#I can barely do my eyebrows every other day decently (because I don't fucking wash it off) so for me to do more?

[shay-puppitty]

Oh to be a boy with dark eye make-up on....

[touyasdoll]

Complicated - Chapter Two

Chapter One: Here

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x reader

Warnings: self-degradation/self-doubt

Word count: 2.2k

A/n: Gonna rework this and ditch the first person POV, jsyk.

A/n pt. 2: This story does contain spoilers for the show/manga. The dates/ages of characters are going to be shifted around a bit.

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

It's been two days. Is he gonna call? Text? Completely forget I exist?

I sigh, trying to expel the anxiety balled up in the pit of my stomach.

Why would he call? We talked for, what, five minutes? He seemed older too. You were in your damn school uniform, idiot. He's obviously got more important shit to do than chat up a schoolgirl who can't mind her own fucking business.

"Ugh," I groan to no one but myself in my apartment. "I'm really just the biggest fucking jackass, aren't I?"

Flopping down on my bed, I let out another weighty sigh and bury my face in the plethora of pillows piled beneath me.

Relax. Maybe he'll text. Maybe he won't. And if he doesn't he's just sparing you the embarrassment that you would inevitably bring upon yourself.

A yawn escapes my lips as I feel a wave of drowsiness wash over me. Glancing at the clock, I could see it was hardly 5 PM.

Fucked up sleep schedule, here I come.

The familiar comfort of my bed allows me to quiet my thoughts enough to fall into a shallow sleep, until I'm startled awake by a vibrating sensation coming from underneath my chin.

I blink against the harsh light emitting from my phone, squinting to see who was disturbing me.

What the--oh shit!

It was an unknown number. Recognizing that it could be him, I sit up faster than I have ever managed to after a nap and fumble the phone into my palm, eagerly sliding my thumb across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello?"

My breath hitches and I bite my lip in anticipation as I wait, eager to hear his deep, silky voice on the other end.

But the pause on the other side of the line seems just a little too long. Something is off.

Is this him? Is it..just some creep? A prank? What the hell?

"We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty."

My eyes slam shut, a shake reverberating through my spine as a cocktail of anger and embarrassment wash over me.

That's it. Hope is off limits from now on.

"Fucking great."

I tap the end button, half ready to throw my phone out the window.

Instead, I decide to check and see if I missed anything else while I was out.

Hope is off limits.

I shake my head, trying to erase the little embers of hope that persist, praying that maybe he did reach out.

To my surprise, there's a text from an unrecognized number.

Unknown: You free tonight, doll?

Holy shit.

Looking above the message, I see: Today 6:58 PM. I wince as I dare to look at the clock, which mercifully reads 7:26 PM.

Tapping the text box, I don't give myself the chance to overthink this opportunity.

Me: For you? Sure thing.

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I nod my head, processing the sudden burst of confidence I seem to have found.

I'm not like this. What is it about this guy? He's just that--a guy. One that I don't know. And now I'm just gonna meet up with him?

He's literally a stranger. Who the hell do I think I am?? Is my vagina just running things now? Gonna run out and meet up with some strange dude, because he's pretty and charming?

You know who else was pretty and charming?? Ted Bundy.

That's right, you said it. This is dumb, logically. This is everything everyone’s ever warned you about.

My phone buzzes and my heart rate spikes in response, tearing me from my spiraling doubts.

Unknown: Our spot. 30 minutes. See you there.

A noise that I've certainly never made before eeks past my lips as I process his instructions.

Fuck it. The possibility of this guy being a serial killer has been assessed. I'm going, risks be damned.

You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot.

I sigh for the umpteenth time today, waging war in my own mind.

I don't know what it is about him, but I have to see him again. Nothing bad is going to happen. It'll be fine.

That's what I tell myself as I exhale, until I catch my reflection.

My hair is disheveled, my mascara askew. I didn't even bother to take off my uniform before I passed out.

As if I weren't flustered enough, now I gotta make myself looking somewhere near presentable and get down there in time.

