#ben......... i think ben could definitely figure it out. his powers have never exactly been expanded on

[lyctorism]

still always absolutely obsessed with the theory that, yes, “canonically” reginald named them by number in the order that they were obtained but ALSO. he named them in the reverse order of highest likelihood to cause the apocalypse. like on a scale from 1 to 7, how likely are you, child of mine, to cause the apocalypse? how INTENTIONAL it was? is up for debate but it is oh so highly coincidental i can’t help but think about it

[gladerscake]

No One Better

(Gally x Reader)

Hope you have some time, because this one’s large and in charge (of the feels, that is). Huge thanks to all the lovely people who encourage me to keep writing. Enjoy!

A few beads of sweat rolled down your temple, your bottom lip beginning to sting from how hard you were biting down on it, your brows furrowed in intense concentration, all while you were struggling to finally saw through this one stupid chunk of wood. It was a particularly thick one - you’ve been at it for almost ten minutes, with frustratingly minimal results. The muscles of your right arm were positively aching, pleading for you to drop the shucking saw and just ask somebody for help.

However, your resolve was stronger than your protesting muscles. You could do this. You didn’t need help.

You gave yourself a minute to rest before drawing in a deep, determined breath, and getting right back to it. You couldn’t believe it - will all this effort, you’d only managed to saw through half of it, thus far. Gally always made it look so easy...

“Having a bit of trouble there, baby?”

Your mouth immediately curled in a little grin at the deep sound of his voice. Gally’s voice. As if on cue, just when you were beginning to think about him.

The Keeper of the Builders, who you now proudly called your boyfriend, seemed to have a sixth sense for those things. To anything that had to do with you, really.

It’s been a bit over a week, since you two had made the fateful transition from close friends to something much, much more thrilling. And even though it hasn’t been that long since the change of your relationship’s nature, you could say, without question or a shadow of a doubt, that you’ve never felt happier.

The way Gally treated you on the daily, with such gentleness, care, and endless affection, made your heart bloom with delight at his mere presence. You couldn’t say you had been shocked by his manner - he’s always been kind to you, since the moment you two have met. But seeing this side of him, the loving and warm side, the one nobody else but you got to see, was a gift in itself. You believed you were immensely lucky that Gally returned your feelings and wanted you by his side, and you couldn’t wish for someone better. To you, there was no one better - simple as that.

As of this moment, you chose to bite back a cheeky remark in response to Gally’s slightly teasing question. Instead, you straightened out your posture, allowing your grin to grow as you loosened your death-grip on the saw handle and turned to face him.

“Me? Not at all! What gave you that impression?” You chirped as Gally chuckled, deeply, taking a big step closer to you. His striking bluish-green eyes peered down at your delicate features, an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth. God, you could never get used to how attractive he was to you...

“You’re kidding, right? I could hear your grunts all the way from the Deadheads.” He glanced at the saw in your hand, trailing his gaze to the chunk of wood and your underwhelming progress, and swiftly figured out what was causing his girl such distress.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment “Well, not everyone is a big hunk of muscle like you, my Keeper.”

Gally tried to control the blush he instantly knew was about to paint his cheeks. ‘My Keeper’. You’ve been calling him that often since you two became a couple, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely love it. It almost always distracted him from whatever he was doing or talking about, but he didn’t mind. He definitely didn’t want you to stop.

Nonetheless, he kept his composure and cleared his throat, grinning down at you “You flatter me, baby. But you’re not wrong.”

You released a light-hearted laugh as he quickly scooted behind you. “Here, let me help.”

You felt a familiar warmth spreading through your body and circling your abdomen as Gally reached around you, his powerful torso nearly pressing against your back, his calloused hand enclosing around your smaller fingers on the handle, in order to guide your movements. Your pulse was already beginning to quicken, your face gradually getting hotter, as you struggled to ignore the effect his closeness was having on you.

“T-Thanks...”

Gally pressed a sweet peck to your cheek as he tightened his grip “Mm-hm. Now, shoulder up...” He instructed, softly, his breath slightly tickling your ear. You did as told. “Yep, just like that. Now lock your elbow. Your arm’s a little wobbly - that’s why it’s taking so much out of you.” Again, you did as he said, doing your earnest to focus on the task at hand, and not on your boyfriend’s low, breathy voice in your ear, or the heat of his strong body, or the way his arms felt around you...

“Like that?” You inquired, timidly, glancing up at his freckled face.

“Exactly. Now, drag it back and forth, and don’t squeeze the handle too hard - you’re just wasting energy that way.”

You took a deep breath and proceeded sawing through the wood, with Gally’s help, as he kept a firm grip on your hand. To your surprise and relief, it really did feel a lot easier, now that you were no longer straining your muscles in all the wrong ways, and in a matter of minutes, the sawed-off piece fell to the ground with a soundly “thump”.

You let out a victorious laugh, causing Gally to chuckle at your reaction. He thought it was entirely too cute.

“Finally! I did it!” You beamed at your boyfriend as he pried the handle out of your hand, placing the saw on the work table before interlacing his fingers with your own.

“You sure did. Next time, if you’re struggling with something, just come get me, okay? There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.” He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, blissfully, giving him a short nod of agreement. “Fine, fine, if you insist...” You mumbled, the urge to kiss him coating your senses and pulling you closer into him. You didn’t fight it. Standing up on your tippy-toes, your linked your arms around his neck and leaned in, pressing your soft lips against his, your ears basking in Gally’s deep hum of satisfaction. His hands wasted no time gripping your waist as he kissed you deeper, his lips moving so seamlessly and tantalizingly against your own, your mind beginning to swim at the sensation.

Despite not wanting to break the kiss, the distant sounds of other gladers working and chattering forced you to stay aware of your surroundings as you reluctantly pulled away from Gally’s lips with a sweet final peck. The builder grinned, giving your waist a languid squeeze before delivering you a wink that almost made your knees buckle.

“As much as it kills me, I gotta get back to work, baby.” He feigned a sneer as you chuckled, nodding in compliance and unwinding your arms from around his neck. You stepped back, already missing his closeness and warmth.

“Same here. Meet you at dinner?”

“You’d better!” Gally smiled, genuinely, before turning on his heels and departing to his task of fixing the Med Hut’s leaky roof.

-later that day-

“Alright, boys, let’s wrap this up. We’ll get back to it first thing tomorrow.” Gally clapped a couple of his builders on their backs - his way of letting them know they had done a good job without actually having to say it. He wasn’t big on dishing out praise and compliments, unless it came to you.

“Whatever you say, boss!” Scott, one of his most capable builders, quipped as he climbed down from the roof, fist-bumping a couple of his friends while they stretched their sore muscles.

Gally huffed to himself before going to pick up his instruments, his tall form disappearing from the guys’ line of vision.

As soon as the Keeper appeared to be gone, Scott’s expression promptly melted from cool to sour, a hint of spite flashing through his eyes.

“Looks like someone’s in a hurry to get back to his girlfriend.” He deliberately over enunciated the last word, frowning, as if just the thought of it was too ridiculous to occur.

Another builder, Jack, cocked a questioning brow at his friend “Oh? Jealous much?”

Scott rolled his eyes in response “I just don’t get it! How did that even happen? Why him? She had like forty shanks to choose from, and she went for him?”

Jack had to snicker at the guy’s plain and obvious jealousy, the sight of it being thoroughly entertaining. “Hey, easy, man! Clearly she sees something we can’t. She’s made her choice - deal with it.”

“Yeah, but did she have to pick the ugliest one? I mean, honestly, if it were someone like Minho, or Ben, or hell, even Newt, I’d sort of get it, but...”

Gally scoffed, bitterly, rejecting the idea of listening to the rest of that lovely conversation. Did they really think he couldn’t hear them? He’s only been a few feet away this whole time, for shuck’s sake. His features darkened, his hands clenching into fists. He knew it was stupid to let something like that get to him - obviously it was nothing more than jealous ramblings of some dumb shank, who would most likely wet himself if he knew Gally had heard him.

Still, as much as he despised to admit it... It stung, hearing that. Mostly because, deep down, some obnoxiously self-deprecating part of him, agreed with Scott’s words.

Gally had never really given much thought to his looks. That is, until you came along. As his feelings for you grew, so did his insecurity. He knew he wasn’t conventionally “hot”. True, he was one of the tallest guys in the glade, and he assumed he had a nice body, thanks to his job as a builder, so he at least had that going for him. His face, however... Gally didn’t believe it was anything to be considered “handsome”. As opposed to you, who he thought was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

He hated this, hated feeling like he didn’t deserve you, hated knowing that you could probably do so much better than him, especially when you weren’t there to reassure him, to tell him otherwise and kiss away his every troubled thought.

Gally growled, internally, his jaw tensing and his knuckles turning white. No, he needed to snap out of it. What the hell? You wanted him. You chose him, you were with him, you were his. He couldn’t let his faith in your devotion to him crumble, just because some dumbass had opened his big resentful mouth.

With an exasperated grunt, Gally stalked off to meet you for dinner, as promised. He was sure that as soon he saw your face, he would forget all about what had just happened. He hoped gazing into your glimmering eyes would be enough to hush every last unwelcome thought. Yet, as hopeful as he was for that, the tension in his broad shoulders remained, as if something heavy was weighing down on him, with very little he could do about it.

-later-

Something deep within you was telling you something wasn’t right. You felt a nagging sting of worry pinching at your heart as you made your way back to Gally’s hut, that you and him now shared.

You couldn’t help but sense that Gally had seemed a bit... off, all throughout dinner. The soft smiles he’d sent your way didn’t reach his eyes. His usually bright bluish-green eyes had been tinged with an underlying bleakness, and you had no clue where it was coming from. You’d tried to ask him about it, but the only response you got was a mumbled “It’s nothing” and a hurried kiss on your cheek.

You didn’t like it. You knew Gally so well by now - you could tell when something was bothering him. You cared about him, deeply, and so, seeing him so obviously anxious about something and not telling you what it was, put you in a bothered state as well.

Whatever it was, you needed to get it out of him. Gally was your boyfriend, and a pretty amazing one at that. If there was anything at all that you could do to help him deal with what was plaguing mind, you would do it, over and over again, if you had to.

You pushed the door open and entered the hut, a loving smile curling your lips as your eyes fell upon Gally. The builder was sitting on the bed, busily scribbling something in his journal, his knit brows and slightly clenched jaw painting his face with a look of pure concentration. Probably sketching in some alterations for the Med Hut expansion. You released a muted giggle, thinking his expression was entirely cute.

Gally immediately looked up at the sound that escaped you, his smile reflecting your own, his deeply focused gaze softening the second it landed on you “Almost bed time, huh?”

“Yes, indeed.” You delivered a little grin as you shut the door behind you and approached him, your delicate hands landing on his shoulders with a pleasant squeeze “And you’re still not done working?” You eyed the journal in Gally’s hands.

He responded with a scratchy chuckle “Perks of being a keeper, baby - I’m never done.” He feigned a deep sigh that made you giggle once more, but nonetheless, placed the journal aside, wanting to give you his full attention.

The only instances where you two got to be truly alone with one another were early in the morning and right before bed, so Gally cherished these moments with you. He would spend every second of every day alone with you if he could, but for the time being, he’d take what ever little scraps of time he could get.

“Well, I’m here now, so... Maybe you’re done, after all?” You smiled, your hands kneading his shoulders in a relaxing manner, feeling his firm muscles slowly release built-up tension under your touch.

Gally grunted, deep in his throat, as his own hands took a hold of your waist, pulling you closer in a not-so subtle motion.

“I sure as hell am, now...” The deep, slightly raspy tone of his voice made you weak in ways you hadn’t imagined before, but you were far from complaining.

With a playful smirk, Gally suddenly fell back on the bed, and you yelped in surprise as with one simple, yet effective tug, he brought you down with, causing you to topple onto him.

“Gally!” You attempted to scold, lightly slapping his chest, but the laughter bubbling from within you, as well as the rising pink hue to your cheeks, let him know how you truly felt about it.

“Aww! Sorry, is this too much?” He asked, almost rhetorically, a cheeky glint dancing in his eyes.

The blush adorning your cheeks only grew as you gazed down at him in pure fascination. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe Gally was yours, that you got to see the side of him everyone else was blind to. You shook your head, leaning down to plant an amorous kiss on his plump lips, as he took no time melting into it with a low-pitched hum. His large hands, warm and eager, gripped your waist tighter as he shifted you both up the bed, until the back of his head almost knocked against the makeshift wooden frame. You whimpered, softly, against his mouth before breaking the kiss. You witnessed, with a tinge on satisfaction, that his freckle-littered cheeks were now even redder than your own, his breath escaping through his parted lips as he stared at you like you were something out of this world.

Gally felt like he could never get enough of you. Your closeness had his heart nearly beating out of his chest, and the intoxicating sensation of your lips on his sent him reeling with more need than he knew what to do with. However, as he gazed at you, taking in every detail of your breathtaking features, his mind involuntarily called back to his inner turmoil, a couple hours prior. The spark in his eyes dulled, the corner of his lips twitching with a barely-noticeable frown as he was pulled back into that loathsome state of self-doubt he’d tried so hard to fight against.

The rapid change in his expression, as minimal as it was, did not evade your notice. In a blink of an eye, your dream-like state morphed to concern as you reached up a hand to cup his warm cheek “Hey... Gally, what’s wrong?”

He huffed a light puff of air, tilting his head to nuzzle his face into your cupped hand, the small gesture nearly making you swoon.

“It’s nothing. Stupid. Don’t worry about it, baby.” Gally mumbled, the response identical to the one you’d received at dinner.

Well, that wasn’t going to be good enough this time. You frowned in sympathy “Yeah, that’s what you said earlier, too. I didn’t believe it then, and I don’t believe it now.”

Gally relinquished a hushed groan, evidently reluctant to share what was on his mind, but all you wanted was for him to know that there was nothing in the world he couldn’t talk to you about. You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the exasperated crease on his forehead, momentarily feeling it smoothen out under your lips.

“Come on... please? I can’t go to sleep if I know something’s bothering you.”

Gally sighed, deeply, his intent gaze meeting your own, and once again you were met with the somber pool of dejection that you had been so quick to spot.

To say he was hesitant to discuss it would be an understatement, but the plea in your gaze and soft voice was impossible for him to ignore. There probably wasn’t a single thing you couldn’t get out of him.

With a defeated grunt, Gally reached a hand up to carefully thread his calloused fingers through your silky hair, his voice dipping an octave lower as he finally spoke “Sometimes it just doesn’t feel like I’m good enough for you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched at the mere sound of those words leaving his mouth. You felt a ferocious urge to stop him right then and there, yet... you didn’t. No, you couldn’t interrupt. You asked for this, for his honesty, so now he was giving you exactly that. You had to let him finish.

“I mean... You could’ve had anyone. Absolutely shuckin’ anyone, but for a reason I still don’t fully understand, you’ve picked me.” Gally bit the inside of his cheek, his rough fingertips turning cold as he let the words fall from his mouth. “I know what people are thinking. ‘What the hell is an amazing, sweet, funny, beautiful girl like you, doing with one of the ugliest shanks here?’. And you know what? I hate it, but they’re not wrong.”

Every sentence shot an icy pain through your heart as you had to bite your bottom lip to physically restrain yourself from shutting him up. You couldn’t stand that Gally was so critical of himself, especially when you saw him as the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“And please don’t take this the wrong way - I’m not doubting your... feelings for me, and I’m so lucky that they’re even there, it’s just...” He trailed off, briefly, wanting to choose his next words carefully. “It’s a bit of a struggle to understand. Because you deserve the best, and I’m... well, hardly that.”

A short pause. Finally, it sounded like he was finished, and now it was your time to let him know precisely how you felt about all of it.

With a preparatory intake of air, you cupped his face in both hands, making him look nowhere else but at you, your eyes shining with determined empathy. “Gally... I chose you, because it’s always been you. Forty shanks here, and not one of them ever made me feel even a fraction of what you make me feel. I can’t explain why, because it’s not something that has an explanation - I don’t have an alphabetised list of reasons why I fell for you! I just... did. Because of who you are - that’s everything about you. And I don’t know who you’re calling ‘ugly’, because it sure as hell isn’t my boyfriend.” You paused, watching his eyes as he stared at you, mesmerized, without blinking, his mouth falling slightly agape as you could practically hear his heartbeat drumming in his chest. “So... Yeah, I can confidently say, without question, that I’m pretty happy with what I chose.”

After a few seconds of wired silence, Gally finally broke out of his entranced stupor, his voice nearly quivering as he traced a finger down the soft curve of your jaw.

“And what is it, that you chose?”

His touch made the loving warmth within you spread like wildfire, soothing your throbbing heart and coaxing a delicate grin to etch your lips “The best.”

At that, Gally released a short, incredulous huff, but couldn’t find it in himself to question it any further. You were truly a gift to him, a gift he had no idea what he’d done to deserve. In that moment, all the worries he’d had were effectively silenced, pushed away into the farthest, deepest crevices of his mind, not to be heard from again in a long time, if ever. Not a minute more would be wasted caring about anyone else’s opinion on your relationship with him. The only one that mattered was yours, and that’s the one he would hold into, for as long as you’d allow it. For as long as you’d want him.

Gally’s muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into him, tightly and protectively, as he buried his face in your hair, trying to get you as close as humanly possible, and still feeling like it wasn’t enough.

You responded by nuzzling into the warm crook of his neck, your lips pressing the gentlest of kisses to his sun-kissed skin, the heat of his strong chest soaking into you and shrouding you in an impenetrable sense of comfort and love. His love. The type nothing else could compare to or dare to challenge.

“You know, the day you change your mind will definitely be the most devastating of my life...” Gally whispered, almost inaudibly, the consuming safety of his embrace clouding your senses.

All you could do was breathe a soft chuckle, holding onto him tighter as your lips murmured against his neck “I guess it’s a good thing that day isn’t coming.”

Because in your mind, with all the uncertainties and uneasiness that surrounded the glade, that was the one thing you didn’t have a single doubt about. It was him. Gally. And there was no one better.

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @seldomabsent @obsessivelycapricious @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @lattsgocaps @magnoliabloomfield @sherbertscarrothead-2 @the-marvel-meme-emporium @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

[trippin-over-my-fandoms]

How's your day been our wonderful cult leader. I must say your newest fic is amazing and I hope I'm not being a pain by asking for some steamy spacegravity headcanons if that's ok with you

Aw thank you so much! That’s probably a tad more than i deserve since I was just looking at it to show my sister and caught two very bad mistakes. Ben who i only know Be. Anyway!

I do actually have in mind a steamy fic I want to write as well as slot a scene into the 60s au and just do a separate one. I dunno yet. I’m always super confident thinking about writing smut but getting into actually writing it I’m like “oh my gosh why did I think I could do this” (spoiler alert- I take everything I do, including smut, too seriously) so stay tuned! A true fic will happen! For now? Headcanons!!!

18+ content ahead!

Their first time would be literally so clumsy and awkward. Which would be the Higher Love scene since it’s very obvious in episode 3 they hooked up after that adorable kiss.

Let me explain-

Luther has never had a real relationship and he’s canonically stated he’s never had friends and never left the house. And it is canon that the rave girl was his first time. He was drunk and all sorts of stuff when that happened so it’s like- how much does he remember? How much of that did the lady take the lead on? Ya know?

I mean, he’s definitely seen porn but probably not a lot of it. He gets how sex works in theory but actually doing it is a lot different but he’s got 30 years of being touch and loved starved to push him through.

Sloane is in the same boat I think. She’s never left the house either and is as bond to the Sparrows as Luther was to the Umbrellas.

He may not be a thirty year old virgin but she definitely is (well… 29)

But she’s not wholly innocent. Something tells me this girl is a reader. Film and literature are the way to go for escapism (speaking as a professional lol) so she’s definitely read some books with sex scenes and she’s definitely read books who’s whole thing is sex. Even if they’re trashy she’s probably read some and she’d die if any of her siblings ever found out.

So their first time would be figuring the specifics out but they get it pretty quick. Quick enough to do it on the ceiling.

Now obviously they have sex in her bed too since Fei mentions Sloane’s bed squeaks.

But that scene- the LOOK Fei gives Luther after she says “kept me up all night” drives me fucking insane like they are doing SOMETHING

He’s gotta be pretty impressive or something. Like these two hook up a lot.

His dirty talk could be pretty good.

Nah- headcanon it is good. Like, he may be clumsy pretty normally but Luther’s sexy talk is out of this world (pun intended). He somehow knows exactly what to say and how to say it- like a low and sensual voice. You’d never believe he was the same guy.

I’m also on team “Luther has a big dick” and I think once he gets the hang of things he knows how to use it. Also? Hot take/headcanon part of Luther’s super power is endurance/stamina 👀

Luther may not have gotten adventurous with his porn search history but Sloane has read some wild books so this girl has a check list of things she wants to try. It was definitely her idea to do it on the ceiling. Between her powers and her imagination-

They may not be super kinky but I think they definitely have some kinkier moments. They may not go full 50 Shades (a book Sloane def read) but what couple doesn’t want to try being tied up?

