too loud, though. He didn’t want to risk waking the kid up.

The meeting went on as requested, although most of the pardoned Avengers kept glancing at Peter.

——

Tony burst into Peter’s room, no knocking or whatever. The teen jumped up to the ceiling from the unintentional scare, papers flying around from the movement.

“Suit up, Pete, Capsicle wants to have a group training session,” Tony announced, bending over to pick up the papers on the ground. “Meet you out in five.”

Before Peter had a chance to say anything, his mentor placed the papers back on the desk, closing the door on the way out.

Five minutes later, Peter felt ridiculous in his spidey suit, because he was wearing the Iron Man shirt over it. He knew he looked ridiculous, he saw himself in the mirror, but he didn’t really care. All he wanted to do was to prove a point. To himself, or to the Avengers, it didn’t really matter.

Once he entered the training room, Uncle Rhodey burst out laughing, along with Mr. Stark. The rest of the Avengers were quiet, unsure of what to feel or think.

“Let’s get this party started,” Peter cheered, as if he didn’t feel as ridiculous as he looked.

——

All the Avengers were gathered in the common area, watching a movie. It was Steve’s idea to bring the squad closer, to mend the broken bonds between them.

Peter had gone as Peter, not Spider-Man, because the suit was a little tiring to wear, and he wanted to feel his shirt against his skin.

Yes. The shirt. At the rate he was wearing it, Peter was going to have to invest in new ones. The print of Iron Man on the shirt was getting washed off, as it wasn’t stitched on and the quality wasn’t fantastic.

Peter didn’t seem to mind it, but Tony really wanted to get him a newer, better shirt. The kid wore that shirt around the Avengers religiously, as if he suddenly didn’t have any others when they were involved.

Tony also couldn’t help but feel happy whenever Peter wore that shirt with pride and joy. He knew what his kid was doing, parading in his Iron Man shirt.

The genius had been afraid, when the Avengers were pardoned and was supposed to move in. With how the boy acted around Steve, Tony thought he would lose him just because the kid liked the good and righteous cap better.

Then his adorable, innocent and pure kid walked in on the meeting, wearing that shirt and those sweats and the tinted glasses. And when he brought everyone’s attention to the shirt by running his hand over the image, Tony nearly cried because that was basically a declaration of his loyalty.

He didn’t have to worry about Peter leaving him, because his kid would always be there for him.

[tommyquackson]

Not Working | p. parker | part 4

Not My Gif

summary: you and peter are together but maybe it’s just not working anymore

warnings: angst, depression, fluff cussing i think?

note: this was the final chapter and i loved this series. thank you guys for supporting it and showing it love. Make sure you request and read my other fics. ok love y’all enjoy!!!

this is Midway School of Science and Technology calling to inform you, you’ve missed 13 consecutive school days and if you miss 2 more you’ll be at risk of failing your courses and we will have to send police over to do a wellness check. We hope to see you in school tomorrow. Have a great day

So it’s been 13 days. You haven’t left your house in 13 fucking days. You’re beginning to smell yourself, you haven’t bathed or showered since the night everything went down. You just lay in bed, watching whatever black and white shows playing on MeTV at the time. You only eat about once a day, when reciting old life insurance commercials begins to hurt your brain. Your phone died a long time ago and you’re just now listening to the messages in your home phone.

You click delete on the message and let the next one play.

hey y/n, uh it’s Brad. Look i know you hate me but you haven’t been at school and nobodies heard from you so I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I do care about you and i wanted to say-

you roll your eyes and click delete again.

hey honey! Aunt May here, just wanted to let you know me and peter are safe and back home. I’d love for you to come over and have dinner on thursday, and don’t worry Peters visiting Tony so he won’t be here. Call me back or just show up okay hon. Love you bye.

Your hand dangled over the delete button before you sighed deeply. May never did anything to you, but how were you gonna pull it together enough to get to her. You were exhausted all the time, even if you never do anything. You looked at the time and date on your home phone and realized it’s Wednesday. You sigh deeply and pick up your home phone to call May. 

ring ring ring

“Y/n! Hey honey, how are you?” Mays voice sings through the phone and for a moment the world seems a little brighter. 