Here goes nothing.

Fifteen minutes fly by and I think I've managed it as I step back to look myself over in the mirror once more.

The shortest pair of high-waisted shorts I own, paired with a low-cut black crop top and my favorite slip-ons. My make-up doesn't look perfect and there's not much of it, but it's touched up, and my hair is at least brushed.

Okay, no turning back now.

Grabbing my keys, I tuck my phone in my back pocket and make my way to the meeting place.

+++++++++++++++

Our spot. The man is smooth and I think that he knows it.

I re-read the last message he sent for probably the thirteenth time in the past five minutes.

The clock in the corner of the screen reads 8:02.

Maybe he won’t show. Maybe this is a joke. He and his buddies with come around a corner and laugh as they speed off.

Damn, can I chill? No. He’s going to be here. And I’m going to act like a human fucking being. A normal girl. Someone he could like; I’m capable of that.

Aren’t I?

Scanning my surroundings yet again, I take in the scenery. I never really get out at night, but the city looks so pretty this way. There’s not too much traffic, especially considering that it’s a Friday night, but there are some people milling about up and down the sidewalk. Some look like they’re on their way home. Some look like they’re on their way out for a night on the town.

“Hey there.”

My eyes are quick to follow the sound of his voice. I look up and he’s strolling up to the bench where I’m seated, the same one where I bandaged his arm the other day.

His hands are shoved in his front pockets, thumbs pushed through the belt loops of the tight, black jeans he’s sporting. His white t-shirt dangles off of his frame in a way that suits him, offering a glimpse of his muscular chest. A black coat completes his ensemble and he certainly looks the part of the typical bad boy.

But, damn, does it look so good on him.

“Hey, there. How’s the arm?”

I scoot over a bit, allowing for ample space between us if he were to take a seat. To my surprise, he sits towards the middle of the bench, so that his thigh brushes against mine as he settles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, glancing down and covering the noise I want to make with a quiet clearing of my throat.

“It’s good. You do make a pretty decent nurse, sweetheart.”

He grins and pulls his coat sleeve back, revealing the still bandaged wound.

“Wait, have you changed that?”

You’re such a mom. You better hope he’s into MILFs, because otherwise this ain’t gonna get you where you wanna go, girl.

His brow furrows in an expression that tells me all I need to know before he even speaks.

“What do you mean? Changed what?”

A quiet sigh leaves my lungs as I hold out my hand.

“May I?”

His puzzled expression doesn’t falter, but he shrugs and offers his forearm up for inspection.

Carefully, I pull back the tape holding the bandages together and slowly begin to unwrap them.

That is, until the smell hits me. I barely catch of glimpse of the reddened skin before my nostrils detect the scent of burned flesh and excess viscera.

“Oh, dear. Have you even unwrapped this thing?”

Trying not to agitate anything further, I delicately wrap the bandages back around his arm, taping them down once again.

“No, should I have?”

I look up and my gaze meets his, a sense of true ignorance evident in his expression; I try not to laugh. I really try, but a soft giggle escapes nonetheless.

“Yes! I mean, if it doesn’t hurt, I’m sure it’s not that bad right now, but you should be cleaning and redressing a wound like that once every 12 hours at the very least. It’s been what, like, at least 50 at this point?”

His good arm reaches for the back of his neck, scratching at it as he dons an apologetic half smile.

“Sorry, I’m not exactly nurturing by nature, doll. I don’t know the first fucking thing about this kind shit.”

I cock a sympathetic smile as I look at him, sitting there looking almost helpless. I guess he is, in a sense. It’s actually kinda cute how he doesn’t seem to have an inkling of how to properly care for himself.

Because that’s absolutely what you want in a potential relationship. Someone to fix, how fun! Why not open up a shop for broken boys? Girl, when will you learnnn??

“Well, I don’t have anything on me right now, but if you don’t mind coming back to my place, I could clean it up there? And I’ll teach you how to keep up with it this time.”

I guess not today, motherfucker.