Though- it probably becomes a game. Starting with Sloane being the one tied up and having to use her sparrow skills to get out of it before she finishes and if she can do that she edges/teases him for a bit or something.

Luther can’t play that game. It would have to be some super thick rope or something because he can just super strength his way out.

This has been sitting in my drafts too long I’m gonna go ahead and post it rip

[milstrim]

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 1: Hand in My Pocket

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter's not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he'd always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn't want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

—-

The red glare of the setting sun set the City That Never Sleeps in a persistent glow as the last of the golden rays disappeared behind the pillars of the city, outlining every shadow. There was the silhouette of buildings, of cars racing along the road, of people stalking down the street in the usual New York bustle, and there was the shadow of Spider-Man as he swung overhead. Not that it was really his shadow.

Where there should have been a perfect replica of the boy clinging to a web as he dipped low (one that outlined his lumpy goggles and rumpled suit) there was instead the poofiness of fluffed up hair and sharp slacks. The movements of the shadow replicated the boy, like they were supposed to, but nothing else indicated that this shadow belonged to the vigilante swinging through the street.

And Peter liked it that way.

Observing the difference between people's shadow had always been a game to the boy, to watch a thin woman walk around while a curvy figure followed her, or too see a little boy being tracked by the silhouette of a tutu and puffy hair. Until very recently, the teenager had loved to stare at his Aunt and Uncle's shadows whenever he could, always fascinated by the way they reflected each other with a broad smile on his face.

Now, though, neither of them had shadows, and Peter didn't smile as often. He didn't feel like there was much reason to. It had been his fault, after all. His fault they'd never get to see flashes of each other when their shadows disappeared in the dark, his fault they'd never walk under the sun with their shadows in line with the other. It was his fault they'd bled out in an alley so dark their shadows hadn't even been there to comfort them as they left.

Spider-Man rattled an anxious, forced breath through his tight lungs as he propelled himself upwards on his webs. He instinctively looked for the taped together watch he kept on his webshooter to catch the time, though he knew he had plenty. Still, after his last time missing curfew at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, he wasn't anxious to repeat the experience. And he did have to swing across the bridge to make his way back to Queens since he'd branched out to Manhattan for the night.

The cracked watch read that it was barely seven, though, so Peter still had a few hours before he had to be back. Mr. Fowler didn't care much what they did as long as they were back before ten, unless it was one of his "days," which really just meant he was as drunk as a skunk and completely willing to smack a few boys upside their head and be unreasonably dickish about the rules. But other than that, Peter was usually left to his own devices to patrol around the streets of his city and try everything in his power to make up for what had happened barely six months ago.

But it would never be enough.

Peter stopped on top of a billboard that clung to the side of a building, landing clumsily and only barely managing to slip his fingers around the poster for a new movie. His world swam--just a little bit--as he regained his bearings. He shook his head at the dizziness that had become a constant ever since moving to live at the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, but it wasn't like it was their fault. All the boys were reasonably well-cared for, with regular mealtimes, a generous curfew, and easy access to schools, but they weren't really equipped to deal with Peter.

The teenager held back a sigh as his stomach grumbled painfully. He'd eaten the last of his stash of granola bars that he'd bought after a tourist he'd helped had forced a few bills on him. He didn't like taking money, but he couldn't deny that those bars had helped for the two weeks that he'd made them stretch.

Forcing down a hungry grumble of annoyance, Peter turned to survey his shadow instead, the one that had always been the same. Ever since he could remember. Even when he'd been in kindergarten, there'd been the tall and protective shadow of his soulmate behind him. Despite everything, and despite how selfish it felt, it was comforting to look down and see that familiar crop of hair. He reached a hand up to touch his head, never quite used to the way his fingers brushed up against cloth but the shadow underneath him swept through fluffed up tufts.

His soulmate's hair today was messy, not as poofed up as it usually was. Today must be a casual day for him or something, which weren't very often, but when they did occur they often lasted for days. Other days he could make out the outline of glasses and the sharp angles of clothing that made him think of a business suit, though he couldn't be sure. They were only a shadow after all. Peter wondered what his soulmate thought about his own shadow, if he'd noticed anything odd, but, then again, Peter's shadow probably just looked like he was wearing a hoodie all the time, and maybe what could pass as some pretty obnoxious glasses. He'd used to have those anyway.

Peter tilted his head, enjoying the way the hair on the sidewalk underneath him flopped with him. For some reason, Peter found it very amusing when one had hair showing and the other didn't. It just looked a little ridiculous. Recently, it had been the teenager who had been donning the hoodie over his head, but Peter assumed that his soulmate was usually wearing something too. More often than not, he'd look down to see the hair gone, covered by a sharp outline that really had him questioning his soulmate's fashion sense.

The thought brought a snicker to his lips. He nestled more comfortably atop the billboard. There hadn't been any good action in a while anyway.

"Where do you think we should go next?" he asked aloud, and he didn't know if he was asking himself or the shadow of his soulmate underneath. He didn't know why, but he'd always felt like they'd give really good advice. "There hasn't really been much going on, and I haven't seen any of those alien-weapon guys since the knock-off Avengers robbed that bank. Maybe we could try and find out whoever you are again. That'd be kind of fun."

'Kind of fun.' Yeah, right. It was the only thing Peter looked forward to anymore.

Before, he'd always been excited to graduate, to go through college and apply to Stark Industries, his Aunt and Uncle's smiles egging him on the entire way. He'd looked forward to band and robotics and, while he'd stayed, decathlon too. It wasn't as fun as it had been before, but Ned was still there. Liz too. They were nice, and it was good to see their smiles and hear their occasional pitying encouragement that usually only pissed him off (not that he'd ever let them know, they were just trying to help after all), but they weren't what Peter was looking for.

Then again, Peter wasn't 100% he knew what he was looking for either.

He was pretty sure his soulmate was something to look forward to. Ben and May had always described what it felt like to find your soulmate, to be able to stare at shadows your entire life until you found who you were looking for. You would touch their hand and your shadows would switch, and when you let go, the shadow remained to your universe approved bond again. The satisfaction of finally piecing together the flashes you got whenever both shadows disappeared into the darkness. It was something Aunt May and Uncle Ben had always enticed him about, always encouraged.

Maybe if he could find his soulmate, everything would be better. Everything would be perfect, like May and Ben had always proclaimed.

But that was childish, and Peter knew it. Soulmates didn't fix everything, and meeting his soulmate certainly wouldn't improve his situation. They were a regular person with a regular life. He was a second-rate vigilante that had been orphaned twice. Besides, nothing could really help Peter. Not that he needed help. He just needed to grow out of the system so he could make something that actually felt like life rather than the scraping by that it had become.

By the time Peter moved from his spot, it was because his shadow had dimmed with the entrance of New York darkness. He stood up, barely able to make out the faintness of his soulmate, and flicked his wrist out. He still had a little bit before he had to be back at the group home, so he reckoned he'd be fine. He'd be back in time that Mr. Fowler wouldn't give him another strike and he could still eat dinner. He'd do his homework, go to bed, and the next day would be the same horrible numbness of before.

"Any ideas on where the best crime is, Matey?" he asked his shadow, "Maybe superpowers can leech over to soulmates. That'd be really cool actually. Soulologists haven't been able to prove anything other than memory flashes. We could break that entire field of study if that were true."

His soulmate, of course, didn't answer. But the scuffle of a fight and a warped sound unlike anything the teenager had ever heard, did.

 ---

 Tony glanced around his emptying lab, a tired glint in his eyes as he did. Large portions of the tower had been emptied and organized into large crates as they anticipated the move from the tower to the compound. Most of his lab had stayed the same throughout the process, as staff weren't allowed up here, leaving it mostly up to the billionaire himself to pack up his things. Glancing around at the piles of disheveled work and unfinished projects, he might have to get some help anyway. Or, if he started packing now, he'd have plenty of time to do it by himself.

He turned back to the suit he was working on.

The horribly challenging nanoparticles as part of his newest suit were barely coming together. It was incredibly difficult, which made it the most fun thing he'd worked on in a while, which also meant he'd been working on it for two days straight. It was a good thing Pepper was working in another country at the moment and wasn't there to make him go to bed or take a break or anything worthless like that. Then again, he guessed Pepper wasn't the only one with the power to do that.

"Sir," Friday started, "You are approaching your extent of working without a break. I suggest you go to sleep."

"I'm almost done, girl," he replied at the same moment the gauntlet he was working on sparked. He hissed in pain as he withdrew his newly burnt fingers, his vision swimming slightly. He blinked furiously to clear the dark spots from his sight. "Okay, maybe a break isn't such a bad idea."

"Great choice, sir."

"Don't patronize me," he scolded, grabbing a nearby jacket to throw over his stained shirt and a pair of sunglasses despite the late hour, "I'm taking a break, not going to sleep. Keep the lab running for me, I'm gonna go grab a coffee."

"Might I suggest a calming tea instead?"

"You most certainly may not."

Tony stepped into the brightly lit elevator, staring down at his shadow as he usually did when he was alone. The sight of the usual hoodie brought a smile to his face. His soulmate must have a hoodie addiction as strong as his coffee one, though he usually preferred whenever he could see the kid's curly hair before it was eventually tamed down by what he guessed was a godly amount of hair gel.

His soulmate had turned fifteen recently, he knew. August tenth was the first day he'd had a shadow, one of a tiny baby curled up at his feet. He remembered fondly what it had felt like to look down one random morning and see the dark blob at his feet, the confusion and the joy as he'd realized it moved with him. After thirty-one years, a soulmate of his very own.

He'd loved to watch them grow through their shadows, though his favorite was the little snippets he'd get of their life. Like for everyone else, they were very rare, especially in the bright cities he was accustomed to living in. There was always just a little bit of light somewhere in New York, but he remembered vividly the little snatches he'd managed to get from his soulmate's life when both of their shadows faded into a shade of the dark completely.

A deeply nerdy room with Star Wars posters. The bustling streets of a city. And, more recently, dark alleyways that had made him more than a little nervous. His soulmate was only a kid after all, but it was a bit hypocritical for him to be any kind of judgmental after his own teenage years, and it wasn't like he could do anything.

Other than what he was doing now.

The flashes of the streets he'd seen in his soulmate visions had reminded him deeply of New York (though they could just as easily have been from another city in the States), so Tony had made the effort to go out more whenever he could. Usually he couldn't stay for long, he was pretty busy after all. Still, local coffee shops and street vendors had become frequented by Tony Stark as he'd searched. He knew it was a little ridiculous to parade around the streets of New York City in the hopes that he would stumble upon his soulmate, but after everything that had happened with the team, he could at least try to throw in a little optimism.

The mechanic blinked out thoughts of the broken team as the elevator opened on the empty bottom floor, making his way through the darkly lit lobby and out the door into the streets. Street lamps were lit brightly, and, coupled by the headlight of cars and the alternating colors of traffic light, his soulmate was able to walk alongside Tony as he crossed the road and began down the sidewalk.

"Any recommendations for a good coffee shop, my little shadow?" Tony asked his soulmate. The people on the street paid him no mind, not that it was unusual for people to talk to their shadows. "If you do live around here, you must have at least a few recommendations. Well, I guess you are a kid, but I drank plenty of caffeine when I was your age, so."

He shrugged to himself, stopping at a street corner and pursing his lips as he thought. He'd really only explored Manhattan when looking for his soulmate, but walking across the bridge into Brooklyn and Queens would take much too long. He did want to get back to his project after all.

Tony made a turn, resolving to just find whatever new café he could. Maybe he'd explore Brooklyn or Harlem after the move. Or maybe Queens, he had been wanting to try and meet that Spider-Kid for a while anyway. He'd thought he'd had an opportunity when Rogers and his merry band had taken Barnes and left in Germany, but everything had gone by just too quick and he didn't even know the guy's identity. Not for lack of trying. The guy was pretty good at avoiding cameras, it almost made Tony jealous.

The billionaire walked for about fifteen minutes, passing by every coffee shop he'd already been to in search of a new one. There were plenty in Manhattan, but Tony had been to so many at this point it was a little ridiculous. He stopped, ready to pull out his phone and see where the nearest one he could find was, when he caught sight of a man out of the corner of his eye.

He frowned. How long had that man been following him? A few blocks at least, he recognized that green jacket from when he'd passed by Beany Business.

The light turned from an orange hand to a white silhouette, and Tony hurried across the street. He hadn't brought any kind of weapons with him, and he really wasn't in the mood to cause some kind of scene. If he was quick, he could probably lose this guy and still get to his coffee shop without some kind of annoying disturbance.

Tony allowed himself to be swept up in the crowd of late-goers, moving with them quickly. He let that crowd trickle by and joined another, and then joined one more of a drunk afterparty before finally slipping down an alleyway when he could no longer see the green jacket. He blinked in surprise as he caught sight of a coffee shop just across the street, bright red letters reading 'The Coffee Club.'

He smiled. Perfect.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he strolled down the alleyway towards the cheap looking café. And then a figure stepped in the entrance, blocking the view from across the street and slapping Tony's easygoing smile off of his face.

The billionaire immediately tensed as his eyes roamed over the green jacket, the covered face, and finally the gun pointed towards him. His eyebrow raised as his gaze rested on the weapon that wasn't really a gun. It was splayed out like a robotic arm, shiny and just a little bit clunky but clearly dangerous.

"Hands in the air, Stark," the man ordered. Slowly, he followed the man's orders. "Phone and glasses on the floor. Now."

"I'm gonna have to move my hands for that," Tony snarked. The man gave him a slight snarl.

"Just do it. Slowly. And throw them over here."

"Sure," he agreed, fishing his phone out of his pocket and taking his glasses off of his face before letting them clatter to the ground. The man kept the robotic gun trained on him as he grabbed the devices, placing them in a pocket in the thick of his jacket. Tony frowned. "So, what is this? A kidnapping? Taking my wallet? Genuinely interested."

"I've been watching you for a while, Stark," the man said, "You go out at night a lot. I knew it'd only be a matter of time before I could get what I want from you."

"And I would love to know what that is. As well as where you got that neat little arm-gun there. Is that Sokovian?"

"Shut up, Stark. I don't need your snark, just some information, and I'll take your wallet too."

"Mind leaving me enough cash for a coffee?"

The gun cocked. "What did I just say?"

"Hmm, I forgot."

"Very funny."

"Thanks, I thought so too," Tony joked. "Anyway, back on topic of what this is all about."

The gun whined and then quickly shot, whizzing past Tony to burn the wall just behind him. Tony turned his head to glance at the large ring of smoke before facing the man in the green jacket again.

"Shut up," he ordered again. "No more words from you unless they're the password into the DODC."

"There's more than just one password. You got a pen? This could take a while."

"No, you're coming with me."

"Oh, so this is a kidnapping."

"I can't have you changing the passwords and alerting anyone of this," the man answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but Tony could already count five thousand ways this could go wrong for Green Jacket Guy. One being that Tony wasn't up for being kidnapped at this moment in particular, and he definitely wasn't going to let this schmuck take him while he was just trying to get a decent coffee. "Keep your hands in the air and don't move, or else I'm hitting you with this."

When he gestured to the gun, Tony just gave him a bored look. "You know you're not getting any passwords or anything if you kill me, right?"

The man flicked a switch on the gun. "It's set to stun. It won't kill you, but it will definitely knock you out for a few hours."

"Good to know."

Green Jacket Guy approached, a pair of cuffs poised to slip around his outstretched hands. The man's steps were jauntily hesitant, but clear apprehension didn't stop the man from grabbing his hand and forcing the first cuff around him. He moved to click it around the billionaire's other wrist, but was met with a snapping punch to the face.

Green Jacket Guy stumbled back, a hand pressed against his newly bloody nose in a grunt of clear pain. Tony dove when the man quickly gathered himself and raised his gun, forcing himself behind a trash can as it whined and then fired. The trashcan forced itself against Tony, slapping the mechanic against the wall with a shouted groan, his shoulder barely breaking his fall. That was going to bruise in the morning.

Forced to his knees, Tony scrambled back up only to be faced with the robot-arm-gun pointed directly in his face. It charged up in its now annoyingly familiar warped whine, and there was nowhere to go. He was trapped and he was not excited to be blasted by this thing and if he got kidnapped again Happy was going to have a heart attack, he might as well--

"Hey! Watch where you're pointing that thing!" called a squeaky voice. Tony and Green Jacket Guy both turned as a red blur shot into the alleyway, a thwip! knocking the gun from the man's hand and the red blur knocking into him. The man was barreled to the ground with a pained groan before he was covered in a flurry of webs, the Spider Guy standing over him. "Pointing guns at people is illegal y'know! Sorry to be a party pooper, but I will be calling the police."

Tony blinked, forcing himself to his feet fully as the vigilante turned around, the lenses of his goofy goggles widening in comical shock.

"Oh, whoa."

 ---

 "Oh, whoa," Peter breathed as he caught sight of literally Tony-freaking-Stark dusting off his pants as he stood up. His eyes instinctively fluttered to the man's shadow, expecting the long hair and slim figure of Pepper Potts but catching sight of a short and rumpled man instead. Huh.

"Whoa yourself, kid," Mr. Stark responded, stepping over to where the man was knocked out cold and webbed to the ground. He dug through the man's exposed green jacket and pulled out a pair of glasses and a sleek phone, but Peter's eyes were locked onto the strange gun on the ground. His eyes narrowed at how similar it looked to the ones at the bank. "What're you doing out here? You're a Queens guy aren't you?"

"Oh, uh, yes-yes, sir. Usually, but I was just, uhh, I was just around and I heard the fight and, and yeah..."

Mr. Stark turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in suspicion as he glanced over Peter's ratty superhero suit. He shuffled on his feet nervously, trying desperately to keep himself still and untense his shoulders, not that it had much affect. The teenager choked down agitation, trying his best to not glance at his watch. It was getting late and, while Iron Man was his second favorite Avenger, the last thing he needed was Tony Stark finding out his secret identity.

"What's your name?" Mr. Stark asked.

"Spider-Man."

"And your real name?"

Peter paused. "Spider-Man. On my birth certificate and everything."

Mr. Stark frowned, and Peter thought he was going to demand a legitimate answer, when he shrugged and stepped away from the guy on the ground. "Fine. You helped me out, I won't bother you about it. For now."

Peter let out a low sigh, muttering, "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"I am going to bother you about other things though," Mr. Stark said, "I've been meaning to talk to you, and no time like the present."

"Oh, uhh, I kinda have to--"

Peter was interrupted by the painful rumble of his stomach. His face turned as red as his mask, and he was thankful the man couldn't see his embarrassment, not that that stopped the superhero's teasing smirk. With a wave, the man stepped out of the alleyway. "C'mon, let's go."

"Go--go where?"

"Coffee. I came to get a good black coffee and I refuse to leave without one."

Peter glanced down at the guy he'd webbed. "What about him?"

"My AI already called the police. They'll be here soon. Now, c'mon. I'm not gonna ask you twice."

"Yeah, yeah. Ah, okay, Mr. Stark."

 ---

 Peter shuffled his feet nervously, his arms crossed and constantly turning so that he could peer at the time on his watch. Twenty minutes. Not looking great, but it wasn't like Peter could really leave while Mr. Stark ordered his coffee. That would be rude, and plus it was Iron Man, so, overall a bad idea.

He glanced over from where he was leaning against the brick wall of the coffee shop to stare at the clear door. Like a final answer to his prayers, the billionaire stepped out, a drink carrier in one hand and a small brown bag in the other. The man didn't look exactly like he'd thought he would. Tony Stark had always been almost hilariously imposing in his mind, with a sharp suit and a sharper goatee, but this man was softer. Rougher.

His clothes were stained, his leather jacket rumpled, his hair messy and his face worn with the lines of memories. He seemed almost familiar somehow, and it unnerved Peter just as much as it comforted him.

"Here ya go, kid. Black coffee for me, hot chocolate and a snickerdoodle for you," Mr. Stark said once he'd walked over. Peter blinked in surprise, but managed to accept the drink and the bag with stumbling fingers.

"Oh, wow. Thank you, Mr. Stark, but you really didn't have to."

"Billionaire here, Spider-Kid. I can afford a cookie and a drink."

Peter thanked him again and, after a moment of hesitation, pulled his mask up to just above his nose, starting on the cookie. It was almost impossible to not fork it down immediately with how starved he felt. Mr. Stark waited patiently until he was finished with his snickerdoodle to start speaking, and Peter's ears burned.

"So," Mr. Stark started, "New York's benevolent vigilante that directs tourists and saves kittens from trees. Doesn't seem like a very exciting gig."

Peter narrowed his eyes, shuffling on his feet again nervously. What was his game?

He shrugged, taking a sip of his hot chocolate before answering, "It doesn't have to be exciting. I'm just trying to help out."

"Why?"

"Why--why help?"

"Exactly," Mr. Stark pointed, and suddenly he wasn't strangely familiar, he filled up the whole street. "Very few people help just to help, and even fewer dress themselves up in something that embarrassing just to help a few old ladies across the street. Why are you doing this? I gotta know. What's your MO? What gets you out of your apartment and into that onesie in the morning?"