“Hey May,” You croak out, you havent spoken in almost 2 weeks and your throat hurts. “I’m not doing well May, everything hurts and I cant even get out of bed. I cant go to school, or eat or sleep or shower May I hate this. I hate it.” Your already raspy voice breaks into sobs and you wonder if she can even understand what youre saying. 

“I’m on my way y/n, its gonna be okay. I love you and I’ll see you in 10 minutes.” May speaks strongly before hanging up the phone. You do nothing but change pajamas and grab a bag of chips before moving back into your bed and wait for May. 

It’s not long before May is knocking and slowly opening your front door. 

She looks at you with tears in her eyes before walking over and oulling you into a hug. It feels weird to have human contact but you dont pull away, just allow her to cuddle you. 

“Lets get you a bath, I’ll help you wash your hair.” She smiles lightly before pulling you up and towards the bathroom.

 You sit on the toilet while she gets the water and bubbles ready. Once its ready she turns away while you strip down and step in, letting your body sink into the hot water and lavendar bubbles. She immediately picks up water in a cup and pours it over your head, careful to not let it spill in your eyes, shes treating you like a mother treats an infant but you dont have the capacity to stop her. You sit in silence for a while as she brushes through the mats in your hair until you decide to speak up. 

“May? Does he love me?” You croak out

She chuckles lightly before answering. 

“When I first met Ben, I knew right away I loved him. He swept me away without knowing it. It was instant love, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. The way he looked at me made the world disappear and I knew it was the kind of love they write books about. The kind of love that turns rainy days from gloomy to comfy, turns blistering heat into warmth and fun, Ben turned everything into a fairytale effortlessly. 

When you and Peter were in the 7th grade, and we threw him the birthday party, that youd planned most of, I remember looking at Ben and he was looking at me with the fairytale look. Ya know the one all the hot actors do in movies. Anyway, he was giving me that look and when I turned my head and watched you give Peter his present, I saw him give you the look, and you gave it right back it was precious. After that, everyday I saw you standing with Peter, he looked at you with the fairytale look, When he talks about you its with the same adoration he talks about Ben. 

There is no doubt in my mind Peter loves you with every bone in his super body, y/n. You’re young and he can be a bit niave sometimes but he loves you unconditionally honey. You love him more than he loves you and he loves you more than you love him.” She stops brushing my hair and without a word begins washing my body with bodywash. I didnt even realize I had started crying until I saw a tear fall into the tub.

“I love him May. I feel like I need him to breathe, to live. I just dont understand how he could choose her over me.” 

“Because hes a teenage boy and sometimes he doesnt think about what hw has, hes just like his uncle ben i’ll tell you that. You need to talk to him, maybe not now but soon, you need to tell him everything in your brain until its empty and your throat hurts from talking, and he will listen until his ears are sore from listening and his head hurts from understanding. Now, come get dressed and I’ll order us some pizza” May shakes her hands and drys them while handing you a fluffy towel. 

She spends the rest of the night, telling you about this season of the Bachelorette while she helps you clean and do laundry. 

“Thank you May.” You hug her as she grabs her purse to leave. 

“Anything for you baby,” She kisses your head and wavees goodbye. You take a deep breathe and walkback to your room, plugging in your phone to charge. 

After a few minutes it turns back on and slowly notifications start coming in, texts and calls and emails and dms from people and your old friends. You clear them all and head for you contacts, you find Peters name and decide to text instead of call. 

                                         peter

                                                                                                                    Hey

                                                                                                Can you come over?

hey, is everything okay? 

                                                           I need to talk to you

Of course, I’m on my way.

You sigh and begin writing down everything you need to talk about, until you hear a knock on your window. You shakily stand up move towards your window, opening it and taking a step back.

“Hi” Peter whispers with his hands in his pockets.

“Hi” You whisper back.