“Coming to my rescue again. You must be in a hero course, huh, doll?”

His smile is so naturally disarming as he stands and offers his hand out before me.

“I don’t mind, if you’re sure you don’t. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and I don’t wanna be a burden. I didn’t ask you out tonight for you to have to play doctor on me again.”

He seems so sweet, so genuine. Maybe he is broken, but everyone deserves kindness. He looks like he hasn’t seen much of that. And as cliché as it is, maybe I can help him. Maybe he can help me.

I slip my hand in his, smiling as flirtatiously as I can manage as he pulls me to my feet.

“I don’t mind. I was kind of hoping I might get to play doctor on you again anyway. Maybe you could even return the favor.”

I brush my fingers against his as our hands disconnect, taking a page from his own book and watching his expression as my skin glides against his.

Or maybe we could just do this. This works too. No muss, no fuss. But oh my goodness what if what I just did was weird and he’s not even interested??

His eyebrows rise for just a moment as he chuckles and glances down, still grinning as he puts his hands in his coat pockets.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t know much about medicine, but I do know how to give a pretty thorough physical exam.”

Something twitched deep inside my belly as my breath caught in my throat and I damn near tripped over my own two feet as we started walking.

Thankfully, his reflexes were quicker than my inate ability to fuck things up and his good arm reached out to steady my frame as he stepped in front of me.

The delicious scent of his cologne mingling with remnant cigarette smoke nearly made me dizzy as my hands connected with his chest, now completely unable to ignore the muscles just beneath his thin shirt.

“You all right there, doll?”

Long, slender fingers find their way under my chin. His thumb just barely brushing the edge of my bottom lip as he strokes it over my chin.

His eyes are practically piercing mine as he carefully lifts my face to his. Who knew being in such close proximity to someone so beautiful could be this paralyzing.

Holy fuck. Forget fixing me. He can break me and I’ll probably thank him for it.

The strong hand on the small of my back threatens to rob me of my breath all over again and I have to fight to keep any semblance of composure in his arms.

“Yeah.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and will myself to break eye contact. “You always have girls falling for you this quickly?”

I pity laugh at my own joke, wishing my quirk was something that would allow me to disappear.

But then he’s chuckling too. It’s melodious at first, but then it morphs into a deep reverberation that sends all the right chills down my spine as I level my eyes with his again.

He looks like an enigma personified. His eyes look so gentle and warm, but his smile reads so sad. The words that leave his lips sound like both a warning and an invitation to my flushe red ears.

“Trust me, princess. You don’t wanna fall for me. I’m no good for you.”

Oh, but it’s too late for that.

[heresathreebee]

Waters Brackish and Briny (four)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: the first of many strange and unusual occurrences to come in your new home. Previous Masterlist Next

Tags: 15+ | 2k words | hauntings, an argument, physical intimidation 😬, secrets, crying

AN: hey remember there were ghosts in Things Seen and Heard? Personally I hate angst so sorry y'all 😔 I will NOT leave it here for long

SECOND WEEK

Ralph went back to work and the house became empty once more. Empty except for yourself and the house. And possibly a rat or two. You set up traps and finished moving the furniture in the downstairs rooms into place. The previous owners left a decently conditioned upright piano behind when they moved. A few scuffs on the legs and a toy soldier in the strings, but perfectly playable and barely out of tune. Nothing a little warm up couldn't change.

You ate lunch on the piano bench, glaring at the unfinished archway leading to the solar room. Should you sweep first or measure the windows to be fitted for panes? Do you want regular clear glass or some stained glass? Get crazy with it? 

You waste a couple hours playing basic melodies and manage to squeeze in time to do all the measurements for the windows before 3 pm. You take down the paper on the floor most window holes and sweep the dust and leaves and branches outside. You mop till the hardwood floor shines but you hate the white beech wood and add varnish to the To Do list. 

You ring up the Vayle boys you met the day you unloaded your furniture. "Hey Eddie! I was planning on making something for you and Cole as a thank you but I need some supplies first." 