"It's not a onesie," he muttered. Peter forced his fingers not to grip around the cup as images of a bloody street and dying shadows filled his head, instead redirecting the agitation into the scrunch of his face. He imagined he had his usual and embarrassing puppy scowl right now. He tried to release it with a sigh, but he didn't feel much better as he answered. "Because...because I've been me my whole life, and I've had these powers six months..."

Mr. Stark hummed in confirmation, goading Peter on. He swallowed down sick at the image of his aunt's brown hair drenched in blood before he continued. "I...I tried to move on at first. Just, hey! I have powers and I'm just gonna ignore it and showboat it. But...when you can do the things that I can, but you don't...and then the bad things happen..." He took a deep breath as Mr. Stark leaned in closer. "They happen because of you."

"So you wanna look out for the little guy? You wanna do your part? Make the world a better place, all that, right?"

Peter nodded fervently. "Yeah, yeah just looking out for the little guy. That's--that's what it is."

Mr. Stark nodded, his eyes glanced Peter up and down quickly before he asked softly, "And what about looking out for you?"

Peter startled, glaring at the man defensively. Did he just look like shit that much?

"What are you talking about? I'm doing fine."

"You reek of someone who hasn't been taking care of themselves, kid."

"I'm not a kid," he muttered, "And I'm fine."

"Yeah? Your arm's shaking."

Peter glanced down to see that, yes, his arm clutched around the hot chocolate was indeed shaking. Peter switched the drink to his other hand before shoving his arm in the pocket of his hoodie. "Just tired."

"It's barely ten."

"And I've been patrolling for--did you say ten?"

Mr. Stark seemed perturbed by his sudden shift, but Peter couldn't be bothered at the way his voice had lowered and shaken with slight fear or the way his entire self had tensed. Peter tore his hand out of his pocket to glare at the watch on his wrist. 9:57. Shit.

"Shit--fuck!" Peter exclaimed, pulling his mask back down. "Oh, shit. Sorry, Mr. Stark, I gotta go. Thank you so much for the hot chocolate, sir!"

"Kid, wait--"

He flicked out a wrist onto a nearby building, bending to leap when Mr. Stark's hand wrapped around his wrist.

Peter blinked at the odd sensation, holding back a flinch at the unexpected touch and tensing as his vision seemed to leap just a foot to the left before fizzing back to what it had been before. It left him dizzy and disoriented, but he only had a minute to get all the way from Manhattan to Queens. Maybe if he made it home within ten minutes he could get away with it or--

"Oh, my God..."

Peter turned at Mr. Stark's voice, realizing the man's hand was still gripping his wrist. He followed the billionaire's horribly stricken gaze to stare at whatever had left him dumb. Peter's jaw dropped as he caught sight of his shadow. It was his shadow.

The fluffy hair of his soulmate was suddenly gone and, instead, Peter's masked silhouette stood in its place. He glanced down at Mr. Stark's shadow, actions slow and jerky as he caught sight of it perfectly reflecting his own perked up jacket collar and outline of glasses. Carefully, Mr. Stark let go of his hand in a motion that felt like he was testing the waters. The shadows switched. The hooded figure shadowed Mr. Stark while the fluffy hair stood where Peter's shadow once had.

"What the..." Peter trailed off. His breaths felt lighter all the sudden. Fast. Too fast. The street was closing in, the cars passing nearby too loud and too bright and oh God his soulmate was Tony Stark. He swallowed painfully, tears biting at his eyes as he struggled for a breath.

His soulmate wasn't supposed to be Tony Stark. Peter couldn't--Peter couldn't live up to that! Mr. Stark had saved the world and he was an Avenger and he was the smartest man in the world and Peter was just some useless kid who got bullied and had a curfew and Jesus Christ he was going to be so late Mr. Fowler was going to be so mad and--

"Kid?" Mr. Stark asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Peter flinched and ducked away, the cup he'd been holding clattering from his hands as he stood opposite the man. Defensive. A shadow flashed against the man's face.

Peter read it as disappointment.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. He shot a web and leaped away, but he could never escape his shadow.

Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

[i-like-writing-stuff]

four months; part 2 [five hargreeves x reader]

a/n: thank you all so so much for your support and feedback! i literally could not believe that the first part has over 200 notes and yall want a continuation like omagash??? im soft, thank you guys <3

here is the long awaited part two, but before we dive into that, i felt the need to ask yall if you want five to be aged up?? in most x reader i’ve read on this site, five is aged up, but I felt like, in my case, i didn’t really needed to mention that because i am only like two months older than the actor, and its not like im gonna write smut with him- gross. point is, idk. should i age him up tho??? idk what to do, so here are both aidan and timothee to soothe ur heart for this second part!! <3

(the gifs do not belong to me, lemme know if u know who made them so i can give credits- they’re real cute mah gawsh!!!)

alsoo if you want more five imagines or literally any other hargreeves sibling or fictional character ousside tua, feel free to leave a request in my inbox! kisses <3

summary: after a long family meeting and more booze, you decide to make a bold move and profess your buried feelings.

part 1

“Men are stupid shitheads.” You concluded, setting your flask on the counter, looking at the new bangs Allison had just cut for you.

Even in her drunken state, they seemed to be very nicely done. You were quite surprised by the way they turned out, but pleased nonetheless. It was a spontaneous decision, getting bangs. You had been sitting in the hair salon she was working at with her, Klaus and Vanya after a not so great family meeting.

Hugs were shared, true, but then arguments started and before you even knew it, Luther stormed out, Diego followed him, Five went missing for whatever business he had, and Klaus claimed that Ben was not even there- apparently, ghosts can’t time travel.

So, it was just the four of you, drunk in a hair salon, with too much alcohol and way too many scissors around you, complaining about how shitty your love lives could be.

“Amen.” Klaus raised his drink in the air, “I’ll drink to that.”

“Right?” Allison nodded, combing her second client, Klaus, “The nerve of Ray! I mean, one thing goes wrong and he’s on a warpath!” She vented, holding the bottle of liquor in her free hand, “I mean, doesn’t know who I am?! No, no! No, Ray- you know exactly who I am, you just can’t handle it!”

You watched with a raised brow as Vanya was out of zone, pretending to be shooting the long line of empty bottles gathered in front of her, as Allison kept on continuing her rant. Her husband had just seen her use her powers on the night they started the protest, and was now having a real hard time comprehending what was going on. You didn’t see him at home either, so you figured he may have been upset with you as well for maybe hiding the secret. Or maybe he thought you were like her, who knows?

“Hey, wouldn’t it be weird if Five grew up all hot?” Klaus suddenly asked, taking a drag out of his cigarette, as he got up from his seat to walk around the hair salon, “Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Why would you even think of your brother like that?” You asked riddled, narrowing your eyes at the man as his sisters almost gagged at the thought.

“Oh, please, you’ve been thinking that, haven’t you?” Klaus asked, pointing at you as you took another swig from your nearly empty flask.

“I... I mean- he’s... Five... uh... no comment!” You suddenly declared, at loss of words, as you got up from your seat, trying to maintain your balance as you made your way towards the bottle of liquor to fill your flask again.

“When are you two gonna confess your feelings?” Allison asked with a groan, letting her head fall backwards as she sat on the chair, “It’s getting really tiring!”

“We have an apocalypse going on!” You argued, “There’s no time for feelings!”

“This is the perfect time for feelings!” Klaus chimed in, taking another drag out of his cigarette, “These might be your last six days on Earth! Do you want to die regretting that you never told Five how you felt about him?”

“I’m not having this conversation anymore.” You declared, out of arguments, as you poured liquor in your flask, “Why don’t we talk about Allison’s crush on Luther instead?”

“We have never even kissed!” Allison defended herself, causing Vanya to spin on her chair confused, looking between the three of you.

“Yeah, but you guys were making little sick moon-dog eyes at each other all through puberty and breakfasts and... all that.” Klaus waved her off, sipping from his own flask.

“Aren’t we all brothers and sisters, or...?” Vanya wondered confused, as you and Klaus snorted amused at her innocence.

“Well... technically...” Allison tried to find an excuse or explanation, but she was having a hard time putting her thoughts in place.

“Technically?” Klaus raised a brow, “If you....” He stammered, trying to regain his train of thought, “If you have to use the word technically, you’re already in trouble.”

“Okay, can we go back to Five and Y/N?” Allison tried to change the subject, “Or maybe at least help me save my marriage?”

“That’s like...” Klaus stumbled on his own feet, filling his flask again, as you leaned against Vanya’s chair curiously, “That’s like asking a nun how to hump someone’s leg! I mean, who in this room knows shit about relationships? This one?” He asked, pointing at Vanya, “In secret love with some farm Frau!”

“Her name’s Sissy.” Vanya informed him.

“Which is an improvement on her previous love interest.” He said, looking at you and Allison, as you shook your heads to slightly tell him to shut up, “...the serial killer.”

“What?!” Vanya yelled, looking between you and Allison for an explanation, but you just softly waved her off, promising to remind her later.

“And look at this one!” Klaus ignored the three of you, pointing at... well, you, “A fifty year old assassin, who got the chance to be a teen again, but she is too afraid to admit her feelings for the... wait, is Five a boy or a man?”

“Both?” You raised a brow, unsure of the answer.

“Meanwhile, I’m carrying a torch for a soldier I haven’t technically met yet, and Luther is in love with his sister.” Klaus waved you off, trying to keep his balance again on his feet.

“Okay, again- we are not biological!” Allison tried to defend herself once more, but Klaus simply ignored her.

“Face it, the healthiest long-term relationship in this family was when Five was banging that mannequin.” He said, making all of you nod in agreement, as you couldn’t help but confess, taking another chug out of your flask;

“I can’t believe I got to the point where I was jealous of Dolores.”

Okay, maybe ‘banging’ and ‘jealous’ were strong words, but you had to admit you were not that pleased when one of the first things that Five did when he got back to 2019, was go to some store to get back his plastic girlfriend who kept him company in the four decades he spent all by himself in the apocalypse.

You understood his mind, though. You would have gone insane as well if you had to be all alone after the end of the world, without another soul on the planet. Nonetheless, you still were maybe a tad too happy when he decided to return her to the store.

Leaving you the only woman he had eyes for, unbeknownst to you.

“I’m gonna tell Sissy that I love her.” Vanya suddenly declared, straightening her position confidently.

“You go, girl!” You cheered, clapping for your friend.

“I don’t want any secrets.” She said, making you and the other two nod in agreement, contemplating about your own lives.

“Yeah!” Allison said, getting up with the bottle of alcohol tightly clutched in her hand, “Yeah, yeah- you’re right! Yes, ‘cause, you know- if this all goes tits-up, the least I can do is be honest with my husband!

“Oh, does that mean I have to face my cult?” Klaus sighed, “I just hate group break-ups, it’s why I stopped dating twins!”

You pondered about it for a moment, in your state that was definitely not the most sober. You had a lot of alcohol coursing through your veins, but you felt like maybe it was better. You could think with your heart more than you could think with your brain, and your heart was telling you that your friends were right.

They all are getting themselves ready to take big risks in their lives, why shouldn’t you? They had a valid point; the world was gonna end in six days if you guys couldn’t find a way to solve this. Last time you didn’t have the brightest plan, so why should this time be a success? Reality hit you; there was a real big chance that you might die.

So why not just be honest with Five? What was the worst that could happen? You manage to save the world and Five rejects you? Big deal!

Well, it actually was a big deal.

“What if he rejects me?” You asked all of a sudden, causing the three siblings to turn to you, “What if I tell Five how I feel about him and he rejects me? I know maybe at my age I shouldn’t be this anxious about a man, but... it’s not like I’m going anywhere, I’m glued to the Hargreeves clan.”

And it was true. After the events of the 2019 apocalypse, right before you and the others got separated, you shared an adorable moment in which you confessed to each other how happy you were to have met and be taken into their family as one of their own.

“Normally, I’d say to not ponder on that for too... long.” Klaus slurred, “But given that it’s Five, you don’t even have to worry about that.”

“He’s right.” Allison shrugged, “That won’t be a problem.

“I have no memory of any of you, but from the hug I’ve seen you two share earlier- you’re not just friends.” Vanya spoke up, making you stare into nothingness for a moment.

I mean, it’s Five we are talking about. If he were to have any feelings, it’s not like he’d be honest with them or act, right? It would be up to you to make the first move.

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your hands on your upper arms, reminding yourself of the hug. It may have been the first time you and Five actually hugged, in all the years you’ve known each other. The way he held you close and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent, feeling you in his arms, even if for him it had been only four days. You had to live with the thought that he may be dead for months.

And you hated that, you knew you wanted him alongside you. You wanted that little rude, at times obnoxious dipshit, with a soft heart- as much as he hated to admit it. You loved how much he cared about his family, about saving the world. Five is a great person; he is caring and has a big heart, as much as he tried to hide it behind his trashmouth.

“Fine!” You groaned, letting your head fall backwards, “I’ll tell Five I fucking love him and his dipshit face!”

“Yes!” Klaus clapped, as Allison and Vanya cheered proudly, “Come here!”

You and Vanya walked towards him, as Allison wrapped an arm around his waist, waiting for the two of you to skip towards them, pulling you into a group hug, as “Twistin’ the night away” by Sam Cooke blasted on the radio, causing the four of you to start a small dance party, letting for the first time in a long while your problems just go away.

For the sake of the song.

After a couple more hours of drinking, gossiping and dancing, the four of you decided to finally part ways and attend your promised business. Klaus went to deal with his cult, as Allison decided to be completely honest with her husband at home and Vanya was going to confess to Sissy.

As for you?

You were going to tell Five Hargreeves you were in love with him.

“Hey, dipshit!” You confidently yelled, running up the stairs of the store, trying to find Five.

“Y/N?” Five frowned, walking out of the kitchen with a coffee mug in his hands and a confused look on his face, “Are you... even more drunk? And did you get bangs- what the...?”

“Shut up.” You waved him off, walking towards him to grab the mug out of his hand to sober yourself up, “Why in the hell are you even drinking coffee at this hour?”

“I’m... trying to calm myself...” He frowned, watching as you chugged his freshly poured coffee.

“Normally I’d ask.” You said, setting the mug on the counter, shaking your head, “But right now what I have to say is more important.”

“Is that so?” Five raised a brow curiously, as you slowly slapped your cheeks, trying to get the room to stop moving, “Why don’t you go to bed?” He asked, gently pushing you towards the couch, “And we talk in the morning? I don’t really have time for this.”

“No!” You yelled, stopping in your tracks to poke his chest, “We don’t have to talk! I talk and you- you listen!” You said, poking his chest again, “You never have time for anything, all you can think of is your stupid apocalypse!”

“Oh yes, isn’t that a trivial thing to be thinking of?” He asked with a sarcastic smile, crossing his arms.

“I don’t need your sarcasm!” You yelled, poking his chest a third time, feeling him get more tense.

“I swear to God, Y/N, if you do that one more time-...” Five took in a deep breath, as he could feel as he was slowly losing his patience.

“Shut up!” You groaned, watching as his brows knitted in confusion, “I’m trying to confess my feelings for you, you moron!”

“W...What?” He asked, as his face suddenly softened, unfolding his arms.

“I’m in love with you!” You sighed, rubbing your face, “Okay? I-I am in love with you and I am trying to sober myself up, but I think I may have had too much to drink.”

“You think?” Five scoffed, slowly leading you towards the couch, “Are you sure you’re not saying this just because you have a ton of alcohol coursing through you?”

“Well... kinda, ‘cause if I were sober there was no way in hell I would have confessed.” You puffed, complying, as you let yourself guided by him, “Allison, Klaus and Vanya all convinced me that I should tell you, that we only have six days left on Earth and in case we don’t save it... I shouldn’t be going down with regrets.”

Five listened to your every word carefully, as you continuing venting about how his siblings spent the whole day trying to convince you to tell him about your feelings, as he slowly held your hands, as you took a seat on the couch. He nodded at your words to let you know that he was listening, as he took two pillows off the armchairs beside, placing them at one end, softly pushing you down.

“...and then Klaus said that he hates group breakups.” You said, not even noticing what was going on, feeling your lids get heavier once your head met the pillow.

“Not a surprise there...” Five muttered, grabbing the blanket that was rested on top of the couch, placing it over you.

“Are you trying to dismiss me?” You wondered, but still making yourself more comfortable, as you sat on your side, with your head facing Five, who knelt in front of you tired.

He bit back a smile, watching as you slowly closed your eyes. He knew you were extremely drunk, he could see that in the way exhaust took over you. Not only you had a lot of alcohol in your system, but you’ve also had some long couple of days, and some longer ones were ahead of you until you knew for a fact the world was safe once more.

“I don’t know how it is, that you’re the one person who actually makes me feel... soft.” He confessed, watching your lips curve into a smile at his words, “You... drunken idiot.”

“I regret nothing.” You said proudly, as Five couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, softly stroking your hair to help you fall asleep sooner.

“We’ll see about that in the morning.” He smirked amused, watching as you pouted.

“You never gave me an answer, you know.” You pointed out, letting his soft touch calm you down, as you felt sleep slowly take over you.

“You never gave me a question.” He retorted, knowing for sure that if your eyes were opened, you would roll them at him.

“I think you like to hear me say that I am in love with you, it’s the third time I have to say it.” You said, slowly placing your hands under your pillow, making yourself more comfortable.

“I am happy to see that you still know how to count.” Five said, placing some wild strands of hair behind your ear.

“Screw you.” You said, making him grin, as he went back to stroking your hair.

“In this whole... shitty situation I managed to get myself into, you, Y/N, might as well be the only thing keeping me sane... surprisingly.” Five frowned at the last bit, watching as you opened your eyes, shifting your head to watch him, “I love you too, moron.”

“I never said I love you.” You smirked, teasing him as he rolled his eyes.

“You little chipmunk...” Five sighed, shaking his head in disbelief amused, as you leaned into his touch more, closing your eyes, pleased with yourself.

“Yeah, but you still love me.” You said, not once dropping that smirk on your lips.

“You’re impossible, did you know that?” He wondered, resting his forearm on the couch beside you, as he knelt on the floor, trying to make himself more comfortable, noticing the way you were enjoying the scalp massage... for free.

“A little bit.” You slowly shrugged, wrapping your arms around his, once you felt it beside you.

Five watched with a soft smile as you pulled his arms closer to your face, nuzzling into it with a satisfied smile, happy that you listened to your friends.

And deep down, so was Five thanking his siblings.

[joyful-soul-collector]

❄️Week 1: December 9-15❄️

stars in the city ch. 10 by @parkrstark (Pt. 3 of constant as the stars above)

Summary: Peter and Steve are finally settling into their new life with Tony. Recovery isn't always a straight line, especially with a four-year-old, but they're trying their best. Their newfound fame has Steve juggling between his private life and the one plastered on the front page of every tabloid. He shouldn't have been surprised that the public didn't believe in his rags to riches love story. Tony usually makes it easier for him to handle it all. Until he starts to distance himself from Steve, as if now he's the one hiding something. And Steve is left wondering if he's about to lose Tony for good this time.

Relationships/Tropes: Stony, Irondad, Papa Steve, Homeless Peter Parker, Homeless Steve Rogers, No Powers AU, (Coffee Shop AU??? Sorta)

Review: This fic just always makes my heart ache in the best way. So much fluff, so much angst, it's a perfect balance that I'm just absolutely in love with!

❄️

Devils Roll The Dice ch. 9 by @ephemeralstark

Summary: “I miss you Mr. Stark,” Peter admitted as he stared up through the leaves overhead at the stars that twinkled promisingly at him, “I wish you were back here. I would give anything to fix things, I would give anything for you to be alive today.” What Peter didn't know, as he made that wish and closed his eyes, letting the tears fall shamefully, was that the Universe was always listening, and it was dangerous to make a wish and offer up anything. - Tony Stark wakes up in his bed one morning, not realising that months have passed since his death - that's going to be awkward to explain to the world. Peter Parker has been living on the streets, trying to hide his identity as the entire world wants Spider-Man dead, and dealing with the trauma that Beck left him. To make things worse - it's now his fault that yet another bad guy thinks they're entitled to owning Earth.

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Spideychelle, Pepperony, Happy Hogan/May Parker, Homeless Peter Parker, Post-FFH, Post-Identity Reveal, Tony Stark Comes Back To Life

Review: Oh man this fic is so sad and so sweet, I love it so much! I love how it combines Peter's trauma after Mysterio with his reaction to finding out that Tony is alive again, it's just so creative!

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His Heart Bloomed Sunflowers (and he wore them on his skin) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 24 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Peter honestly didn't know how no one had discovered his tattoos yet. He wasn't broadcasting them but he wasn't exactly being the most subtle either. Although he was partly grateful for it since he was dreading what would happen when May on Tony saw them. But he was pleasantly surprised at the reactions that he got when he was found out. Peter had expected anger, disappointment, maybe annoyance at the very least. What he got was far from that. (A sequel to Comfortember Day 4. Anxiety) Comfortember Day 29. Make/Build/Create Something Beautiful

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Spideychelle, Tattoos, Comfortember

Review: I love this fic so much! I loved the description of how the flowers wilted when the ones he'd drawn had faded, and how the ones he got tattooed never wilted again :']

❄️

I’ll drive all night (to keep them warm) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 23 of Comfortember 2020) 

Summary: For the next hour they tried to calm Morgan again but, just like the rest of the day with Tony and Pepper, nothing was working. No teething rings, gel, nothing. The little girl was just well and truly grumpy, tired, and sore.