“What’d you uh wanna talk about” Peter asks, slowly bouncing on the ball of his feet.

“Uh okay, um please sit. So um, as you probably know i haven’t been to school in a minute and uh that’s because ive been laying in my bed depressed and confused. May come over today and she helped a lot and she convinced me to talk to you about everything and that’s what i’m doing so I just need you to listen to everything in gonna spill out and i’m gonna do my best to make everything make as much sense as possible.” You look to Peter for confirmation and continue when he nods quickly.

“Okay uh first, I wanna say I’m sorry, for everything. For Brad, for ignoring you and yelling at you and for being a shitty friend. You were right about Brad and i’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, I just wanted so bad to be wanted ya know? I was feeling so insecure about you loving me that I ran to the first person that showed interest in me. I’m also sorry i basically ditched you guys for him, i just couldn’t look at any of you without feeling nearly sick. But i miss my best friends and I miss you Peter.

I’ve known since we were children that you were special to me. I always assumed it was one sided because I’d seen you go after other girls so i felt like there was no way you could ever love me as much as i love you, but I know now that you do, or did or do i don’t know but I do know that for me, you’re everything I need. We’re soulmates Pete, I can feel it. I feel deep in my heart that the universe made us just to be together and being without you would be to deny the universe herself and who am i? I need you so much when you aren’t around me i can barely breathe and a part of me is missing. I love you unconditionally and I always have.

What you did with Mj killed me, shattered my heart because I felt like once again, you chose her over me, your bestfriend and girlfriend and I hated that feeling each time I got it. The night i broke up with you I cried until my head hurt to much to stay awake, i felt stupid for thinking you wanted me more than her and I understood it. I looked at Mj and it felt like a no brained to pick her but it still never felt right. I know you didn’t mean it and we’re still so young peter. We’re basically kids trying to form a life long relationship and we don’t know what we’re doing. I don’t know how or what i’m going to do but I wanna be with you peter. I would have to take it slow of course but that’s where i’m at with us. So um yea.” You let out a sigh of relief of getting everything off your chest. You look away from Peter and wipe the tears that had fallen during your mini speech.

“I love you. I do. So much. Ever since our breakup i’ve been planning and wondering how to get you back. I felt lost without you and I never wanted you to feel less than. You’re perfect in every way y/n. You’re my oxygen and MJ is honestly just a friend. She could never make me feel the way you make me feel. We’ve got May and Ben type of love babe I swear we do. It was a stupid mistake but of you give me another chance I promise I will spend the rest of my life proving to you you mean the world to me and i will choose you again and again. I love you y/n and i want you to always know that.” Peter speaks through tears as he pulls your body close to his. He whispers how much he loves you against your temple as you break down and sob into his chest.

“Can you stay the night?” You whisper up at him.

“Will you let me take you out? Friday?” He looks hopefully at you. You smile lightly and bite your lip.

“Yes.”

“Then yes. I’ll stay with you” He kisses your forehead once more, before pulling you both under the covers to cuddle into you fall asleep to the beat of peters heart.

taglist: @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @silver-winter-wolf @just4muggles @randomtrashpanda @sunshine-ybba @jin-hyuks @lovely-geek @jackiehollanderr @des0rbitadx @flowersgirl02 @eridanuswave @dear-selena @lavender-lovin @greatpizzascissorstaco

[justabigassnerd]

Invisible

Pairing - Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,952

Warnings - swearing, mentions of Tony being a shit dad

Summary - your dad Tony would rather spend time with your twin brother instead of you

A/N - Hey y’all! Sorry for the long wait for this fic, it was another anon request and I happened to be listening to ‘Invisible’ from Beetlejuice the musical when I started this fic hence the name. As usual guys, please send in requests and enjoy!

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“Hey y/n!” You spin around to see the smiling face of your best friend Peter Parker as he approaches you as you’re both leaving the school gates.

“Hey Pete.” You reply, stopping to let Peter catch up with you.

“So, what’s your weekend plan? Surely you have great weekends with Mr Stark.” Peter asks, grinning widely as you both walk down the path towards the train station.