It rained in the afternoon and Ralph came home with mud on his pants. "Baby what happened? Did you fall?" 

Ralph looked supremely annoyed. "One of the kids took a tumble and grabbed me for support. We both went down." 

You know he's in a sour mood but you can't stifle your laughter. You coo at him, looking over the damage to his suit. He's got mud caked on the seat of his pants and flecks of it as high as the back of his neck. You help him strip as much as appropriate with guests in the house. 

Your husband sniffs the vanilla scent from the air and looks at you incredulously. "Did you make cookies?" 

"Yeah," you said, "for Eddie and Cole." 

The boys waved at your husband from the kitchen counter. He gives a lustless wave back and trudges upstairs in his under things. You tip the boys with the rest of the cookies in an old dish and send them on their way home. 

You open your bedroom door to find Ralph butt ass naked and on his knees looking for something. 

"We should do this more often," you tease. 

Ralph looks up and raises an eyebrow at you then notices the position he's put himself in. "Now's not the time for jokes: do you know where the luffa is?" 

You cross your arms. "Well it's not under the bed…" 

"Helpful." Ralph climbs to his feet and his nose bumps yours. "Where. Is. The luffa." 

"Behind the bathroom door on a hook." 

"Why?" Ralph takes three steps towards the bathroom, then quickly retraces them and this time his forehead collides with you none too gently. "And not saving me a cookie? Uncool." 

"Open your mouth." His eyes go dark for a second and you roll yours. "Do it." 

You plant the last cookie in his mouth and flop onto the bedspread. "Go. Shower. I'll clean up the kitchen." 

The house creaks at night. Sometimes the sounds make the hair on your neck stand on end, but you simply squeeze Ralph and drift back to sleep. In the haze of a dream you think you hear something small and glass break a few rooms over but you can't hold onto your memories for long like this. 

Except tonight there is more than sounds. Beneath the smell of your body wash on Ralph's skin, something tickles the back of your throat. It's acrid and raw pulling you from the fringes of sleep into reality fast. You sniff the air and the scent seems to grow ten times stronger. It's like… it's like… 

You shake Ralph by the shoulder. He doesn't stir an inch. The smell is so strong you're choking on it. You grab Ralph and shake him like a doll until he bursts into wakefulness. 

"What? What?!" 

"Do you smell that?" 

"What?" His eyes are completely unfocused, face pinched in annoyance. 

"It smells like…" you turn on the bedside lamp much to his dismay. "It's like gasoline or something." 

Ralph growls and rubs at his eyes. "Exhaust fumes maybe. Ralph! We have to get up– we have to get out!" 

Somehow you manage to drag him out of bed and down the stairs. The smell gets weaker but it's still there burning in your nostrils like actual fire. Your eyes search frantically for that yellow orange flicker in every room to no avail. It doesn't ease your fear. 

"Come on." You push Ralph outside and the man almost falls off the wrap-around porch. His eyes are glued shut, legs shaking as he stands, and trapped in that sleep state. 

You rack your brain for ideas. Is the car on fire? Should you check the garage? Do you have a working fire extinguisher? There's one in the garage by the door but you doubt it's up to date. 

"Ralph baby please wake up, I need you…" 

You cling to his arm and he manages to crack one eye open. "The fuck is going on?" 

"Something's wrong," you stutter, "I think he's here."

Ralph opened his other eye and looked at you. His head swiveled to and fro over his shoulders, trying to peer out into the dark cover of night to find anyone lurking in the dark. His grip on your arm is tight, almost hurts. He looks back at you, puzzled. 

"Where?" 

You didn't know where, in fact you don't know why you said that. He had no idea where the two of you were. For all you know he might not even be a he at all. You've never met them but you're haunted by them. 

You shake your head and focus on the danger of now. "Fumes. I woke up and it smelled like exhaust fumes in our room." 

"I didn't smell anything," Ralph says. 

You growl. "I did. We need to call someone, we can't go back in the house. What if it's filled with gas and there is an open flame somewhere?" 