Suddenly an idea came to Peter and he turned to Tony and Pepper. 

"Can I try something?"

They both nodded at him, prompting him to continue with his idea.

"Can I take her for a drive?" He asked. "I'm not sure if it'll work but Ben used to do it for me when I was younger and it always calmed me down."

Comfortember day 28. Car Ride

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Baby Morgan, Car Rides, Comfortember

Review: This one was so cute! I love Peter being a good big brother to baby Morgan, and I relate to finding trips in the car relaxing and nice :D

❄️

It’s What Brothers Do by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 22 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Morgan was somehow full of even more energy than usual that day and wanted to see if she could do the monkey bars that were attached to the jungle gym herself. Before Peter could stop her, she had already grabbed hold of the first one and let herself swing towards the next one.

But the little girl had misjudged just how heavy swinging your own body weight was and almost immediately started falling. Peter shot forward from his place on the ground, jumping and diving, just managing to catch her before they both hit the grass of the park grounds. Comfortember Day 27. Park

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Pepperony, Peter & Morgan, Irondad, Peter Protects Morgan, Comfortember

Review: Another cute Big Brother Peter fic! I love that Peter was really protecting Morgan in this one, he loves her enough to put himself in harm's way to protect her

❄️

The Burger Debate by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 21 of Comfortember 2020) 

Summary: Tony and Peter shared a lot of similarities, there was no doubt about it. A lot of their mannerisms were the same, personality quirks (especially in the lab), occasional recklessness, selfless hero personas, etc etc. However, one thing they didn't share was their taste in burgers. Whenever the topic came up there was a friendly, yet heated, 'disagreement' as Tony called it. No matter what anyone ever told him, Tony thought that a cheeseburger was the holy grail of burgers. And Peter, well… he happened to think the same only for chicken burgers.

Comfortember Day 26. Junk Food

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Infinity War Compliant, Not Endgame Compliant

Review: This was so sweet and so sad, especially the part where Tony couldn't eat burgers while Peter was snapped because it hurt him too much. It showed his grief really well

❄️

Career Day Drabble by @jen27ny 

Summary: uncle happy and uncle rhodey come to peter’s career day

Relationships/Tropes: Happy & Peter, Rhodey & Peter, Happy & Rhodey, Minor Irondad, Career Day

Review:  I loved this story so much! I really appreciate seeing some nice Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy content!!

❄️

Gifts by @wayward-fairchild (Pt. 5 of Holiday Collection 2020) 

Summary: Rhodey and Tony have been together to the point Rhodey sees the kids as his own. Maybe that is why the kids agree to help with Rhodey's biggest gift to Tony yet.

Relationships/Tropes: Rhodey & Tony, Irondad, Rhodey & Peter, Christmas, Kid Peter

Review: This was just absolutely adorable! I love some Irondads content and this was very sweet

❄️

evermore by @lyssismagical

Summary: Just a Solid Vent Fic. I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho

Relationships/Tropes: Spideychelle, Irondad, Peter Overworks Himself

Review: I loved this one a lot! I definitely relate to Peter with tending to overwork myself during school and letting other things fall away, and then feeling quite exhausted after it's all over haha. I'm glad MJ and Tony were able to help him <3

❄️

Two Hours Spent Cuddling by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 2 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: A giant snowstorm takes out the power in the tower. While waiting for the backup generator to come up, the Stark-Rhodes family finds a way to stay warm.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: I. Love this story. So much. I haven't seen very many stories that center around Rhodey being a father-figure to Peter, and this one definitely filled all my desires for such a story! It's so fluffy and sweet, and I loved every word :D

❄️

Three Stark-Rhodes’ Decorating by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Tony, Rhodey, and Peter Stark-Rhodes begin decorating for the holiday season.

Relationships/Tropes:  Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This story was absolutely adorable! It was another featuring Papa Rhodey and Dad Tony with Little Peter, and it was so well done! I love that Tony's robots and JARVIS each get a stocking hung over the fire too, and the way Peter pronounce ornaments as "orminents" was so cute!!!

❄️

Four Poorly Wrapped Presents by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Peter has two presents each for his Daddy and his Papa. The only problem was, he had no idea how to wrap them. He figures the Avengers could help.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Avengers Family, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This was so sweet! Clint, Nat, and Steve treat Peter with such sweetness, and it made my heart all fuzzy and warm <3

❄️

If you look at any these stories, be sure to show the author your appreciation with a comment/kudos/reblog where applicable!

Click here for more fanfic rec lists!

[ampmiscfiles]

Let Us Love You: Chapter 8

Start at the beginning

Bucky watched with a thoughtful expression as Peter left. There was no denying the omega hadn't looked at him quite like he had before.

He looked......unsure.

He debated on letting the others know, but he didn't have to say anything.

"That was interesting." Natasha said, eyebrows raised.

"What was?" Steve asked, turning from where Karen had walked off.

"Bucky and Peter." she answered.

The three other alphas snapped to attention.

"What about them?" Thor pushed.

"We just made eye contact. She's making something out of nothing." Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

"There was something different in that look." Natasha said, crossing her arms.

"I don't see why this is such a big deal. We all know he was close to the version of me in his world. He damn near shuts down every time he sees me. You'd be better off ignoring what you saw. It wasn't me he was looking at." Bucky glared before stomping off.

"Was it really a big deal?" Steve asked, looking at Natasha carefully. "I mean, Buck's not wrong. Peter had a connection with his version, it really could just be that."

"Oh, it's definitely a little bit of that. I could see it. He misses him. Most likely it's the same with Sam. Still, he knew he wasn't looking at his Barnes. He was trying to seen him in ours though."

"Perhaps this is a good thing." Thor hummed. "If we can convince him to talk to our friend Barnes, then he could see ours is the same as his!"

"That might work in theory, big guy," Tony nodded. "But how do you propose to get close enough to Peter to suggest it? How would you suggest it?"

"It's not a bad idea. I think Peter wants to talk to him, but our other selves have left a serious impression on him." Natasha said, moving to follow where Bucky had gone. "Let's go. We need to do a little brainstorming."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Welcome to my awesome abode. I'd be glad to show you around. Maybe you'd like to see the inside of my bedroom?" Johnny winked, opening the door wide for Peter to enter.

"I've literally been here multiple times. I think I can get around just fine." Peter smirked. "Plus, I've seen your bedroom. It's a disaster."

"You've seen theother me'sroom. I can assure you thatmineis ready for company."

"I bet it is." Peter rolled his eyes. "Where is everyone?"

"In the kitchen. Come on, I'll win you over with my co-"

"You can't cook." Peter snorted.

"You don't know that!"

"What are we having?"

"It's.......um..."

"Exactly." Peter laughed, passing Johnny and heading towards the kitchen.

"Are you sure we're just friends? I feel like there's something between us."

"Yeah, a mutual respect for giving each other shit."

"You know, I think you're ignoring the fact I'm a different Johnny Storm here." Johnny pouted, crossing his arms.

"No. You're still the same idiot." Peter chuckled, flicking his forehead.

"I'll have you know, I'm a highly sought-after alpha. Everyone wants a piece of this." he gestured to his whole body.

"I bet. I had to fight the crowd of screaming fangirls just to get in here." Peter deadpanned.

The truth was, Johnny was every bit as good looking in this universe as he had been in Peter's. Still, just as he retained his looks here, he also retained his extreme level of self-confidence.

"I'll win you over yet, Parker."

"Uh hu. Sure. Just don't hold your breath."

Peter would never admit he had once had a major crush on his own Johnny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Peter!" Reed smiled as he and Johnny entered the kitchen.

Sue smiled as she looked up from pulling a pan of lasagna out of the oven.

"Hello, Peter. Everything is almost done. Why don't you all go join Ben."

"Yes! I have so ma-"

"Reed." Sue warned. "He only just got here."

"It's ok, really." Peter smiled.

"I was used to this." he said, motioning between him and Reed.

"Let's talk then. I'm curious about your story. The multiverse isn't a common topic I get to discuss!"

"Well, I can't tell you you're gonna like most of what I have to say. Still, it's great to see you guys again." Peter smiled, genuinely happy to see the family of four back together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Heard we missed all the fun." Clint called, stepping off the elevator with his bags. "You guys couldn't have waited?"

"Sure. Next time we'll ask the killer robot army to hang on and let our other team mates get back from their impromptu vacation." Tony huffed.

"You all seem in a better mood than when we left. Something happen?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at others.

The alphas were gathered in the common area talking eagerly amongst themselves.

"Yes." Thor smiled widely. "We have decided to properly court our omega. We shall return to the old ways."

"Who says romance is dead?" Tony grinned. "We're gonna woo the hell out of him!”

"This should be fun." Sam deadpanned.

“Oh ye of little faith. We're an extremely romantic bunch when let loose.” Tony scoffed.

“The guy couldn’t be more clear on his desire not to be your omega.”

“We’ve been talking to Karen and each other. Slow and steady wins the race and all that.”

“I think we made it back in perfect time then!” Clint grinned, opening his bag. “Brought some of Laura and the kids’ things. They missed you guys.”

Clint passed out the few items he had brought from his home. The scents of Laura and the three kids extended into the room. The calm of knowing their distant pack members were safe settled the atmosphere.

“We’ll get out to see them soon.” Natasha smiled, rubbing the small stuffed bunny she knew belonged to Nathaniel.

“We may even get to introduce them to Peter.” Steve said, a hopeful lit in his voice.

“Please don’t push that on him.” Bruce sighed. “It’s going to be enough on him dealing with you all, much less integrating into a full pack.”

“We are fully prepared to take it slow with our young omega.” Thor smiled.

The four other alphas nodded in agreement. There was no other option really. Sam was right in his statement that Peter seemed to want nothing to do with them, but Peter's conflict over Bucky had revived their hopes.

Maybe it wasn't such a lost cause after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your universe sucked.” Johnny scoffed from his seat next to Peter.

“I don’t always get along with Stark, but it’s deeply upsetting to hear about a version of him that was so violent.” Reed frowned, taking his own seat.

“I just can’t picture any of them being like that.” Sue agreed.

“Well, good thing ours arn’t like that. Not sure I could clobber them all at once.” Ben huffed.

Peter listened as the four voiced their opinions of the Avengers.To be honest, he was getting a little sick and tired of everyone telling him how wonderful they were.

They were wonderful in his world at once too!Everyone loved them and practically worshipped them!

Truth be told, there was no real understanding of the change. It wasn’t like anyone was opposing them. Who would? The Avengers risked their lives to help people, to keep them safe. Why would they evenneedto change?

Not that it mattered. They did change. They went from saving people tohurtingthem. They lorded their power over the people, and gleefully killed those who posed any real threat.

They were monsters!

Peter absently ran his hand along his thigh where he knew a long scar sat. A memorial to a particularly brutal up close fight with Black Widow. She had managed to stun him with her widow bites, slowing him down enough to prevent an unharmed escape. It could have been much worse, he knew, but he got lucky in where the bites had hit him.

She had been aiming for a fatal blow.

His movement had saved him from a slow death, but the blade had torn practically through to the bone in his thigh. If Bucky hadn’t shown up, she would have finished the job. As it was, he was out of commission for two weeks before the wound had healed, feeling had returned, and the leg moved without stiffness.

God, the blood she had spilt.

“Peter?”

Peter startled out of his thoughts to find the four looking at him.

“Sorry.” he mumbled. “I can get lost in thought sometimes.”

“Well, I’m more than willing to help you with that.” Johnny grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh I know you can. You always could bore me right to sleep.” Peter snarked.

The others laughed and began passing around the food as Johnny pouted.

"So, you said there are no second genders where you're from?" Sue asked, curious as to how Peter was handling the change.

"No, we definitely didn't have alphas, betas, and omegas where I'm from. It was.....surprising to say the least." Peter winced.

"Well, you seem to be doing alright as a beta." Reed smiled.

"Beta?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Your scent is barely there. Beta scents are generally muted. Yours seems a little more so. Maybe it's because you weren't originally from here. Do you not know your second gender though, or did you think you hadn't gained one?" Sue frowned.

"I would have figured Matt and Karen would have explained things to you."

Peter looked around the table, unconsciously touching his wrist where one of the patches sat under his sleeve and web shooter.

"No," Peter hesitated. "They did, I.....I'm just still adjusting it all. I mean, I lived 26 years without all this, so it's easy to forget sometimes."

Ben, Sue, and Reed nodded, striking back up light conversation and more questions about himself and how he was getting along. Out the corner of his eye, Peter couldn't ignore the strange look Johnny kept giving him.

"So, what are you going by if you can't be a Parker?" Ben asked, drawing Peter's thoughts away from Johnny.

"Jones." Peter sighed.

"Any relation to Jessica Jones?" Reed asked.

"Yeah." Peter huffed. "Everyone thought they were so funny when they decided to make me Jessica's cousin."

"What's funny about that?" Sue frowned. "Did the two of you date back in your world?"

"Not hardly." Peter laughed.

"No, they just thought my initials were a nice joke.They left my first and middle name then changed my last."

"What's your name then?"

"My name is Peter Benjamin Par...err, Jones. Peter Benjamin Jones."

"I'm sure you'd make a delicious sandwich." Johnny snorted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours had passed before Peter noticed the time. He had been enjoying himself while getting acquainted with this version of the Four. They were practically identical to his, making connecting with them extremely easy.

“Well, I guess I better get going. Karen’s a worrier.”

“Don’t let Matt fool you, Peter,” Sue smirked. “He’s a worrier too with people he cares about. I saw you two talking.”

“Matt was the first person I went to after I got here. I was good friends with him.” Peter smiled.

He was happy to have Matt and Karen, and to be gathering back all the people he lost, but Ben, May, Bucky and Sam were never far from his mind. The people he wanted most were the people he’d never get.

After promising to visit again, and give a demonstration of his strength levels compared to Ben's, Johnny led Peter out.

"So, Pete," Johnny started, unusually hesitant compared to his normal composure.

"The others didn't press, but I'm going to. You're an omega, aren't you?"

Peter blinked in surprise. He had yet to have to admit his second gender to anyone on his own yet. Everyone who knew, had either discovered from his scent, or been told by someone else.

"I could see the scent patch occasionally when your sleeve moved up and your, whatever those are on your wrists, shifted."

Peter swallowed hard, not missing the fact Johnny had moved into his space.

"I...uh.."

"It's ok, Pete." Johnny smirked, stepping back. "I'm not going to blab your secret. I am, however, going to knock you off your feet! You'll give in to me yet, Jones."

"I don't think you want to try, Storm." Peter replied, breathing a little easier as Johnny's alpha pheromones calmed.

"Why? Do you already have an alpha? I just don't see any mating marks."

Mating marks?

Peter frowned. He hadn't heard of any 'mating marks'. Was there more he had to learn? Maybe he should keep blowing Karen's lessons off.

"No. I don't have an alpha, and I'm not interested in one." Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Fair enough." Johnny smiled, holding up his hands in surrender. "But that doesn't mean I won't keep trying."

Peter sighed. While he wasn't about to let Johnny Storm in on his alpha problem, he couldn't forget how the Avengers had reacted to Wade when they realized the two were hanging out together.

Deadpool hadn't been in any real danger since he could easily regenerate, but Johnny couldn't.

If anything Karen had already told him had gotten through, it was that alphas could be possessive. He had already seen it in action, and the Avengers were anything but normal alphas.

Still, he wasn't going to let that stop him from hanging around people he actually trusted.

They would just have to deal.

If they couldn't, and tried to hurt his friends, he'd be ready.

As he made his way back toward Matt and Karen's, he didn't even notice how his thoughts on the Avengers had changed from "when", to "if".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You smell like Johnny Storm." Karen frowned when he walked through the door.

"Hello Karen. I see your fine after today's events. My dinner with the Four was great. If was nice to catch up. Thanks for asking."

"Don't sass me, Peter Jones." Karen glared, following him to his room, passing a smirking Matt along the way.

"What if you had run into your alphas? You're unmated and smelling of an alpha that's not one of them! Even worse that it's Johnny with his flirty reputation."

"I'm not avoiding friends just becausetheymight not like it, Karen!" Peter shouted, turning around with his own glare.

"They don't own me and never will. I don't want them! I don't trust them! It doesn't matter what everyone else thinks of them. I can't stand them!"

"Peter, please," Karen tried.

"No. This discussion is over Karen. I'm never going to be with the Avengers. It's not happening."

"You won't even give them a chance!" Karen shouted, her frustration rising. "You're so hell bent on seeing them as the same villains they were in your world that you refuse to see them as the heroes they are here! This isn't your old world, Peter! You can't keep hanging on to what happened there. You're here now!"

The two glared at each other, neither wanting to admit defeat.

"You don't know what you're talking about Karen. You have no idea what I've been through."

"I have a damn good idea, Peter! You've made no effort to hide your disdain for them. You have no problems admitting what those other Avengers did to you. I know it's left physical as well as mental scars, but did you ever stop and think that maybe getting to know these Avengers could help you heal?"

There was complete silence as Karen's words hung in the air.

"Getting to know them and seeing they're who you wish your Avengers had been could be good for you. You could finally relax a little and try to move on. You've been here for months now Peter, and yet you still hold everything from your past so close it's like it all happened yesterday."

Karen sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"We're all still here, Peter. Nothing has happened to any of us and they've had more than enough opportunity to hurt us if they wanted to. They've had plenty of chances to kill the others and make it look like a casualty of a fight and no one would question it, but they haven't. They haven't, and you need to realize and accept it."

Without another word, Karen turned and headed into her and Matt's bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anger rippling under his skin, Peter left the apartment and headed towards Luke's bar. Maybe he could find something there to keep himself busy.

Anything to get his mind off his....whatever that was, with Karen.

Shoving his way into the back door, the sounds from the front filtered in through his ears. The place was at peek hour.

"I swear, if one more asshole-Peter?"

Peter looked over as Luke stormed into the back, grabbing a bucket and mop.

"Rough night?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, it's gonna be for the shit that just broke a beer bottle over a guy's head. They're both about to clean up their little mess, then get thrown out on their asses." Luke grumbled, kicking the door back open and shouting.

Peter decided to hang out in the back, letting Luke handle things before making his way up front.

"Get out here, Jones." Luke snapped, sticking his head back through the door. "Make yourself useful and come serve some drinks."

Grinning, Peter slid his way behind the bar and got to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was slowing down to the more, quieter patrons of the night. These were the people Peter liked the most. While the more boisterous crowd could be fun, they could also be annoying and demanding. Some even tried to get a little handsy, over the bar.

This crowd though, this was crowd was just looking for a little break from the world.

Peter heard someone sit at the bar while he was crouched, placing glasses back into their places. Rubbing his hands on his pants, he stood up to greet the customer and....froze.

Sam Wilson stared back, as equally surprised to see him.

The two just stared at each other, neither knowing how to react.

"Hey, Pete-" Luke stopped as he took in what was happening.

He wasn't quite sure what to do, and it didn't appear as if Peter or Sam knew either. Had it been any of the alphas, Luke would have easily jumped in, knowing how stressed Peter would be.

Sam wasn't an alpha though.

“Let me start by saying your secret is safe with me.” Sam said. “I’m pretty burnt out on alpha desperation at this point. I just want to have a drink and enjoy it.”

Peter stared at him a moment before moving forward.

“What would you like?”

“Whatever you recommend.”

Peter looked at him again. Guess Sam was willing to trust his judgement in drinks in any universe.

Sam nodded as Peter slid a glass across the counter top and took a swig.

“I hope we’re not gonna spend the entire time in here in this strange, tense silence.”

Peter sighed.

“This isn’t....this isn’t easy for me.”

“I’ve gotten that impression. I also heard you were close to your world’s Bucky and I.”

“Y...yeah.” Peter frowned. “By the end, they were my best friends.....they were all I had left.”

The two were silent again as Peter busied himself with meaningless tasks.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Sam said suddenly. “I think I would have reacted the same way.”

Peter stood with his back to Sam, debating on his next move.

Finally, he turned.

“You’re a lot like him, well, when he wasn’t giving me shit anyway.” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, I can give you shit if that’s what you’re looking for spider boy.” Sam grinned.

Peter grinned back, strangely comfortable in this Sam’s presence.

Maybe all Sam’s were pretty much the same.

“Look. I know you’re probably willing to talk to me like thishere. I can see Cage keeping an eye on you, but I think, if we got along in your world, we could get along here.”

Peter hesitated, the since of unease returning.

“I’m not trying to hand you over to the wolves!” Sam said quickly. “I’m more so trying to offer up another friendship. One that gets me away from everyone at the tower and one that offers you.....” Sam hesitated, unsure if he should continue.