“Well I don’t know; he’ll probably be hanging out with Kevin. That’s all he ever seems to do, I think Clint’s coming up to the Tower for the weekend so if he’s not busy I’ll probably hang with him, unless you want to do something?” You say, glancing at your friend.

“If you’re sure you have no plans, Ned just bought a new Star Wars Lego set and we’re gonna build it together tomorrow. So, you can come over and join us, Ned and I wouldn’t mind the extra help.” Peter says, explaining his plans for the weekend.

“Cool, text me when you want me to come over and I’ll be there.” You say as you both get on the train to take you back home.

“I still don’t understand why you go to school and Kevin doesn’t, I mean you’re twins so it’s not like he’s too old for school.” Peter enquires, glancing up from his phone to look at you.

“Dad thinks Kevin’s ready to take over the mantle of Iron Man whenever he retires so he doesn’t go to school so they can work on a new suit together. I wanted to go to school to have something normal in my life and dad couldn’t care less when I mentioned it.” You say, lifting your gaze slightly to meet Peter’s eyes. Before Peter could reply the train pulls into the station you need to get off at, so you say a hasty goodbye before getting off the train. You continue the walk home alone with only your headphones blasting music to keep you company. When you arrive back at the tower you enter the lift heading up to the floor your room is on. As you exit you hear noises coming from the common room, you approach carefully, opening the door quietly, when you notice Clint on the sofa you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.” You say, holding back a laugh as you see Clint jump in the air violently, turning around and laughing at himself for jumping so easily.

“I need to have a conversation with Nat about teaching you how to sneak up on people, she definitely taught you too well. But that’s not what you asked, I came down today just so I could get some extra sleep in to save me getting up early tomorrow with the risk of waking the kids and Laura up and so I could see my favourite niece.” He says, getting up and crossing the room to bring you into a hug. You always felt comforted by hugs from the Avengers, since most of them were male they each became a father figure to you, filling in what Tony was doing with Kevin but not with you.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m your only niece.” You say, walking over to the sofa with Clint and settling yourself down on the sofa next to Clint as you watch whatever he’s put on the tv. After a few minutes of the two of you sat in silence you decide to speak up.

“Clint, could I talk to you about something?” You speak up, wringing your hands nervously as you avoid looking at him.

“Of course, what’s up?” Clint says, shifting his attention instantly from the tv to you. You smile lightly at his quick reaction, knowing that Tony would never give you this attention.

“It’s about my dad. My whole life basically he’s ignored me, always thought Kevin was the superior of the two of us, never cared about how I felt or what I wanted. He made me feel invisible, I can’t even talk to him myself about this issue because if I stay near him for too long he gets pissy at me, saying I’m disturbing his and Kevin’s time together even though they spend every single day together in the lab. All I want is my dad to acknowledge me, I’m doing really well at school and they want me to go for some scholarships to places like Harvard and Stanford and I can’t even tell him that because he just doesn’t care. All he cares about is Kevin and making him the perfect suit.” You rant, tears brimming in your eyes as you pull your knees up to your chest and hide your face. You look up when Clint rests a gentle hand on your back, a simple gesture that you appreciated before he brings you into another hug.

“Hey, it’s okay. I know, I get it, not having a father in your life is the worst thing. Trust me I know; I think it’s wrong that Tony is treating your brother better than he’s treating you. He clearly can’t see a good thing when it’s right in front of him, you’re an insanely smart girl, what was it? Harvard and Stanford? He should know that when you have kids, they need you in their life because they need that support. I knew when my kids were born that I was going to look after them no matter what. I love them all equally, even if one of them was being annoying or in a bad mood. Tell you what, tomorrow, before I have to get some work done, I’ll have a chat with Tony. Father to father, explain how you feel.” Clint says, his words soothing and gentle as he rubs your back to calm you down.

“Thank you, for just listening to me, it means more than words can say.” You say as you pull away from the hug.