Ralph looks around then tries to walk past you towards the door. You catch him with a look of disbelief. 

"Did you not just hear a single word I said?!" 

Ralph sweeps your bruising grip from his arm. He keeps walking but he never breaks eye contact with you. He's definitely awake now. 

"If there's fumes, it's coming from the garage. Lord knows you're not going to let me look knowing that," he says stepping past the threshold into the mud closet next to the kitchen, "so we need to call someone." 

He picks up the phone from its cradle and dials 9-1-1. "Unless you have some secret satelite phone hidden in the barn, I'm all ears on how we call someone…" 

He's right. He's being an asshole about it but he's right. You can smell the fumes as you step in, desperate not to be far from him no matter what happens. Ralph plucks the housecoat from the hook by the door and fits it around your shoulders. You didn't realize you were shivering. 

The sheriff comes out tonight and it's half past 2 am. You and Ralph are waiting outside, a reasonable distance from the house in case an explosion was imminent but it never came. Sheriff Laughton brought a fire team and they searched the house. 

Travis–  as he asked them to call him– asked a few meandering questions. Ralph held your hand and answered as many as he dared, looking to you for the questions you could answer better. They both noticed your thousand yard stare but said nothing. 

Travis came back with the fire team and a long, befuddled face. "They checked over every inch of that house and didn't find anything except a broken lightbulb in the laundry closet." 

Ralphie did not return your gaze, instead he asked. "Nothing at all?" 

Travis scratched his head. "If there was something, it's gone now. I might have your cars looked at just in case, there's a mechanic about 10 miles yonder I can give you directions to." 

Ralph's hand smoothed over your shoulder to try warming you up. "No, no that's OK, I have a mechanic right here." 

You slap his chest for teasing you but your weak smile falls not a moment later. How can that be? They found nothing? Had you imagined the whole thing? But it had felt so real… 

By the time you brought your mind back to the present, you found Ralph had moved you to the kitchen and offered Travis a cup of coffee for his troubles. The fire team was packed up and driving off the property, leaving only the sheriff's cruiser out in that empty night. 

"Ralph," you whispered over the sink. "I think we should call Reagan…" 

"No." 

You blinked. He hadn't even taken a second to consider it, just… dismissed you out of hand like you were an annoyance. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared. 

"If you won't, I will." 

Ralph beat you to the phone and blocked your path, you glimpsed Travis standing awkwardly in the door but paid him no more than a passing thought. 

This was about to get ugly. 

"I. Am not crazy." You keep your voice low but the quiver of anger still seeps through. "I know what I smelled. It was real. If you're not going to ask for help, then fine, but do not stand in my way because of your pride." 

Ralph had that look in his eyes– the dangerous look. "Oh, honey, no… I told you– we are not calling Reagan." 

He kept shaking his head minutely, like it was the only thing keeping him from screaming. "That's final. I mean it, baby. I will lock you in that fucking basement if you touch that phone. I will burn this fucking house down before I let you even look at that dial." 

Your jaw hit the floor but before you could protest, Ralph had your arm in a death grip as he began to drag you out into the hallway. He was probably trying to push you to the bedroom but his out of character threat had rocked you. 

"Let me go," you growled, "Ralph! Stop it!" 

Travis called out to you two and you tried to wipe that innate look of fear from your face. Ralph seemed to snap out of it a bit when he realized you weren't alone and he finally released your arm. It didn't stop him from bending over you until his nose brushed yours and in a growl commanded you to go upstairs. 

Now is not the time to cry. Crying right now feels like weakness. You're not sad– you're fucking furious with him right now. But you're not about to make a bigger scene in front of this cop, so you push past him and head for the stairs. 

The blood racing in your veins is making your face hot and head pound. You can hear Ralph follow you up shortly, likely to continue the argument further but you are beyond listening at this point. You turn just in time to see him look at you funny– why are you mad?-- before slamming the door so hard you hear the wood around the lock almost splinter. 