“Maybe something that offers you a bit of what you lost?”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of this Sam’s offer. As much as he missed his own, and as similar as the two seemed, could he really ever think of this Sam as a friend on par with his?

“I...um...”

“You don’t have to answer me now.” Sam assured. “Maybe just think about it. I realize I’m part of the enemy here, but I promise I’m not a bad guy.”

“Yeah.” Peter snorted. “You’re not trying to get into my pants.”

“You do realize there’s more to it than that, right?”

“I’m not really interested.” Peter replied. “You don’t know what it was like to see them hurt people. To see them kill you and Bucky.”

“I’d offer up the argument that these Avengers haven’t done that considering Bucky and I are clearly still alive, but I have the feeling you’ve heard that line enough.”

“That obvious?”

“From five words in.”

Peter let out a breath, running his hand through his hair. It was hard having someone who looked like his lost friend be so close, and yet so far.

"I'll share a secret with you, kid." Sam grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

This caught Peter's attention as he leaned onto the bar.

"There are three betas in the tower. Me, Clint and Bruce-"

"I...I like Dr. Banner." Peter mumbled.

"What?" Sam asked, unsure he had heard right.

"I....I like Dr. Banner. He.......he had it hard in my world. Hulk is a force to be reckoned with. He can be easily enraged to the point that even the intelligence he does have can be quickly over written. When the Avengers...turned.....they held him hostage. Bruce was far to gentle in nature to side with them, so they held him captive, using Hulk against him. They'd do whatever they could to bring out Hulk, then set him loose on the city."

Sam sat in stunned silence. He could never imagine putting Bruce Banner through that kind of torment. Bruce struggled with balancing himself as both separate and part of Hulk.

"I wanted to free him. Tried several times, but it never worked. They kept him in an underground bunker beneath the tower. I only saw him once. I'm not even sure how I managed to make it that far. I've never forgotten how defeated, miserable and pained he looked inside that glass cage they kept him in."

"Glass doesn't sound like it would hold-"

"Oh, it was 'Hulk proof'." Peter hissed. "Before things went bad, Bruce and Tony created it to contain him if things got to bad and he needed somewhere safe to be until he returned back to himself."

"They used his own creation against him." Sam sighed, running his hand down his face. "Guess that explains why you didn't do anything to Bruce that day."

"I told Matt and Karen it was because he let me out. I'm telling you the truth because you live with them and need to know what they're capable of doing."

"If it makes you feel any better," Sam started. "We don't have a Hulk room or cage or anything."

Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Serious!" Sam defended. "Bruce comes and goes just like the rest of us. He pretty much stays at the tower though. We don't have many instances where the Hulk is needed, but Bruce's medical training comes in handy a lot. Even stepped up a notch when you showed up." Sam snickered.

"Are you.....enjoying me hurting them?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Immensely. Clint and I, don't tell him I agree with him, think it's amazing."

Peter didn't stop the upturn of his lip at Sam's grin.

"Omega's don't typically kick their alpha's asses on the regular. I mean, I've heard of those mutant omegas at Xavier's going out and fighting, but I've never seen them do it in person. You, on the other hand, I have watched fling every alpha on the team around like rag dolls. It's humbling really."

Sam's laughter filled the small space between him and Peter.

"Well, I do have a history of fighting the hierarchy." Peter smiled.

"Tell you what," Sam said, holding out his hand. "Let's start fresh. No alternate identities. Just two guys meeting at a bar. I'm Sam Wilson."

Peter looked at the outstretched hand and up at Sam's face. His spider-sense remained, as it had the entire time, silent. Slowly, Peter took the outstretched hand.

"Peter Jones."

Sam raised and eyebrow.

"Doesn't surprise me." Peter rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd all know my real name."

"Why change it?"

"Because a version of me existed here at one time." Peter replied, looking away. "I can't be Peter Parker when he's dead."

"I guess not one that looks just like him." Sam nodded. "I'm guessing there's also family then?"

"Yeah." Peter replied, not willing to say more.

"Alright then, Peter Jones, it was nice to meet you. I better be getting back home though." Sam smiled, standing up and taking his jacket off the back of the chair.

"You'll cover that for me, right?"

Peter looked down where Sam nodded at the empty glass.

"No way Wilson."

"To think, I wanted to be nice to you." Sam said, pulling some bills out of his pocket.

"There's no such thing as free alcohol, man." Peter grinned.

"Then what's the point of being friends with the bartender?"

"The fabulous company?"

"I know that's what you get, I'm still trying to figure out what I'm getting." Sam smirked.

"I'll tell you what, this time." Peter's grinned turned wicked. "You'll get to keep a place you can go where the other Avengers can never bother you. I'll personally see to their exits if they ever show up."

Sam barked out a laugh as he straightened out his jacket.

"Well, if they ever show up, it won't be because of me. With that said, I appreciate your willingness to uphold the sanctity of my sacred drinking hole."

The two nodded at each other as Sam walked out the door, followed shortly after by the last of Luke's customers.

"You ok?" Luke asked as he restocked the bar while Peter swept.

"Surprisingly, yeah. Dealing with just Sam was way different than the others."

"Well, being a beta probably helps." Luke shrugged, not wanting to verbally address the other issues.

"Maybe." Peter nodded.

"You worried you'll have more 'customers'?" Luke asked after a moment. "I can't exactly say I can ban the Avengers..."

"No." Peter said, looking up at Luke. "I'm actually not."

Luke stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"You do realize-"

"I don't think he'll tell. Not them anyway. Maybe Barton and Dr. Banner, but not them."

"Well, I heard about Banner, but what about Barton. What's the feelings on him?"

Peter stopped sweeping, letting his thoughts gather themselves.

"He was just as ruthless as the others in my world. Tony made him explosive arrows. He caused so much damage with those. Lots of innocent people lost their homes and their lives. I don't trust him any more than the others."

Peter's face turned stony as he thought about the archer.

"He shot me in the back once. Went right through my right side."

"He did what?" Luke growled, walking from behind the bar and over to Peter.

"Yeah, right here." Peter said, lifting his shirt and tracing the scar on the side of his stomach, then moving to the part on his back.

Luke looked at the two scars, not missing a few others as well.

"Jesus, kid."

"I keep trying to tell you all. The Avengers can't be trusted this blindly! They could turn at any moment, and you could end up with the same scars as me......or worse."

Luke frowned as he watched Peter try to keep his breathing calm. He wasn't sure Peter having contact with Sam was a good idea anymore. It didn't matter what intentions the man had, being around him definitely opened Peter up to chances of having to see the other members of the team.

"I worry though, that I'm letting positive memories of Sam cloud my judgement here." Peter sighed. "I'm worried desperation for that connection is taking over."

"You can always keep to meeting here. You never have to meet him anywhere you don't want to." Luke shrugged. "I know you're tired of hearing it kid, so I'll save a lot of it."

Peter frowned, unsure of exactly what Luke was going to say.

"I don't have a problem with the Avengers, but I'm also not you. I don't have your past, so my opinion means nothing. Sam though, Sam's not an alpha. He's a beta with no romantic interest in you. I don't think it would be a big deal to consider the option of some form of friendship with him. Shit on the others if you don't want to."

Peter didn't know what to say. He was genuinely worried as to what accepting Sam's offer might lead to. The worst scenarios running through the forefront of his mind. Still, the possible benefits kept pushing their way in.

"I'll think about it.

[ren1327]

Sweater Weather Ch.8

Hi guys!

So exciting news. Sweater Weather is almost complete at this point to where I will try to post the latest chapters Wednesdays and Sundays. I'm really jazzed that I'm going to wrap this project up and excited to get started on new ones.

As always, thanks for being so patient and I cant wait to bring you guys more content this autumn season!

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

Ben woke up with Kenji’s face in his stomach, his body folded over him as he rest on a pillow laid over the larger man’s back.

The sun was just peeking through the trees and he heard a whine, Bumpy scratching at the front door.

“Kenji.” Ben called.

Kenji groaned.

“Kenji, Bumpy needs to go for a walk.” Ben said.

“No…”

“Kenji, we slept in the living room, come on.”

“I got her, Ben!” Carmen said and walked in the room, dressed in a cute set of rainbow snow boots and a matching jacket. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. You guys should take a power nap on the bed to straighten out your spines.”

“Thank you, Carmen.” Kenji said, voice muffled in Ben’s sternum.

Ben chuckled and pet the back of his head before lightly smacking it. “Come on.”

Kenji slapped his thigh back a little too hard.

“Ow! That hurt!” Ben huffed.

“I can kiss it better.” Kenji hummed.

“…you can reach more in bed.” Ben murmured and Kenji slid back and sat up.

“I’m up.” Kenji said and Ben laughed, pushing him back so he could hobble to their bedroom, pulling back the quilts and comforters and sliding in, Kenji not wasting a moment joining him.

Ben blushed and pulled him close, kissing his forehead as the larger man sighed softly. Kenji snuggled into the smaller man’s chest and Ben hugged him best he could.

“This is nice.” Kenji hummed and Ben chuckled.

“Yeah.”

He closed his eyes and for a moment, imagined dry grassland or manicured shrubbery around buildings in San Antonio.

He would wake up like this every morning. Maybe with Kenji curled around him, he curled around Kenji, back to back or to one of Kenji’s rare starfish moments. Ben would most likely wake up first and get coffee going, then whine for Kenji to cook something. They’d eat together, go to work, maybe shower or go grocery shopping together, Bumpy next to them on her leash.

Domestic and happy.

He didn’t think it was possible.

Some part of him felt he didn’t deserve it.

And a smaller part of him wanted to grab and hold on to the image of he and Kenji walking hand and hand into a building where people were laughing and hanging out, waving good morning to them and a wall of smiling families who they had helped near the door.

He felt Kenji’s breathing deepen and felt him relax into sleep, his fingers massaging his scalp through the black locks.

…could they get married and start a family too?

He blushed and hugged Kenji closer.

With both hands, he held on to the image tight.

He could be happy.

*

Ben woke to the smell of French toast, bacon and hazelnut coffee.

He blinked awake, noticing a large pillow in his arms instead of the firstborn Kon heir.

“Morning, Sleepybutt.” Kenji said as he walked in with a tray.

“Afternoon.” Ben said, glancing at the clock.

“Not noon yet.” Kenji said, holding the plate out. “And bacon is an all-day thing.”

“This is turkey bacon.” Ben said.

“Cause too much grease gives you heart burn.” Kenji said. “I listened to you complain on the phone with Sammy the other night.”

“I love you.” Ben sighed and took the plate, then froze.

Kenji was blushing and staring at him.

“I-I mean…”

“Yeah!” Kenji shouted. “I get it. Um, I forgot…cream! For the coffee!”

Kenji quickly escaped the room, leaving Ben to blush down at the food, hoping things couldn’t get more awkward.

*

Things got more awkward.

Ben and Kenji were walking to the lighthouse, hands brushing, but not touching after a tense brunch.

Carmen once again kept Bumpy close, Kenji asking Ben if he wanted to explore the old light house.

Trudging up the gravel path, they made it to the tall structure, Kenji opening the door for Ben.

“I thought this needs a lighthouse keeper.” Ben said.

“Owen checks on it every other night, but it’s fully on a timer and the diagnostics are sent to us if anything looks suspicious.” Kenji said.

“So…your lighthouse is on a timer?”

“Pretty much.” Kenji said. “Buuuut…”

He pulled Ben close and smiled.

“More privacy.” Kenji said and kissed Ben’s cold nose.

Ben scoffed and pushed him away, then started up the stairs, Kenji right behind him as they both raced to the top, Kenji winning with his longer legs. The smaller man panted and Kenji opened the door, the very breath leaving Ben as he walked out and saw over the lake.

“Oh…” He whispered and stared out over the water and snow.

Kenji came up behind him, hugging him around the waist. “What a view.”

Ben nodded.

They stood in silence for a moment, Kenji laying his cheek on the top of Ben’s head.

“You’d leave this for San Antonio?”

“I’d leave it for you and we’d visit together.”

“Kenji…” Ben turned. “I don’t want to be your reason for doing things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not Brooklynn.”

Kenji gasped softly. “I…I won’t lie, I swear!”

“And you will improve yourself for yourself too.” Ben said. “Not go along with whatever I say so we avoid conflicts. Real couples fight, Kenji.”

“I…What if we fight too much or I mess up, or we never figure it out?”

“Look at us now, Kenji.” Ben said, taking his hands. “Look how much we’ve figured out already.”

The shorter man closed his eyes.

“We don’t love each other, maybe we won’t really, or maybe…maybe we’ll be happy together forever.” Ben said. “But don’t treat me as all or nothing just yet. Don’t use me as a prop. When we go to the ball, just be my boyfriend and nothing else.”

“So…real boyfriend instead of fake boyfriend?”

Ben leaned forward and kissed his nose. “Exactly that.”

Kenji chuckled and pulled Ben close.

“Hey!”

They both looked down to see Owen and Carmen at the bottom of the lighthouse, looking up at the two.

“We’re leaving tonight!” Owen yelled. “So get packing!”

Kenji sighed and rested his forehead on Ben’s.

“Rain check?”

“Yeah.” Ben said and they waved down before going to the stairs.

*

Ben smiled as they were loaded into a van, Carmen sitting in the back with Bumpy as Ben and Kenji took the middle seats, holding hands and snuggled up together as Owen drove them to Seattle from the large boathouse they had docked the yacht in.

“So, how’s everything?” The bodyguard/assistant asked.

“Great.” Kenji said, leaning his head on Ben’s.

“They finally got together.” Carmen called.

“What?!” Kenji yelled. “You knew too?!”

“I’m your on-site bodyguard for a reason, kid.” Owen said with a smile.

Ben chuckled and looked up at Kenji. The taller man sighed and settled back into their cuddle, Bumpy jumping over the seats to lay in Ben’s lap as Carmen put on her headphones and started playing her switch.

“Hey.” He said softly and Ben looked up, eyes hooded with content.

“Hey.”

“Wanna go for a walk after dinner?” Kenji asked.

“Dinner with your parents?” Ben asked with a smile.

“The restaurant is in the hotel. We can go out for an hour or two with Bumpy to a café or the Space Needle or the Great Wheel…”

“I think it might be a little too late for all that. But maybe a café after I tell your parents I want to extend my stay?” Ben asked.

Kenji grinned and hugged Ben close.

“Aw.” Owen cooed and Kenji kicked the back of his seat.

*

Ben and Kenji were placed in a room together, Bumpy having a plush pet bed next to theirs.

Kenji was laying on his back as Ben changed from his dinner clothes into something more casual.

Dinner had been amazing, Kosei and Candy looking well rested despite the constant planning and rechecking of the ball’s supplies and preparation.

“Ben.” Candy had said over dessert. “You, Carmen and I should go shopping tomorrow morning.”

“Mom…” Kenji whined.

“Oh, right. I forgot Ben probably will want to go back…” She murmured.

“Actually.” Ben said. “Carmen was telling me about New Years and…”

He blushed, Kenji smirking and taking his hand.

“We were wondering if we could stay past New Years.” Kenji finished.

“Of course!” Kosei said with a wide smile, surprising his family and Ben from his outburst.

Candy clapped her hands.

“The we are definitely doing that shopping trip!” She said. “Sorry, Baby.”

“It’s cool.” Kenji said. “Bumpy and I will just hang out with Dad.”

Kosei nodded.

Dinner went on, and now they were going to go on their walk, Bumpy zooming around in circles in her little green vest and booties.

“Ready?” He asked Kenji.

Kenji lifted his legs and swung them down, using the momentum to stand, doing a little jump.

“Yeah.” He said and pocketed their room key.

He took Ben’s hand, who lifted Bumpy in his other hand, her leash around his wrist.

“Let’s go.” He said.

Kenji led his boyfriend to the elevator, then down to the lobby where they were greeted by a few front desk employees and the doorman.

Ben put Bumpy down, who immediately sniffed at the plant beds and started tugging Ben along.

Kenji laughed and wrapped an arm around Ben’s waist as they walked.

“It’s so bright!” Ben said with a smile, looking at the lights and neon.

“Is it what you thought it would be?” Kenji asked. “Or better?”

Ben smiled at Kenji. “Way better.”

They sat on a bench, an awning keeping snow off it as Bumpy sniffed around and they stared at the lights. Kenji took Ben’s hand.

“Ben, would your Mom…Would she have liked me?”

Ben blinked and thought. “I think she would have.”

“What was she like?”

“Never mad. Like I never saw her mad. I saw her frustrated and stressed but she never snapped at me.” He said. “She had long dirty blond hair and it wasn’t soft, but it always smelled good. When she cut it, I kind of missed watching her brush it. But she said her arms felt heavy all the time and I would do it for her. I remember she would hum or sing every time she cooked. She made a baked potato soup that would warm you from the inside out. Dave can make it close but…There was something about hers.”

Ben sniffed and smiled.

“Everything she touched seemed so much better. It was like she only knew how to be nice and positive. Like your mom actually. I bet they would have been best friends. I bet maybe your mom’s food would have made her stronger. Carmen would be another baby and she would love Bumpy and…who am I kidding, Kenji, she would love you just for being my friend, let alone boyfriend.”

Kenji hugged Ben close.

“She sounds amazing.” He said and Ben sniffed.

“I miss her so much. I never…I never really…”

“My Mom and Carmen celebrate this holiday in October. Um, it’s a couple days to remember those who moved on. We have an altar at our main house. Could I uh…even if we don’t stay together…could I add her picture? So we remember her?”

“You’d do that?” Ben asked. “To remember a woman you never met?”

“No. I think I’ve met her.” Kenji said and cupped Ben’s cheek. “She sounds a bit like you.”

Ben chucked wetly and smiled, kissing Kenji softly. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being you. I like you, Kenji Kon.” Ben said, getting up and holding out his hand.

Kenji smiled and took it.

“I like you too, Ben Pincus.”

He checked Bumpy and they started off again, hand in hand.

“So this café a favorite of yours?” Ben asked when he saw the shop at the edge of a plaza full of people talking and drinking coffee as a band played jazz in a covered outdoor stage in the middle.

“You know I—”

“Kenji?” A voice called and Ben felt his boyfriend freeze beside him as he looked towards their left.

A slender woman with pink hair and green eyes stood there with an older couple.

“Go on, I’ll just be a minute.” She told them and both men nodded and walked ahead towards the hotel, hand in hand.

Kenji gulped as one openly glared at him as they passed.

“Hi.” He said to her, Ben realizing who the girl was.

“Hi, Kenji.” She said, raising her chin. “Been a while.”

“How have you been, Brooklynn?”

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Please tell us about the cinema, I beg you

Oh boy...that accursed night. If you think fanfic plots are chaotic, just wait for this story.

Story under the cut:

So, I just got this job at my small town’s local theatre. I genuinely enjoyed it, and was quite content with the way things were going—fun shifts, cool coworkers, and a nice boss. So I thought.

I was only two weeks in when the “incident” occurred.

At the theatre, we had to collect a walkie talkie radio at the start of every shift, and sign it in and out with a piece of paper in the office.

It was a little clunky and annoying when cleaning cinemas with vacuums, but nothing to cry over.

One night, I’m put to work with a new supervisor I hadn’t met before and some new coworkers (they’d all been there a while, but this was my first shift with them).

For a little context, I’m 19, and most of the other employees were like 15-17. So, I was basically being bossed around by pretentious, power-tripping kids. Fun.

King Kong vs Godzilla had just been released, so of course, the theatre was packed that night — 130 people per room.

Now, we usually have 20-30 minute intervals between sessions to clean the cinemas, but with the release of a new movie, it was cut down in half, sometimes less.

I was cleaning the most popular cinema that night, and was first told to take my time, as it needed to be spotless. Also, side note, can people please not throw popcorn everywhere? It’s a pain to clean. Then again, I don’t work there anymore nor ever will, so do what you want, I suppose.

My little coworker told me to take my radio off my belt and put it aside to get a good vacuum going through each aisle, as it apparently made it easier, as the cord would sometimes get wrapped around the radio stem.

Fair enough.

I did so, and left it on the wooden platform of the rows to begin vacuuming. He leaves and I get to work.

However, he comes rushing back a few minutes later and says, “what the hell are you still cleaning for?? We’ve got a hundred people waiting outside???”

I’m over it™️ at this point because I only took this job to see the behind the scenes of how a cinema works. I shrug and go, “okay”

I pack the vacuum up and try to leave hastily, as he’s being very antsy and pushy.

He gets frustrated and grabs the rest of my cleaning crap to leave, and tells me to hurry up behind him.

My hands are full and I can’t grab the radio, so I say, “what about the walkie talkie?”

I swear I hear him say, “leave it, there’s no time!”

I shrug and think it’s weird, but trust him to know better.

However, once I dump my crap and prepare to leave, as a hundred people are pushing in behind me, my intuition tells me to grab the walkie talkie.

I rush back in to where I left it, and find it missing

I have a brief moment of “oh shit”

However, I think to myself, “it’s okay, you only took this job for shits and giggles. If they fire you, you have your other job anyways. What’s the worst that can happen?”

If only I knew.