“No problem kid, I’m always here if you need me, and if I’m not at the tower, I’m only a phone call away.” He says, a smile on his face as he looks down at you.

“I’m gonna head to bed now. If I’m not here in the morning, I’ve gone to Peter’s, I’m hanging out with him and Ned tomorrow.” You say before heading into your room and getting ready for bed despite it only just turning dark. You lie down in your bed, quickly letting sleep overtake you.

You wake up with a text from Peter on your phone asking if you want to come over to his house at eleven to start the Lego set with him and Ned. You quickly shoot back a message saying that you’ll be as quick as you can, noting the time of ten fifteen. You quickly shower and get dressed and make yourself some breakfast. Once you’ve finished you head down to Peter’s apartment where his Aunt May lets you in, greeting you happily and letting you go to Peter’s room. You knock on his door where he lets you in as he and Ned greet you and you all sit on the floor, building the Lego set, laughing and cracking jokes together. As you draw close to finishing the Lego set you feel your phone starting to vibrate in your hoodie pocket, you pull it out, shocked to see that Tony is the one calling you.

“Sorry, do you mind if I step outside for a second? I gotta take this.” You say, standing up when you get the nod of approval from both boys and stand out in the corridor, taking a deep breath before you answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, not really knowing how to initiate a conversation with Tony.

“Hey kid, Clint said you were at Peter’s. Is there any chance you could come home? I think we need to have a chat.” He says quickly.

“Yeah, I’ll be home in a bit.” You reply before saying goodbye and hanging up. You head back into Peter’s room, explaining the call and both Peter and Ned encourage you to go home and speak to Tony. After hugging each of the boy’s goodbye you head back home, anxiety bubbling in your stomach as you get closer to the tower. When you arrive at the tower, FRIDAY tells you that Tony is waiting for you in your room. You get in the lift which takes you up to the correct floor and you make your way to your room, opening the door slowly and seeing Tony stood by your bed, a piece of paper in his hand. When he notices you come in, he puts it down, turning to you with a sad smile on his face.

“Hey.” He says as you walk in and sit on your bed.

“Hey dad.” You reply.

“Look, Clint spoke to me this morning. Well, I say spoke he more told me off for the way I had been treating you, he told me about how well you were doing in school and that I made you feel invisible. I know that sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it, I understand now how hanging out with Kevin all the time made you feel. I was just too blinded by making the perfect suit for your brother that I almost forgot I had a daughter. I’m such a bad father and I wouldn’t be surprised if you hate me.” Tony rambles, looking down at his hands out of fear. The room is silent for a few seconds before you speak up.

“I don’t hate you dad. Yes, you were pretty shit but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a second chance. All I wanted was some time to spend with my dad and now maybe we could work on that, maybe split days or something so you spend time with both Kevin and me or organise day’s out where we can all be together.” You say, taking Tony’s hand, making him look up at you with a slightly shocked look on his face before he smiles at you which you return.

“How about we have a movie night? Just the two of us, Kevin can hang out with his friends or something, I know he’s wanted to have some time with his friends even if he enjoys working on the suit. It’s a win win situation.” Tony says, his smile growing as you nod. He then pulls you into a hug which you gratefully return, burying your face in his chest.

As it slowly becomes dark you meet Tony in the common room, a smile on both of your faces as he lays out the snacks and drinks while you pick a movie, settling on ‘Beetlejuice’. You watch the film in silence, you cuddled up against Tony’s side as he keeps his arm securely wrapped around you. As Beetlejuice begins to explain his past before he became a demon, he mentions attending Harvard which prompts Tony to pause the movie, turning to you with a smile.

“You probably saw me looking at your school report earlier today, and I can’t believe that your school wants you to go for scholarships to Harvard or Stanford. That’s amazing! I’m so unbelievably proud of you, even if only found out today. I promise I’m going to help you whenever you need me too. I love you y/n. He says, squeezing your shoulder slightly as you smile up at him before pressing play. Tony stayed true to his word, helping you whenever you needed him, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have your father back in your life.