He doesn't try the door. The light of the hallway goes out and you listen to him sigh as he heads for the couch to sleep on. You throw yourself onto your bed alone and cry into your pillow until exhaustion takes you to a dreamless black sleep.

Tag list: @werwulfy @fundamentally-lazy @escape-your-grape @go-commander-kim @mimiscappinisideblog

[lousimusician]

Breaking Up -- Part 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Tony had Peter break up with you, and the aftermath was weighing on Tony's conscious, allowing secrets to surface

----

Days had turned into weeks and weeks turned into a month and a month turned into two. It wasn't until then that Tony Stark realized he had screwed up.

Tony never would have thought in a million years that two kids so young could be so invested into one relationship. Tony never was so he believed teenagers feelings could never run so deep.

But now that he realized how bad the situation had gotten, he knew he had to do something. 

The state the two of you were left in couldn't be worse.

Peter Parker, the boy who basically lived to please Mr. Stark, was so heartbroken and guilt ridden, he wasn't fighting crime like he used to. Now, he was getting hurt more often, some of the wounds being quite serious. It forced Tony to take his suit away for the second time, saying he could have it back when he felt better. Another shocking thing that happened, was that Peter stopped talking as much, which worried everyone around him. The kid that never knew when to shut up, barely spoke 20 words in a day now.

You on the other hand, scared Tony the most, and not just because you were his daughter. No, you had decided to act out in ways that Tony wasn't ready for. You had decided to sneak out of your room almost every night. He had no idea what you did but he knew it wasn't good, the pounding headaches you had in the morning to the poorly concealed hickeys on your neck all made his father alarm go off. It wasn't until he caught you making out with some boy in your bedroom when he placed you under home arrest. Another thing that upset him was the newfound anger and hatred you placed towards Peter all while he was suffering in silence. And everytime you tried talking about it to your dad, he had found some way of defending Peter because of how guilty he felt. The more he tried to protect Peter the more you acted out and it became an endless cycle.

Tony knew he had to fix it and he had to fix it now. But the way that the news came out wasn't how he intended it.

Tony was holding a meeting with the Avengers, one that Peter had to go to even though his suit was taken away. Peter had been visibly anxious and hadn't said a thing in the meeting all night. He sat close to the door, ready to leave once it was over.

And then the worst possible thing that could have happened at that moment happened.

You had walked into the room, neck and chest littered in hickeys. "Dad have you seen my ear buds." You asked not looking up from your phone.

Tony stopped talking to the Avengers and everyone's attention fell on you. Tony narrowed his eyes, "I thought I put you under house arrest, young lady."

You scoffed and looked up at him, not taking note as to who else was in the room, "Just cause I can't go out, doesn't mean I can't sneak boys in." You said rolling your eyes.

Steve cleared his throat, "(Y/N) you shouldn't talk back to your father."

Tony pointed his finger at Steve, "I don't need your help parenting my daughter." Steve raised his hands in surrender, and Tony pointed at you now, "And you-"

Tony was caught off by a loud sob. Everyone in the room looked over to find Peter in tears. Your eyes flew to Peter, seeing him on the couch next to you.

Your eyes widened before your gaze hardened, and you looked at your dad, "What the fuck is he doing here." You seethed.

"Watch your language. He's in a meeting right now, okay? I know you aren't happy with him but you need to understand that he's an Avenger." 

You scoffed again, "I told you I never wanted to see him again and you didn't even have the decency to tell me he was coming over!" 

Tony raised his eyebrows, "Decency? You want to talk to me about decency? Because I don't think it's very decent of you to walk around covered in hickeys after I told you not to see any more boys and now you made Peter cry." 

Everyone watched in horror, except for Peter, who was crying in his hands.

"So? Who cares if he cries. He should be crying. I don't remember you caring that much after he broke up with me. Speaking of which, you've been on his side ever since it ended between us! Stop defending him, he broke my heart! " You yelled angrily.