An hour goes by into my shift, and I’m cleaning another cinema with the same coworker. I’ve kind of shoved the walkie talkie thing to the back of my mind, because I was doing a closing shift that night and could probably get away with not facing my manager about the sign out sheet.

However, at one point the boy goes, “where’s your radio??”

Sheepishly, I say, “uh...I left it in cinema 3, like you told me to?”

He sort of pales and I think this little skinny high schooler is about to pass out.

He starts yelling at me and tells me that I need to get my flashlight and start checking every single row in there.

I go, “fuck no, the movie is still going? You want me to flash a torch in the peoples’ faces during King Kong?? The one cinema hosting the entirety of the sweaty balls side of reddit right now???”

He gets very shitty and says, “I’ll do it myself, wait here.”

By now I know I’m in the shit, but shrug and remember I can always escape through the vents if need be.

Now, there was this really fucking annoying 15 year old boy I was working with that night, who’s the definition of the “well aCtUaLlY” guy irl

He comes sprinting into the theatre I was cleaning, and starts literally interrogating me over this walkie talkie. Like, he thinks he’s the “bad cop” or some shit. Other coworkers closer to my age had already warned me about him before I even met him.

The other boy I was working with apparently couldn’t find it, and just didn’t want to deal with the consequences that night so much, that he called his mum to come pick him up early.

Weakling child.

It was at this point that I quietly arrived at the conclusion of “they think I stole it”

I didn’t understand why, it’s a fucking walkie talkie? What’s the big deal? Go get a Dora the Explorer one to replace it from Target??

I let my inner Mickey Milkovich come out, and play cool.

Him: you fucking stole it

Me:

This 15 year old Ben Shapiro-looking fucker starts grilling me, and literally places me under theatre arrest. I wasn’t allowed to leave the room I was cleaning, in other words.

He gets uncomfortably close—just me and this weird boy in this dark theatre—and goes, “I want you to be brutally honest with me...did you take the walkie talkie? I won’t tell the manager that you did.”

If you guys know me well enough from my blog, then you know this boy suffered a great deal of aggressive sarcasm in response.

He gets pissed (brown-noser), and tells me to continue cleaning, as he leaves the theatre.

Only ten minutes go by until he comes back, but this time with “good cop”.

I roll my eyes, and turn the vacuum off.

They stand at the bottom of the cinema blocking my entrance with their arms folded, and start interrogating me about stealing it.

I give them some more Mickey Milkovich sarcasm, as I had already explained to them a hundred times what happened.

They involve the manager (snitches) and now I’m really in trouble.

They force me to go into the cinema whilst the movie is still playing to look for it. Begrudgingly grabbing my flashlight, and preparing for rightfully angry people as I search their crotches in the middle of a highly anticipated movie, I head inside theatre 3.

Fuck doing that though, I watch the movie instead with the people and eat some popcorn.

Figuring a reasonable amount of time to search had gone by, I sadly leave the cool laser battle scene, and head back out.

Me: “I searched and couldn’t find it.”

Power-complex 15 year old with a punchable Ben Shapiro face: “Did you look everywhere in the cinema??”

Me: “Yeah, I shoved a flashlight up seat 33’s asshole and checked it myself.”

Some more pissy exchanges take place, and I’m told to go clean another cinema.

I’m having fun at this point, because I’ve worked enough jobs to know this situation was being dealt with incredibly immaturely by the other staff.

Regarding accidents like these in the workplace, and given how big the cinema chain is, they should know insurance covers a simple walkie talkie, and that assuming the new employee stole something which is misplaced is a bad way to integrate them into your company. It’s simply a bad look for your business.

I’m cleaning another cinema when all three come in, and tell me they’re going to put cinema 3 on lockdown when the movie ends, and check everyone’s bags.

I’m amused at this point, so I really just go “damn bro that’s wild”

They do exactly that, and it’s as awkward as you can imagine.

People are angry and annoyed—all 130 of them at 9:30pm huddled in a group, having their bags searched for a damn walkie talkie.

After discovering no one had actually stolen it, like I said, they start interrogating me again.

“Are you sure it was cinema 3??? Is your memory perhaps failing you???”

“If I say yes, will I go home sooner?” (my shift ended 15 minutes ago, and I wasn’t allowed to leave)

Naturally, I stayed another 40 minutes, and had to search the entire building. I’m talking arcade, toilets, offices—everywhere.

It is eventually deemed completely lost, and I basically end the night saying, “well, I ain’t about to strip nude for you all for a full body search, and although I’ve never had such a fun shift anywhere else, I’m not a fan of work environments that promote skepticism and cohort-wide distrust. I ain’t coming in next week, or the week after that, or the...well, I think you get the point.”

I leave my badge behind, and basically book it out of the cinema an hour after my shift was supposed to end. I worked illegally longer than I was supposed to, and wasn’t given the legal shift break.

I received text messages and emails from the head office shortly after, asking if I was coming back, and ignored them for a little while, as although I can handle irl confrontation, virtual ones spook me?

Anywho, the walkie talkie actually costs $1000, but as mentioned before, I, an adult, recognise insurance covers these sorts of things, especially in companies as big as these.

So, moral of the story, don’t leave 15 year olds in charge of adults, because most of the time, they’re too young to realise what insurance policies are :)

[lehdenlaulu]

Shadow and Bone: a few gripes

Okay, you know I was pretty impressed with Shadow and Bone, but it would be neither fair nor in character from me to leave you with an impression that I thought there was nothing to improve. So here we go:

First of all, the pacing. Again, I am actually impressed with how well it did hold together for an adaptation of a mashup of two separate books in only eight episodes, but I think we can all agree that it definitely could have used at least an episode of two more to let the scenes and story beats breathe and have time for slightly more organic development. It must not have been an easy task to edit, and unfortunately, the seams are kinda visible at times. There absolutely were things that IMO required more time and attention to set up properly, especially from a non-reader’s point of view, one major thing being... well, the entire setting really, namely the war and politics aspects. For example, I’m still kind of foggy on who originally is fighting who and why and for how long and who exactly performed the coup and in whose name etc. etc. Now I know this is based on an YA book and those don’t tend to dig very deep into the finer points of the realities of military politics, but... it would be nice to understand why are these things even happening, you know?

This is inevitably related to the previous issue, but I also wasn’t always sure if I always bought what the show was trying to sell to me, emotionally, or sometimes even what it was trying to sell me, exactly. I have three specific examples, all with slightly different issues: - Mal and Alina. Too much iron wire, as we say in Finland. Flashbacks and voice overs (letters, diaries, etc.) are, in a cinematic sense, tools of telling instead of showing and should therefore be used with care and caution. Especially in regards to a relationship between characters. And here we had both, repeatedly. And whether that was the idea or not, that sort of tends to come across like you don’t trust a) your audience b) your actors c) the relationship. And none of that is a good thing. So while this is probably not going to endear me to that particular shipper demographic, a couple of those meadow flashbacks less would have sufficed with the time given to developing other storylines etc. You want to lead your audience to something and let them figure it out themselves, not spoon feed it to them. They cute. Trust that. (I mean, if I, a total newbie to the setting, figured out Jesper was a grisha by the second episode and am totally rooting for Genya and David based on like two tiny off-hand scenes... You know?) - This issue is sort of the opposite: Kaz and Inej. I mean, I got that it was supposed to be there, I just wasn’t feeling it. And I don’t know if the issue is the chemistry, the pacing, the writing, the acting or what. But something didn’t connect. Again, I haven’t read the books and from what I’ve gathered that particular dynamic is probably not something that is easy to adapt to screen -- especially with 2 billion different other things going on at a breakneck speed -- but I hope I’ll get more out of Kaz’s character in general next season because he’s the one I feel like I know the least so far. - Kirigan/Morozova/The Darkling/whatever His Murkiness wants to be called in this adaptation. And my issue? I was never sure how I was supposed to feel about him. Now, that might very well be the idea for all I know, but I was honestly kinda left scratching my head about him. I mean, due to the Tumblr osmosis I had some idea what to expect, so my initial reaction was pretty much: “huh, I’d thought he’d be worse”. I’d expected him to like... stalk around like a storm cloud with a literal cloak of shadows billowing in his wake at all times, and be much more of a manipulative/pushy creep with Alina from the start. Instead he just... seemed kinda normal? A bit of a Chessmaster, yeah, but absolutely nothing that wasn’t entirely to be expected from someone in his position. I tried to gauge the appropriate attitude towards him from how other characters treated him, personally and by reputation, like... is he supposed to be a scary badass? Just scary? Just badass? Neither?? Like, he’s the leader of a wizard army and has spooky and unusual powers? He kinda should be a little scary? I mean, I know Ben Barnes (who can easily be considerably more intimidating if he wants to be) wanted to humanize him and they decided to use “The Darkling” as an insult rather than a title, but... When even the grisha-fearing Fjerdans were less “Oh shit, it’s The Darkling, he eats babies for breakfast!” and more “Ugh, it’s that bitch.”... Let’s just say him switching gears to full-on mustache-twirling Disney villain felt pretty jarring, honestly. Especially since, again, I’m still fairly confused about his motivations and goals because the entire backstory to that whole thing was kinda glossed over. So he wants... what? Grisha supremacy via magical weapons of mass destruction? Because he has mommy issues? Because someone killed his girlfriend a couple of centuries ago?? And was that the plan all along or did he just decide to go balls-to-the-wall bonkers when Alina left him? Because right now his goal seems to be more like ‘death to all who oppose me’. And that’s... pretty boring, honestly. If he’s to be our Big Bad, I’d like a bit more nuance -- and that’s not to rag on Ben’s performance or even his choices to play the the character as cutely smitten with Alina, but the way the character is otherwise presented. Once again, I know this is fairytale-ish YA fantasy, but if your source material has a typical garden variety super polarized love triangle (of sorts, anyway), your job is to make it more interesting in adaptation. So while I do commend the fact that they apparently made both of the guys less of douchebags, I feel like the tone should have been adjusted accordingly in other aspects. If that makes sense.

I think that was it, for the most part. I mean I could bitch about technical details or wildly inconsistent pronunciation of names or whatever, but those would just be nitpicking. Tagging at least @the-darkling but everyone please feel free to discuss!

[cakesunflower]

Who’s Gonna Love You Like Me? [Brother’s Best Friend!Calum AU] Part 1

A/N: the title is STUPID long. like a whole ass mouthful. but it is what it is. before y’all dive in, i just wanna say that this fic would NOT be possible without @bigheadbabybitch (it’s not letting me tag her bc tumblr is a whore) but god DAMN without her, this fic would not be what it is. every scene is planned with her and made better with her. i’m very lucky to be working with this on her.

Josie’s Face Claim here!

so, without further ado, here’s part 1 of my new brother’s best friend!Cal fic!!

She never experienced feeling the weight of someone’s eyes on her until this moment.

It wasn’t like Josie didn’t want to return his gaze—she just couldn’t, not if she wanted to freeze where she stood. She could feel his intense gaze on her the moment he had walked into her older brother’s house. What she had expected to be a celebration turned into an internal prison as she found herself contemplating what exactly he was thinking about. The way he had been looking at her. . . She didn’t think either of them knew just how much power he held over her. So Josie pretended to be oblivious, acted as though his stare wasn’t burning right through her skin as she talked to friends of her brother’s she was only vaguely familiar with. She had a good excuse, too; after all, Luke had thrown this party to welcome her to California, had been a good older—by three years—brother and opened his home to her so she had a place to stay right after graduating college while looking for one of her own. And nothing said welcome like a good house party. At least, according to Luke Hemmings, anyway.

A soft smile played on her lips as she nursed her drink, thinking of her brother’s welcoming arms. The warm welcome she received was one that calmed her nerves, at first feeling like she was intruding when she moved into Luke’s home, despite his encouragement. Her brother wanted her to move in with him, and yet there was still a small part of Josie that had felt as though she was encroaching on his space. But it came with the territory of being labeled as the little sister among the inseparable group of her brother and his best friends, always feeling as though she was pushing herself into their friend group, even if her company was welcomed.

Eventually, she finished her drink and was in need of more, excusing herself from the group she was chatting with before making her way to the kitchen. Luke’s house was one she loved, proud of her brother for doing so well for himself, starting off as an accountant by using the math skills their mom instilled in them before rising to the top. High ceilings and lots of windows with a view of the trees and hills of the Valley, and an open space that was so much better than the cramped dorm room she’d been living in for too long. Her brother’s spacious home was definitely an upgrade. Josie knew she’d enjoy living in a space where she wouldn’t have to stack her belongings on top of one another, now having room to spread out comfortably.

Too busy admiring her new—albeit temporary—home and pouring herself another drink, Josie had become unaware of who she’d moved towards until the familiar voice spoke up nonchalantly, “You look like you’re fittin’ right in.”

Josie put down the bottle of Coke, biting the inside of her lower lip as she raised her head to finally meet the gaze she had been avoiding. His voice was unmistakable, eyes sharp as always as she schooled her expression into one of ease right when she looked at him. She went from chewing on her lower lip to biting the tip of her tongue to focus on the sting rather than the quickening of her heart. Her skin felt warm, frustration flushing her for not being able to slow her heart rate. Still, Josie offered a smile, the perfect combination of friendly and smug even if the latter felt incredibly made up. “’Course—it helps that I’m really likable.”

Calum sucked in his teeth, giving a brief, semi-accepting tilt of his head. One hand shoved into the pocket of his leather jacket, he was gave her a once over before responding, “Depends on who you ask.” His words were followed by a sip of his beer, but Josie could make out the smirking curl of his lips from around the mouth of the bottle.

Despite the bass of the music thrumming deep in her chest, and the nerves she wished would subside because it was ridiculous to even feel so, Josie offered a smile and rested her hip against the counter she was near. She faced him as he stood a few feet away, left arm braced on the counter as the chain bracelet glimmered against the hanging light above the center counter. He looked good, Josie wasn’t afraid to admit that. To herself, anyway.

With a single shouldered shrug, Josie smiled knowingly and raised an eyebrow at Calum. “I’m asking you.” A risk, those words falling past her lips, but she couldn’t take them back. Nor the implication behind them. But Josie was trying to learn not to be regretful of things, standing by decisions she made. 

There was a subtle shift in his features, lips parting to lick his lower lip. Calum looked almost impressed, if not a bit startled, at Josie’s words, and she didn’t quite blame him. She watched something flash in his dark eyes, eyebrows lowering as a bit of a warning, silently telling her she was wandering into territory she shouldn’t be. Not that she had to be told that. The hitch in her throat was a sign enough.

Before Calum could respond, however, a sudden weight of an arm settled around Josie’s shoulders, a soft yet startled gasp escaping her as her six-foot-four brother playfully hung off her shorter frame. “Do you love your party or what?”

Josie tore her gaze away from the dark haired man across from her to grin up at her brother, whom she could tell was already well on his way to getting drunk. His cheeks were flushed, pushed up to show off his dimpled grin, eyes glazing over. A chuckle equal parts forced and amused escaped Josie, his presence tightening the knots in her stomach, as she wrapped her free arm around his waist. “Of course,” she answered. “I’m feeling all the love.”

Luke grinned, clearly satisfied with her answer. “Good,” he declared, wrapping his other arm around her as well, keeping her close. Josie could feel Calum’s eyes on them but she didn’t look back at him, letting her brother hug her as he continued, “You were too far away at Davis. ’m glad you’re here now.”

His words widened Josie’s smile, a happy warmth flushing her skin. Despite sometimes inserting herself in Luke’s friend group when they were kids, her brother never made her feel as though she was just tagging along or that she wasn’t welcomed to join. Being so close in age, Luke was Josie’s first best friend—honestly, he had a higher friendship role than any best friend she’s had—and she was easily closer to him than she was to her other two older brothers, Jack and Ben. Don’t get it wrong, Josie loved all of her brothers. But if she had to pick a favorite, it would be Luke.

Which was why Calum’s gaze on them felt so heavy, like it was weighing her down, slowly squeezing the air out of her lungs. Luke’s hug felt warm for all of the wrong reasons as Calum watched them, and Josie forced herself to look up, for her blue eyed gaze to meet his brown. His stare was intense as ever, looking right through her, and despite the neutrality of his features, Josie picked up on the look in his eye. She saw the reluctance that swam in them, a hint of panic he was doing a good job in hiding from those who wouldn’t expect to see it there. But Josie knew; she knew to look for it, knew it was probably present because she could feel it knotting her insides, too.

It was a kind of emptiness in her chest that allowed for the bass of the music playing in the house to settle too deeply, wondering if Calum felt it too as he tore his gaze away from them and took a long sip of his drink. Did he feel guilt, too? 

She hoped he didn’t regret it because she sure as hell didn’t. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t any room for the guilt to take up residence. Not when her brother was holding her so tightly, so happily, rambling on about how excited he was for her to be living with him. Oblivious to the tension his presence only intensified between his best friend and sister.

“It’ll be just like old times, right, Cal?” Luke’s voice pulled Josie out of her thoughts, swallowing the lump in her throat as Calum looked at them once more. The song playing through the speakers changed to an unfamiliar R&B type that Josie thought was more Calum’s style than her brother’s. 

A wry expression briefly twisted Calum’s features, a subtle quirk of his eyebrows and purse of his lips as his eyes met hers quickly. A silent scoff of yeah, right being spoken by him just through his features to her as Josie bit the inside of her cheek, her smile disappearing.

“Yeah,” Calum responded, his voice sounding too deep, heavy with the thoughts swirling in his head. Josie figured she had an idea what was running through his mind. He took another sip of his drink, brown eyes on blue, her own gaze following the way his tongue swiped across his lower lip, hating that she couldn’t pull her gaze away. All too aware that he was watching her track his movements, a hardship she would have to learn to get past. His eyes never left hers as he raised his cup, a silent cheers, as he repeated, “Just like old times.”

*****

The sun was bright. Then again, this was California, and the sun was always bright. Especially as June began and the sun remained high and relentless. It felt warm against Calum’s skin, which he’d eventually cool down by taking advantage of the tempting pool in front of him. And he wanted to jump in already, except he remained planted on the poolside chair, refusing to submerge himself in the cold water because of the woman already enjoying it. So he stayed put, feeling the heat burn his legs and the thin layer of sweat that clung to his skin, depriving himself of the welcoming water because he needed to keep his distance.

Music was playing through Luke’s backyard, but Calum couldn’t tell what song was playing, attention muffled by his focus being on Josie. Or, specifically, it was on trying not to be on the woman. Sipping his beer, Calum blinked behind his sunglasses, trying to anchor himself to the conversation happening around him by trying to get a grasp on reality. It was just him, the boys, and Josie—how it used to be at times when they were younger. Except there was nothing adolescent in the way his gaze lingered on Josie from behind the shades of his glasses. Yet he tried to listen to the song, foot tapping as his mind slowly picked up on the beat. Anything to try and get a solid grasp on his surroundings to pull out of his jumbled thoughts.

“The salon’s nice, then?” Ashton questioned, popped up from the middle of a hideous duck float, arms crossed on top as he looked at Josie.

She was laying on her stomach on a pool float, legs kicked up and ankles crossed. “So nice,” she answered with an appreciative groan. Calum took a breath, sipping his beer again as the sound rang in his ears. “Really fucking fancy, and everyone’s so nice. And the same company owns the nail salon next door so we get discounts.” With a wide grin, she added, “Pretty nails twenty-four-seven.”

She emphasized this point by lifting one hand and wiggling her fingers to show off already painted and long nails. Calum’s eyes followed the movement from where he sat, and the sun burned his skin. He straightened his posture, trying to rid of the all too familiar stinging sensation that dragged down his back. His muscles twitched, taking a breath as he tried to rid of the feeling, the reminder of a memory that was still fresh in his mind despite the months that passed.

Calum smacked his lips after forcing down the sip of beer, looking down at the bottle he held in mild distaste. Suddenly, he felt as though he needed a drink far stronger than this. Something to wipe the images lighting up his mind. 

Michael walked out from the house, flip flops echoing on the concrete, signaling his presence as he walked down the few steps from the back door to the pool area. He settled down on the chair next to Calum. “A friend of Crystal’s booked a couple of tables for tomorrow night at the new club that opened up in West Hollywood.” His green eyes looked at the four people he was with. “You guys down to go?”

Luke waded into the water behind Josie, and Calum watched with a quirk of his eyebrows, noting the way his best friend was making it a point to be particularly quiet in his silent approach towards Josie as Ashton answered, “Yeah; I’ve got a business dinner so I’ll meet you guys there.” He munched on some chips. “Just send me the details.”

Michael nodded, looking between Calum at his right and Josie in the pool in front of them. “What about you guys?”

“Sure,” came both of their responses, Josie’s excited while Calum’s more subdued. His gaze wandered back to Josie and he didn’t miss the way her smile kind of froze on her face, rolling her lower lip into her mouth before breaking their gaze. She couldn’t seem to hold their gaze for too long, as opposed to him, who couldn’t stop looking at her, enough to notice the way her eyes dulled when she heard his hesitated answer. Look at me. The words echoed in his mind, wanting her to hear them. Look. At. Me. Why he wanted her to look at him, he had no idea. All he could think about when their eyes connected, even for a few seconds, were the overwhelming memories he had shoved into a box in his mind. But the more he looked at her, the more prominent the images in his mind became.