"Fine! You wanna know why I keep defending him? It's because I'm the one who told Peter to break up with you!" Tony yelled without thinking

Silence washed over the room, followed by a low whistle from Sam.

You tried to process what was happening. "..Wait, w-what?"

"Shit." Tony muttered, "Listen, I-"

"You told Peter to break up with me?" You asked, trying to process the information. You looked back at Peter, who had been wide eyed. "Is- is this true?"

"I-I-I- uh.... y-yeah."

You felt like you were about to cry, overcome by an array of emotions. You were strong, you were a Stark afterall. But Peter seemed to be the only person that could bring you to tears. You looked back at your dad, "W-why?"

Tony glanced at all of the Avengers disapproving looks and cleared his throat, "Maybe we should go someplace else."

"No, just tell me why you did it."

He sighed. "Because it was dangerous."

"...So, the most reasonable idea for you was to have Peter break up with me and break my heart?" You asked slowly. "Do you understand what I've been going through these past two months? I convinced myself that I hated Peter, when in reality this is all your fault."

Tony was becoming impatient, "(Y/N), you don't understand. You can't be Iron Man's daughter and Spider-Man's girlfriend. It's too dangerous for you."

"Then I wish you weren't my dad." You said coldly.

Tony stood speechless, as you left the room leaving to cry somewhere else.

The room was completely silent, and no one dared to say a word.

"I-" Tony started, "Peter find her and fix your relationship, I...I need to be alone right now."

Tony left the room without another word, leaving the rest of the Avengers alone. Peter sat there in shock at what had just happened.

"What are you waiting for kid?" Bucky asked.

"Oh, um right." He swallowed before getting up to go find you.

Peter felt overwhelmed. So much had been happening these past two months and everything had just blown up. When he saw you walk into the room covered in hickies he just broke down. It wasn't like he hadn't known what you had been up to, it was all over the news, how Tony Stark's daughter had been spotted at parties with various guys. But seeing you in person for the first time like that hurt him.

He was scared. You, Peter, and Tony, were all in pain right now and Peter wasn't sure if he could fix it.

He reached your bedroom door and knocked on it, "I-it's Peter."

A second later the door opened, revealing your tear stained cheeks. You sniffled, "H-hi." 

"Can- can I come in?" 

You nodded and stepped to the side. You closed the door behind Peter, and turned around to face him.

"S-so there's no other girl?"

"Of course not, I love you so much, I could never leave you for someone else." 

You felt a wave of new tears rush down your cheeks. You pulled Peter into you, and clung onto him. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair as he cried with you.

"I've missed you so much princess." 

"M-me too.... It's been so hard without you, please never listen to my dad again."

"I know, I'm sorry. I promise I'll never leave you again." He said, pulling back to look at you. His gaze fell down to your neck and chest, seeing the hickies again.

You knew what he was looking at, and a guilty look crossed your face. "I- I've done some stuff that I'm not proud of."

"Did you s-sleep with any of them." Peter asked holding his breath.

"No." Peter felt relief. "It never got that far."

Peter nodded. "I'm not mad about it, y-you were in a lot of pain. So don't blame yourself." He said, knowing that it was something you'd end up feeling guilty about.

You nodded and stared up at Peter, and then pulled him down into a much needed kiss. The kiss was needy and filled with so many emotions. He tasted just like you remembered, sweet and something you could only describe as Peter.

You pulled back breathless and he rested his forehead against yours, "You should talk to your dad. He may have made a stupid decision, but he really loves you."

You closed your eyes, "I know. I'm just still so mad at him, and I just want to spend some more time with you. I promise I'll talk to him tonight." 

"Okay." He whispered, before kissing you again.

~

Soon after the explosive night, things returned to normal. You and your father came to an understanding, both apologizing to each other. The hickies finally faded.... well except for the new ones Peter gave you. Peter got his suit back and you started behaving again.

Tony regretted ever breaking the two of you up, because while it was still dangerous, he had to admit that seeing you two were perfect for each other, and he'd much rather see his daughter happy than worrying about what if's.

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