Calum hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation that followed, looking out to the five foot brick wall that surrounded the perimeter of Luke’s yard. The sky was clear of clouds that made the heat of the sun all the more relentless, only adding heat to the tightness of his muscles. His attention was drawn back to the scene in front of him by the sound of Josie’s scream, eyebrows raising as he watched Luke, from underwater, pushed the float Josie was on to flip it, sending his sister splashing into the water as the sight of her flailing limbs erupted laughter from everyone else.

An amused grin tilted at Calum’s lips, his own laughter mixing in with those of the boys as Josie finally surfaced with a gasp. And suddenly the laughter from Calum ceased, watching as she rose up with her head tilted back, her slender neck drawing his gaze. For a moment, he could picture it. All of it. The droplets of water covering her skin glimmered under the sun, the blue bikini she wore attracting Calum’s attention more than he’d admit, biting his tongue as Josie turned her back to him to splash at Luke in retaliation.

Calum excused himself then, muttering something about needing to use the bathroom as he headed inside the house, the sliding door at the back of the house opening right into the kitchen as he walked through to get to the downstairs bathroom in the hall. Calum found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror, cheeks flushed, hoping it was from the sun. His eyebrows lowered into a frown as he looked at his reflection, annoyance with himself spiking.

Get it together. It was all that he could say to himself as he exhaled slowly. He felt like a teenage boy, the sight of Josie in the pool stirring something in the pit of his stomach that had him sucking in a breath. What could he do? The sight had been all too familiar. 

Calum gave a shake of his head. Nope. He couldn’t do this.

He exited the bathroom, shaking his hands as if he was trying to get rid of the thoughts that clung to him, walking towards the kitchen. The sound of someone messing around in there caught his attention, distinct in the rattling of bottles, and Calum stopped when he caught sight of Josie shutting the fridge. A Mike’s Hard Lemonade was in her hand as her eyes locked on his, the fall of her sun-flushed face an obvious tell of her discomfort of being caught alone with him.

Calum could vaguely hear the boys still outside, but he was all too focused on Josie; her wet blonde hair hung around her shoulders, and he fought to keep his eyes from wandering any lower than her eyes. He didn’t want to observe the blue bikini top that complimented her eyes, grateful for the little reprieve he had with her tying a towel around her hips. Just a little reprieve. He bit the tip of his tongue, scolding himself for so easily losing his train of thought in her presence, knowing now was not the time to allow himself to fall into a silent stupor.

Licking his lips, Calum looked towards the glass door that led out back, briefly watching his friends talk amongst themselves. Their conversation was drowned out by the music playing, and Calum exhaled, not looking back at Josie as he said, “You could’ve given me a warning, you know.”

He heard the bewilderment in her voice. “A warning?” she repeated. “For what?”

“That you were movin’ here.” Calum turned his head to look at her, taking in the frown furrowing her eyebrows and tilting her lips downwards. His throat worked, keeping his eyes on her as an attempt to keep himself from watching a lone bead of water run down the column of her throat and race towards the valley of her breasts. Conjuring up the nostalgic image of her in the flannels she used to wear was proving to be difficult, his attempt of distracting himself failing. “Would’ve liked a heads up.”

Josie gaped at him, and maybe Calum wasn’t being fair to her. She didn’t really owe him anything, he knew that. But from the moment Luke had dropped the bombshell that Josie was moving in with him—the day she was driving down from Davis—Calum had found himself in a state of panic he wasn’t familiar with. One that made his stomach feel hollow and chest tighten when he thought about seeing her practically every day. 

“A heads up?” Josie scoffed, clearly finding Calum’s words as ridiculous as he felt saying them. With a tilt of her head, she raised an eyebrow and challenged, “Even if I did, what would you have done? High tailed it out of L.A.?”

Calum huffed, arms crossing over his chest, picking up on her gaze drifting to his arms briefly. He would’ve smirked if he wasn’t for the conversation at hand. His lips twisted to the side before he responded, “I would’ve at least been a bit prepared.”

“You think I was prepared?” Josie retorted, eyebrows shooting up as she stared him down. She took a step towards him, her own gaze drifting towards the back door before looking back at him. “Moving to L.A. was a last minute decision. You’re not the only one who can’t look Luke in the eye.”

He licked his lower lip, finger tapping against his bicep as he shook his head, anxiety ridden thoughts running rampant in his head. He wasn’t used to feeling so. . . Frustrated. Panicked. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like feeling as if he was trapped in a corner with no way out. “Pretty sure I have more to lose than you.”

That had been the wrong thing to say; Calum knew it as soon as the words escaped his mouth. He watched the way Josie’s eyebrows shot up and lips parted. She stared at him in disbelief, incredulous that he would try to knock down what was at stake for her in this situation by trying to emphasize his own. It was a dick move, he knew, and he was sorry for it. “Fuck you, Calum,” she frowned, her voice resigned. He hated that he could see her disappointment and hurt more than the anger. He swallowed inaudibly at the thought of bringing that look on her face; one that settled a solemnity in her features against him. “We both screwed Luke over,” she added, making her way around the center counter, taking the longer way around to avoid walking past him as she headed towards the door.

Calum’s jaw set, wanting to apologize as he watched her go, feeling badly for making it seem like his guilt was stronger than hers. Josie stopped then, right before reaching the door, and looked at him over her shoulder. The hurt was still in her eyes, and she spoke with an edge creeping into her voice. “But if you take into consideration who’s more likely to get punched if Luke were to ever find out. . .” Her blue eyes gave him a once over, expression looking almost too empty for Calum’s liking until her gaze met hers. She smiled humorlessly then, wanting to fire back to mask the hurt his words had caused her by being spiteful in hers as she finished off, “Then yeah; you’ve got more to lose.”

And then with a roll of her eyes, she turned back and slid the door open, the music clear for the brief moment the door was open until she slid it shut. Calum rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, shaking his head as he released yet another slow, long breath, finally in tune with the racing of his heart he had failed to notice earlier. So fucking screwed.

--

tags: @irwinkitten​ @loveroflrh​ @sweetcherrymike​ @astroashtonio​ @softforcal​ @highfivecalum​ @novacanecalum​ @captain-what-is-going-on​ @angelbbycal​ @singt0mecalum​ @hopelessxcynic​ @lfwallscouldtalk​ @bodhi-black​ @findingliam-o​ @softlrh​ @calumsmermaid​ @erikamarie41​ @quintodosuniversos​ @longlastingdaydream​ @babylon-corgis​ @lukehemmingsunflower​ @imfuckin10plybud​ @pastelpapermoons​ @conquerwhatliesahead92​ @rotten-kandy​ @metangi​ @neigcthood​ @ohhmuke​ @old-zeppelin-shirt​ @5sos-and-hessa​ @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @madelynerin​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @calistheloml @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @wildflowergrae​

[kittybellestark]

Back To The Beginning

This one shot literally took so long to write but I’m glad it’s finally finished. I didn’t think I’d ever get it done i stg. Basically Peter starts to remember his parents. 

TW: Panic Attack, Blood, speaking about experimentation/torture.

“Tony, I need your help!!”

It’s 11:00pm on a non-patrol night. Peter is supposed to be in his apartment, it’s not the weekend so he definitely isn’t supposed to be here at night. Tony felt the anxiety build inside of him. hearing Peter ask for help was nearly unheard of, and for him to make an appearance at the lab this late at night was only something he did when injured too badly. This was unusual.

Looking up at Peter, Tony see’s he looks relatively not injured. Though Peter’s look is a cause for concern. He’s wearing pajamas and his face is red. Peter’s still wearing slippers and it’s obvious that he doesn’t have a wallet on him, only his phone. Which means Peter walked to the tower from Queens -as his webshooters are not on his wrists- but he most likely ran, judging by his red face and the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

Tony was quick to move, getting Peter to sit down and drink water. The boys eyes were wide and frightened.

“Okay you’re going to think I’m insane because I think I’m insane but I promise this is real and I need help. Something is suspicious about May. And me. And my parents. Something is wrong Tony. I don’t think I’m unsafe but there’s something wrong here.”

“Start from the beginning kiddo. Keep your breathing easy. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is.”

Peter nodded. He looked ready to cry. He was obviously exhausted and Tony was trying to keep his cool from Peter bringing up May and how he’s suspicious of her. Peter was his kid and Tony would do anything to keep him safe.

“Right, yeah. So remember our talk last week, the one where I sorta told you I perceive you in a father figure way and then you saying you kinda think of me as a son? Well I talked to May about it because I felt guilty. Like I had a dad and an uncle who raised me and it just feels selfish and I just needed extra reassurance okay. And May was upset. And she said that it wasn’t fair to my father especially considering he died recently.” Peter paused. “My dad died when I was 6, Ben died just over a year ago and I know she didn’t get them confused.”

Tony went to talk, to reassure Peter or to comfort him but Peter kept going.

“I thought she was just confused. But then I found some pictures of when my parents were alive. And May and Ben were never there. I can find pictures of places they said I was with them and only them, but then the pictures are with my parents. So I did had Ned hack into my grandparents old medical files. Richard and Mary were both only children. Ben is not related to Richard. There’s no adoption forms or anything. So technically May and Ben aren’t my aunt and uncle right?”

“Pete-“

“No Tony, listen. There’s more. May and Ben always pushed for me to work at Oscorp right? That’s where my parents worked so it makes sense. But May had pushed it more since the spider bite which doesn’t make sense, even pushing it even though you’re a Stark and obviously I’m going to work at SI when I’m older. It doesn’t make sense. But I was thinking it’s a legacy thing. But no.

“It doesn’t make sense that I don’t remember anything before my parents died. Doctor’s said it was the trauma of my parents dying. But I was six I couldn’t have really understood that. Unless something also happened to me, which brings me to my next big woah moment. MJ has been having me meditate recently because it’s good for my mental health and whatnot. And I remember being on an airplane with my parents. There’s no evidence that I was ever on an airplane, except before I was six years old. But there’s a ticket under my name for the same day my parents died. And if I go into the airport security cameras on that day I am there. You can see me boarding the plane. So how could I live through a plane crash and not my parents. That doesn’t make sense, especially seeing as my whole life I was told I was staying with May and Ben when my parents died.

“Tony, none of this adds up. And let’s just circle back to the spider bite. That should have killed me. It would have killed any other human. To have lived through the bite I would have had to had been altered or experimented on to work genetically with the spiders they were using. That’s the only way I wouldn’t have died. Which means Oscorp knows about me being Spider-Man, which makes sense because they’ve approached me multiple times since gaining my powers to intern there, even before I met you.

“Something is really wrong, Tony. And I need help.”

Tony agreed to help Peter. Of course he did. The duo researches Mary and Richard Parker and then they research May and Ben Parker. May and Ben never existed before they took custody of Peter. Everything Peter said was backed up. There was evidence for everything.

Peter’s life no longer made sense and Tony feared for his sons safety.

“I’m not comfortable with you going home, kid. None of this adds up.”

Peter leaned forward resting against the work table nodding along to what Tony said. He wasn’t very comfortable either. How could he go home knowing his whole life has been a lie.

“I’ll stay tonight, but I have to go back. We need more proof. Maybe we can get a DNA sample from May.”

Huffing in frustration, Tony pinches the bridge of his nose feeling at a loss.

“When you go back home I’m going to give you some stuff to set up around your room. It’ll activate every time May walks in there, record what she’s doing and saying. It’ll alert me if she does anything to you. I’ll also talk to my lawyers.”

The next day Tony unwillingly brought Peter back home. With a bag full of bugs and cameras, all directly linked to FRIDAY who will tell Tony as soon as anything remotely suspicious were to happen. Peter was well aware of exactly where to put each microphone and camera and that they would only be activated with May’s presence. 

Leaving Peter alone with May, felt impossible. Tony’s chest felt tight with anxiety, worried that this would be a bad idea, that his kid would wind up hurt in the end. Peter being left to May when the facts didn’t add up. Everything was a little too off yet so well put together with their small family that it seemed like a gust of wind could bring it all toppling to the ground. 

From there is took a few hours before May got back to her apartment, then a little while later before she started talking about Peter’s future with Oscorp. At the end of the week Peter finally told Tony that he had a DNA sample from May. 

As Peter entered the lab, toothbrush in hand, Tony had everything set up, FRIDAY ready to go through every person who has ever given DNA ever to find out who May is.

“What if I was kidnapped as a child?” 

“Then the two of us figure it out. We do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Tony wraps his arms around Peter, letting the teen rest his head on Tony’s shoulder. 

“Boss, I found a match, would you two like to hear?” FRIDAY finally said after an agonizing fifteen minutes.

Tony looked towards Peter, waiting for confirmation before answering. Peter stared at Tony, mouth open clearly hesitating about what to do. After a beat Peter finally nodded, and Tony gave FRIDAY the go-ahead. 

“May Parker has a 100% DNA match to Mary Parker. I do apologize Peter, but it seems May is actually your mother.” 

Everything went silent at that for Peter. His ears were ringing and the world went all fuzzy. He blinked back tears before taking a deep breath and nodding. Tony held both of Peter’s shoulders, keeping him grounded. 

“Oh god, oh man, she lied to me. She lied a lot. She can’t be- she can’t. Tony, Tony, my whole life. She faked her death. And then got custody as me, and told me she’s my aunt. Oh no, that means Ben was probably- that I watched, Tony she said my Dad died recently, Tony I watched him get murdered. They lied to me. They lied.”

Tony pulled Peter into his arms, bringing the two of them to the ground. Peter ended up in Tony’s lap, head in the crook of his mentors shoulders. Tony started to rock the two of them, hoping to bring the sobbing boy some comfort.

~~~~~~

A week after finding out May was technically his biological mother, the nightmares set in for Peter. Well, more like repressed memories coming to him when he sleeps, but nightmares nonetheless. It was already a battle to get Tony to agree to let Peter go home, with promises that he would soon talk to May. Going to Tony about this now would only lead to Peter never going home. 

Sleeping was hard though. Memories of being moved from facility to facility with Mary and Richard strapping him down and taking needles to his skin, injecting him with things that burned, that were so hot but also so cold. Watching Richard take a scalpel to his body, seeing Mary break his bones. Having his parents shock him until he tasted blood.

It wasn’t right. Peter knew it wasn’t right. He stops other parents from doing this to their kids. And now he’s here. He know’s he went through it, the abuse. But that was Mary and Richard. Not May and Ben. They may be the same, but the abuse, it hasn’t been since they started lying to him. Not since they pretended that Peter wasn’t their son. They’ve not hurt him like that since they faked their own death.

And yet Oscorp has been up his ass since Spider-Man. Doubled down since May found out. He’s been followed by people who may have put it together. Who may know his actual identity. 

Peter know’s he should go to Tony. He know’s he should talk to May. Peter is acutely aware that he is an abused child. That his parents abused him. experimented on him. He shouldn’t have lived through the spider bite, not without previous experimentation. He’d be dead if it wasn’t for Mary and Richard or May and Ben, whoever they were. They saved his life with what they did.  

But what if this was Ned’s life? Or MJ’s? OR Betty’s? Or even Flash? If this was literally anyone else’s life Peter wouldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t let them think that everything was okay in their life. He would talk them out of it. He would support them and help them find other options. But this is his life. And now it’s different. And it shouldn’t be. Spider-Man stops this from happening to other children. Stops the abuse, helps get them into good homes. Yet Peter Parker isn’t doing anything for himself because as far as he’s aware it’s in the past. 

Now Peter is sitting inside a restaurant with May. They’re supposed to be having dinner together. But he needs to know. He has questions and he wants the answers. His phone is on his lap recording, and he that Tony has Happy tailing him, which means he’s right outside if anything happens. 

“So, uh, you know that MJ and I have been meditating together right? She says it’s good for people’s mental health and can help then deal with some personal stuff.” Peter starts saying once the food has arrived. May nods. “Well, I think it’s working. Which is great but I’m remembering some weird things from when Mary and Richard were alive.”

May raised her eyebrow, taking a think before she answers, the fork she was hold with chicken on the end twirling in the air. 

“Are you sure about that Pete? I mean not to say I don’t believe you but the doctors have said it’s extremely unlikely that you’ll ever regain your memories from when your parents were alive. Are you sure you’re actually remember and not just creating these stories in your head about them again?”

“Wait what? Creating stories- again? May, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, honey. Please don’t tell me you repressed this. When you were you younger you created this whole story about how Mary and Richard would hurt you and take your blood and it was horrible. You worked yourself up into such a frenzy about it that Ben and I had to put you in a hospital to help you. You were in the hospital for months. Do you not remember that?” Peter shook his head. “Honey, if what you remember of your parents is them experimenting on you or whatever convoluted thing you made up then we need to get you some more help.”

Peter was confused. He didn’t remember May and Ben shipping him away. There’s no memory of going to a hospital or saying that his parents hurt him. Peter was sure that never happened. It couldn’t have. And for May to know what Peter was going to his what his memories were. That’s wrong. She knows. She knows.

“I ran a DNA test. I know you’re actually Mary.”

May or Mary whoever she is dropped her fork, her face showing her surprise. 

“Peter, baby, I don’t know where you got that idea from but I’m not Mary, I’m not your mother. I don’t know how you made up this story now but you’re wrong. Get up Peter. We’re going to go get you some help.”

Heartbreaking, Peter felt his family shatter. For the first time in Peter’s life he looked at May and saw a stranger. To tell him he’s making this all up, that he needs help. She’s never done this before. May- Mary- May, she’d never make him feel like he was a liar. Peter had always felt validated by her. May didn’t even do this when Peter went to her about Skip. 

May got up from the table grabbing Peter by his arm and trying to pull him up with her. Peter continued to stay seated, refusing to go with her. Wanted to finish this conversation before this family ended. 

“Sit the fuck down, Mary. I’m not done yet.” Peter heard himself spit out, voice feeling detached. 

Mary sat down across from her son, a scowl set on her face. Food forgotten, her foot tapping. 

“I was on that plane too. I remember being there. There was never a May and Ben Parker before then. Don’t play dumb with me either, Mom, I go to the best school in New York that works in conjunction with the best colleges in the country. I have an internship with a certified genius and have helped develop products at SI, and regularly work with the top three smartest people in the world, and they don’t dumb things down so I can understand. I can keep up with them and I make them see things they didn’t before. I’ve corrected Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Don’t tell me I’m crazy.”

The two stayed silent staring at each other. The server came around to check in and they only nodded. After ten minutes Mary finally broke the silence. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Why did you fake your death, create identities that are literally related to me, but not fake my death? You told me you were dead for years. Why?” 

“It was the only way to protect you without ruining your life. I did what I had to do.” Mary’s voice was cold in a way that Peter hasn’t heard since he was young, and strapped to a table.

“How could you ever protect me when you were to the one to hurt me. You and Richard. You strapped me to a table, poked me with needles, injected me with experimental drugs, broke my bones and cut me open and shocked me when I didn’t do what you wanted me too. I was a child and you tortured me.”

“You think I wanted to? You’re my baby. I didn’t want to do those things, but I had too.”

“Why?”

“Peter, we’re done, we’re going.”

“Not until you answer me.”

“We’re leaving.”

“Answer me, Mary.”

“Oscorp. Norman Osborn. That’s why.”

Peter nodded. It was what he was expecting. Of course he was. He just wanted it to be different. He wanted Mary to say anything else. But it was her job. She got paid to do those things to him. Mary could have said no, could have quit her job. Richard too. They could have done something. Anything. 

It was a choice. They chose their jobs over him. They valued Peter as a lab rat, and their job as their child. Peter wasn’t important. Not to Mary, not to Richard. Not in the way he should have been.

“Alright.” Peter said. “I can’t go home with you. I can’t trust you anymore. I’m sorry Mary, but this just isn’t working with us anymore. Someone will be in contact.”

They made eye contact again. And Peter finally stood up. He tapped a button on the watch he was given from Tony, only tapped it once, to let Happy know he needs a ride, to let Tony know he needs him. His phone went into his pocket.

Just as his back turned to Mary, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There was the sound of gun being cocked behind him. The people in the restaurant as gasped and screamed, chairs moving and people trying to shuffle away. Peter turned back around seeing May holding a gun, aiming it right at him.

“You’re not going to Tony. Tony motherfucking Stark doesn’t get to lay claim to you. You are mine Peter. You are my child, you are my responsibility, you are mine and you are coming home with me. Now put your hands up baby, I can’t have you calling him. We need to go. You need help. We have to go see the doctor.”

She was shaking, tears running down her face. All Peter could see was his aunt. He could only see May. He couldn’t see Mary and that made it hurt more. He raised his hands, putting them behind his head. He found the his watch easily, clicking the buttons in rapid succession, as many times necessary to get help as soon as possible.

“May, May, please. You can’t- please. You hurt me. Over and over again. It was your choice. Please don’t hurt me anymore. Put the gun down, please. You know I won’t go willingly. I won’t, I will let you shoot me. Kill me, May, do to me what was done to Ben-Richard. Make sure no one can ever have me if you can’t. It’s the only way you can keep me safe right? By making sure I’m dead?” Peter sobbed, moving slowly onto his knees, trying to not be a threat to Mary. “You are scaring me. I used to feel safe with you May. You made me feel safe. But Mary, I don’t feel safe with you. I’d rather be dead then go to whatever place you want me too. You either need to kill me, or let me go to Tony. Either way he’ll make sure you go to jail. But I’ll try and get him to lighten up the sentence if you let me walk out of here tonight.” 

Peter was crying. And near incoherent, he wanted things to be normal. He wanted his Aunt May and he wanted to be at home watching a bad hallmark movie throwing popcorn at the tv. He wanted them to order cheap takeout food when May inevitably burnt dinner.

He could see the people trapped in the restaurant in them taking videos of them. He knew this was probably live on Facebook or Instagram or Tiktok or wherever they post live videos now. Tony was without a doubt watching when FRIDAY picked up his face online. Everyone at school would probably see this, him begging Mary to kill him instead of kidnapping him. 

Peter could hear the sound of repulsors, both of the suit and of the quinjet. He knew Mary only had limited time before Tony got here, and only a little bit more time before whatever available Avengers show up. Happy was probably busy securing the perimeter for the police. Or maybe he was working to get some of the hostages out.

“I don’t want to kill you Pete. I don’t want to kill you, it’s the last thing I want to do. So you need to come with me. You cannot go to Tony Stark. He can’t solve your problems. Let’s go. We can be together, forever. We can finally be the family I always wanted us to be. The family you always wanted to have. Mother and Son. We wouldn’t be Aunt and Nephew now that you know.”

Mary was shaking, her face red, finger on the trigger, safety turned off. She was ready to shoot her son, her child, her baby. She was fighting a losing battle. She said all the wrong things and she’s acting the wrong way. 

Iron Man touched down outside. 

“You have a minute Mary, let me leave, Tony is outside. It’ll be better if you let me go.” It was a final plea, he knew it probably wouldn’t do anything but it was worth the shot.

There was a beat of silence. 

“If I can’t have you then no one can.” Her voice was cold.

A repulsor charged. Mary was out of time. They both knew it. 

A shot rung out.

The window shattered.

Mary flew to the side.

Peter fell backwards.

Tony charged in.

Mary lost her grip on the gun, it skidded across the restaurant floor. Far out of her reach. She pushed herself away, trying to escape Iron Man. The attempt was in vain. Tony stood over her, face plate on the suit flicked up.

“You’re done Mary. You don’t get to hurt him anymore.” 

The Avengers swarmed in detaining Mary, working on getting the hostages out, having them checked by medical. 

“She shot me.” Peter cried out, trying to suck in air.

Tony turned to Peter, seeing the boy lying down. Pool of blood around him. A gun shot wound to the stomach. Peter was smiling teeth stained red. Tony broke out of his suit, skidding to his knees beside him. Tony put pressure on the wound trying to smile at Peter, to try and comfort his kid.

“Peter, kid, I’m right here. I’m right here bambino, it’s okay. She’s not going to hurt you anymore. You’re gonna move in with me, I’ve already got all the paperwork sort out. I promise you kid, you’ve got a home with me. I love you kid, it’s okay, we’ll be okay eventually.”

Peter nodded, tears streaming down his face. He didn’t hurt anymore, nothing hurt.

“I’m sorry Tony. I’m sorry. That was stupid of me. I shouldn’t’ve confronted her. She tried to kill me.” He coughed up blood. “I thought she’d tell me it was a lie. Mary never loved me.”

“It’ll be okay bambi, I’ve got you now.”

~~~~~

Peter woke up in the medbay. The lights were dimmed, Tony was asleep with his head on the Peter bed, Tony’s hand resting on Peter’s. The window’s were tinted so he couldn’t see out, and the door was closed most of the way closed. Peter grabbed a cup of water sitting on the nightstand, taking a sip and putting it back down.

“Tony?” Peter whispered, waking the man up.

“Hey Pete,” Tony smiled once he woke up, voice still sleepy, eyes willed with worry. “You comfortable? Can I get you anything? Whatever you need kid, I’ll get it for you.”

“She tried to kill me, Tony. She’d rather me dead, then alive with you. She’s the reason I’m like this. She made me a freak. Because of her I’m some mutant. She never loved me.”

“Oh Peter.” Tony sighed as Peter started sobbing.

Tony got up, crawling into the bed with Peter careful not to irritate the wound. He wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him into his chest. Peter sobbed harder, clinging to Tony.

“You’re no freak Peter. You’re not just some mutant either. You are my kid though, my son, even if not biologically. You are so important to me Peter. I’m so sorry I couldn’t take care of you. I’m so sorry that Mary lied to you you’re whole life, but you’re my kid okay? You are Peter Parker or whoever you want to be. I’m proud of you. You deserved to be loved, bambino.”

“I don’t even want to be a Parker anymore. I don’t want to be related to my parents anymore.” 

Tony wiped the tears off his son’s face. They made eye contact, Peter’s red glassy eyes and Tony’s watery eyes. 

“Then be a Stark. Or a Carbonell. Or a Potts. Or whatever other last name there is that isn’t mine or Peppers. Right. Be a Hogan or a Rhodes. You can have whatever last name you could possibly want. Rogers. Barton. Romanoff. Banner. Odinson. Maximoff. Barnes. Wilson. You don’t have to be a Parker if you don’t want to be. But personally I like the sound of you being Peter Stark, though Peter Potts has a nice ring to it too. We could hyphenate too.”

Peter laughed. “Peter Stark-Potts-Rogers-Barton-Romanoff-Banner-Odinson-Maximoff-Barnes-Wilson? Is that what you want my name to be.”

“No you silly goose. Maybe Peter Stark-Potts. Or Peter Potts-Stark. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I won’t judge. Basically I wanted to say that Pepper and I want to keep custody of you. We currently have temporary custody, because it’s up to you. We didn’t want you left out. And eventually we’d like to adopt you too.” Tony paused for a beat. “But, I feel like we’re having this conversation entirely too soon and I should let you grieve first. Mary’s not dead, that was the wrong word. She’s alive. But I figured you’d be grieving the family you lost. So we can talk about this down the line. When you’re comfortable. But Pep and I will need to know the custody thing soon at least. Gotta keep CPS off our asses at some point.”

“Tony?”

Tony hummed in response.

“Thank you.”

[spell-cleaver]

DAY 16: WHUMPTOBER: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day - Hallucinations @whumptober2020​

Considering the fact I’m doing three Xtobers, I think the fact that this is my first last post is both a surprise and a success!

Set, of course, in The Pirate Son AU - Find the masterpost here.

Ghosts were real. Living skeletons were real. The undead were real, apparently—at least, that was what Luke had inferred. He hadn’t actually asked his father for all the gruesome, grisly details yet; he hadn’t dared. But…

He remembered their first meeting. Three years ago.

He remembered how Leia had definitely shot Vader. Right through the heart.

But Vader had just stood back up and kept lumbering forward.

He hadn’t died.

Was he already dead?

Undead?

Luke had heard a thousand different sailors’ tales. He knew about Calypso, he knew about the albatrosses, he knew old-fashioned tales about women on board being bad luck—one he definitely didn’t believe, since having Leia on board, especially during a crisis, was the luckiest damn thing in the world.

He didn’t know this.

And… despite their tentative truce… He didn’t know how to ask.

Would his father reply? Would he tell him reluctantly; would he scoff and walk away, not deigning to inform his only son of that sort of thing; would he punish him for asking?

He didn’t know.

His father was so strange. The first time they met, he— he embarrassed him, beat him up, tried to kill him just for resembling the boy he’d thought his son might have been, and never once stopped to make the connection. Then once he knew the truth, he’d hunted him across the seas, fought him brutally in several battles, captured and killed his friends, beat him half to death… dragged him into a cell in his cold, wet clothes… invited him to a pleasant dinner with the intent of terrifying him witless… His crew had keelhauled him…

And then Vader had… reacted.

He’d treated him. And it had hurt, it had hurt like hell, but— but he’d treated him, he’d tried to save his life, he’d put him in a proper bed—or so that officer, Piett, had commented when Luke was first put in that bedroom after the hanging, and—

And that was something else, wasn’t it? The hanging.

Vader had offered him up to the courts and to Palpatine like meat. He’d been willing to watch him die. Then… he saved him?

What game was he playing?

Did Vader know what game he was playing?

Somehow, Luke seriously doubted it.

He was tense at the thoughts; his hands were all knotted up in the sheets of the bed Vader had given him, and he was shivering. The nightclothes he’d been given—a strangely white ensemble of a soft shirt and trousers—were hardly warm, but still… it wasn’t cold that he was shivering from.

To calm himself down, to reassure himself, he tried to start humming. The tune came easily, as did the words, playing at the back of his mind in a distant memory he hadn’t even known he’d had—

Something about the sea… and the moon sailing and cresting the waves, ever searching for her lost wife, the sun, who chased her round and round the horizon just as fiercely…

The tune calmed him. He smiled and decided—he might as well go and ask his father. He was feeling brave. He would still be awake; he was in the next room over. Luke pushed back the sheets and headed for the door, ignoring the fact that it was nighttime. The ghouls, or whatever they were, would surely be in full horror mode—but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The music soared in his head, a rising melody.

He fumbled for the door latch. It was locked—he frowned. That was… not exactly confidence inspiring, not if Vader wanted to invoke a sense of trust. It just took a whispered spell to unlock it, then the door slammed open, caught by a sudden gust of wind.

Luke shivered, squinting in the dim hallway, the lantern creaking as it swung with the ship, and stepped outside, humming to himself. His father’s room was to his right but as he walked toward it, he… kept walking. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to him right now after all. Maybe he just wanted to get some air.

He tried to avoid looking at the undead sailors under the moonlight, though he knew they were looking at him: he just made a beeline for the side, and stared out at the moon. It was as full and bright as a silver farthing and he smiled at it. The waves lapped against the side of the ship calmly, despite the rocks he could see jutting up nearby—there was an island over there, or more like a sandbank, just within swimming distance, and when he heard—

He stopped humming for a moment, but the music carried on. It sailed through him, as familiar as his bones, and he knew that voice, from something beyond memory—it was smooth and intimate and he’d heard it, muffled; he knew the presence that came with it—

He started singing again, though he didn’t know the words; they came to him as if in a trance, as if his mother herself was teaching them to him…

And that was it. Wasn’t it?

That… that was…

Of course.

If his father was alive—why couldn’t his mother be?

“Mother?” he called, almost under his breath. “Mother!”

The song rose and he sang along—it was coming from that island over there. He frowned and squinted, and he thought he could see a pale woman standing on the shore. He saw her mouth moving, imagining he could here her calling, Luke, Luke, thought he heard cursing but then there was only the music.

He needed to get to her. The song rose in urgency. He needed to—

He put his hands on the side of the ship and made to jump up, to jump off, to swim—

And someone wrapped their arms around him and yanked him back.

“No!” He kicked, snarled, but the arms around his chest were like immovable steel bands. “No, let me go, let me go, I need to—”

“You need to stay in your cabin and stay out of trouble,” Vader snapped. He constricted his arms so tightly that Luke couldn’t breathe, but he kept humming even without air. He couldn’t stop. “Oh, God, I thought the lock would be enough—”

“Let me go! That’s my mother out there!” Luke struggled and fought, he bit his father, he—

Vader’s grip slackened with shock. “Your mother?” he asked, whispered, but Luke didn’t answer. He broke free, staggered away—and before Vader could grab for him again he seized the edge of the ship and jumped overboard.

“Luke!”

The water was freezing, like a shock to the senses, and for a moment he wondered what the hell he was doing, why he’d gone for a midnight swim instead of staying cosy in his bed—then he heard the singing again, filtered through the water, and glanced around. It was all a deep, deep blue under the moonlight, bubbles fizzing around him like boiling silver, and the melody woven through it all like lace. He was enraptured.

He couldn’t breathe but that didn’t matter—he kicked forward, desperately, but not for the surface. He could surface later, but first he needed to get to his mother, whose shimmering figure he could just see through the water, above the waves…

There was a crash, a splash. Luke kept kicking forward, kept swimming, for all that he blinked, and he was getting dizzy. Bubbles fizzed behind him again but he took no notice of them, headed straight for those sharp rocks up ahead, like the deadly spires of some dark, underwater palace. He needed to—

A hand closed around his ankle and yanked him back.

“No!” he shouted, and coughed as water rushed into his mouth, every movement muffled and quiet around him. He opened wide eyes to Vader’s furious face and gasped—choking and coughing again—kicking back, kicking him—

Vader held fast to him. Luke’s struggles got him nowhere.

They got him pulled up, up, and Luke sucked in a breath of night-cold air with something that mingled between relief and disappointment. He shuddered as the music got louder, even more beautiful, and he cried out when Vader’s grip kept him from swimming for it. He needed to go, he needed to see her, he wanted his mother.

He wanted to hug her and hear her tell him it would be alright and know that it would be. He wanted a parent who would love him unconditionally, who wouldn’t hurt him, who would actually protect him. He wanted to be held and appreciated as a son, not as an asset or a powerful sorcerer or a wayward pirate; he missed Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen, he missed Ben, he missed his family, and if his mother was actually still alive, if she’d just been lost, if she hadn’t died, not the way everyone else had, then he could still have that—

“Luke, snap out of it!” Vader was shaking him, splashing seawater in his face as they kicked, tread water. Luke scrunched his eyes shut. “That’s not her, that’s—”

“My mother is there and if you’re not going to be a decent parent you can at least let me go to another one!” Luke shouted, eyes open again, trying to splash Vader back, trying to kick away, but Vader growled and suddenly Luke was immobilised, magic turning him as stiff as a board; Vader grasped him before he could sink or float away.

“That’s not her, your mother is dead, Luke, there are sirens in these waters and they are clouding your mind—" He tilted his head up to sailors watching them on the deck, rolling out a ladder for them to get back in. “Don’t just stand there, get the pistols and bows, shoot them!”

There was a chorus of yessirs and Luke screamed when he saw the arrows fly, his gaze riveted to the figure on the sandbank as blood erupted around her, as the arrows and bullets flew and she fell—“No!”

“Luke, Luke, no, don’t look at that, look at me—”

Luke tried to shake his head, the only part of him that he could move, tried to gasp out his hatred and denial and pain but Vader just grabbed his face and turned it back toward him. He pressed his forehead against his; stared into his eyes.

“Luke,” he said. “Luke, they’re sirens, that’s not her, she’s dead—”

“You don’t know that! You— she’s right there, you’re killing her, let me go—”

“She is dead! That’s not her and I know it’s not her because she is gone!”

“You don’t— stop—”

“She’s gone, Luke, that creature is using her face to sully her further—”

“No, no, no, you can’t know that—”

“I can.”

“She’s not dead!”

“She is dead!” His voice cracked on the last word. “She’s dead, Luke, stop this at once, stop being a fool, I know she is dead—”

“How could you possibly know for sure!?”

“BECAUSE I KILLED HER!”

The arrows and bullets rained and the siren’s song stopped.

Luke gasped, eyes blowing wide, suddenly so, so aware that it was cold. It was frigid, he was shivering—his teeth started chattering—and he tried to huddle closer to his father for warmth, but he couldn’t move and the motion just bobbed him under instead. Vader cursed, and then the bind on his limbs was gone, and Luke tried to come closer, but Vader had no body heat to speak of. He wasn’t mortal.

“What…” Luke whispered; suddenly, he was ready to cry. Tears were hot, and they spilled out over his numb cheeks so fast they left tingling tracks in their wake. “What… what happened…”

“I knew that mortals were susceptible to a siren’s song in the way that my crew is not, but I had underestimated the effect it would have.” Vader was grim. “I had thought the lock on your door would be enough, until I saw you on the deck—”

“No.” Luke shuddered, teeth clattering in his mouth in an uncomfortable way. “No, I meant… what happened… with her.”

Vader went silent. He put his arm around Luke’s shoulder, and started kicking, bringing them both back to the ship, but he said nothing.

“W— what— happened,” Luke got out, “with you?”

The curse.

Luke’s kidnapping.

Padmé’s death.

Everything.

What had happened?

“I… did not want to discuss your mother so early,” Vader admitted begrudgingly.

“D— do I not— d— deserve to know?”

“No. You do. And I will tell you, once we are in dry clothes.” They reached the rope ladder and Vader pushed Luke ahead of him, helping him wrap his stiff, numb hands around each rung to start off with. “But I was afraid you would hate me even more than you already did.”

I don’t hate you, Luke knew he should say. But he couldn’t, because it wasn’t true.

Instead, he just allowed Vader to push him up. He shook so hard on the climb that he nearly fell off several times, but the crew at the top hauled him up, and then that officer—Piett?—was helping him onto the deck, was letting him lean on him, was guiding him back to the room. He handed him a towel and left him alone.

Luke sat there for a while, and it was a long time before he used the towel to dry off anything more than tears.

[sweet-barnes]

Those Heels - b.b

Pairing: Bucky x tall!Reader (modern au)

Summary: You found your family in university and they had never left your side, and even after all these years the ‘surprise’ birthday parties are still going strong. Bucky finally decided it’s the right night to go after the girl.

A/N: i’m really bad with summaries, i apologise for whatever that is lmao thank you to @invisibleanonymousmonsters and @writingsoftheloser for helping out with ideas/concepts when writing a tall!reader, i appreciate it💕

You were grateful for your friends, there was no denying that. They were such a big part of your life since the day you had met, you knew you would be a completely different person altogether without them.

It had all started at university, in the student accommodation where you were all put on the same floor by some miracle. You met Natasha first, you had walked into your assigned room and she was already laying out paint samples ready for decorating. You knew from then on you were going to be in trouble with her. It wasn't long before she was introducing you to the rest of her group, and there was a lot of them.

The girls were in the rooms that surrounded you, so you naturally met them first. Wanda, Nakia, Peggy and Okoye were the sweetest bunch you had ever met and you instantly felt part of their little family. 

Next were the boys, all which you met at the party that was thrown at Tony's house. Natasha had explained to you on the way that he was the ‘rich one’ so he refused to stay in student digs. Instead residing in his dad’s mansion near the university and one of his many expensive cars in every day. 

Once you arrived at his place, you were blown away. You had only seen houses like these in passing, never did you think you would be invited to a party in one. The huge windows indented in the pristine white walls showed off the colourful lights inside and the masses of people who were already in there.  

The music could be heard thrumming from outside and as you all piled out of the car, you were pulled towards the entrance by Wanda.

Inside is where you met the rest of your family, unbeknownst to them. From Steve Rogers to Peter Quill, T'Challa to Tony Stark. There were so many people, you didn't think you could keep track of them all, but now you knew them like the back of your hand.

The one person who definitely stuck in your mind was the one brooding in the corner. His fluffy dark hair and his piercing blue eyes took your breath away as soon as you were introduced to him. 

Bucky Barnes had your heart from the moment you set eyes on him, but that dream was soon shattered by the small blonde that sidled up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and placing her head against his arm. 

You knew from then on you never stood a chance with him, and the countless other girls he introduced to the group just clarified that. You gave up on that dream quickly, promising yourself you wouldn't get too close to him for your heart to break.

Very soon after that, you may have let your secret crush on him slip to the girls. Of course they freaked out but you soon shot them down, not wanting them to get your own hopes up for something that wasn't going to happen. The way you said "he only likes small girls" gave away to them how you really felt and they tried their hardest to make you see it from their view, but it was no use. 

They were all so petite, yet so strong and powerful in the way they held themselves. They would never understand how you felt within yourself.  It wasn't that you didn't think you were strong and powerful, you knew as a woman you had your place in this world to do your bit for the better. You just weren't petite like them. You were at least a head taller and you felt like you didn't belong.

Despite the sharing your insecurities one drunken night at fresher’s, the girls never let go of you. Your friendship with them, even though it was only 5 days old at the time, was too precious for them to lose. That still stood 11 years later.

--

You placed the jumpsuit in front of your body, looking it up and down in the mirror before throwing it back down on the bed. "Are you excited?" Natasha asked as she walked into the room, a black body con dress hugging her body. You let out a groan, plopping back onto your bed. "Am I ever excited for one of Tony's parties?"

Tony was still rich, of course he was, he was a genius. His habit of having parties at every possible opportunity had never wavered, and birthday's were no exception to that rule. A 'surprise' birthday party was thrown every year for everyone within the group, even though all of you knew it was coming, it was like clockwork.

Everyone else loved it, you on the other hand, would rather be curled up on the sofa with a tub of Ben and Jerry's watching Netflix. You couldn't exactly avoid this one, it was your birthday and this party was especially for you.

The girls had taken you shopping earlier that day, which had already set your anxiety off. You hated clothes shopping and even though they tried their hardest to get you to buy a nice dress for the evening, you still arrived home with a jumpsuit, a classic look for you. There was no way you were going to a party that you were already uncomfortable with and making that worse with a dress.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it once you get there," Natasha sat next to you and that's when you noticed the gift bag in her hand. "Nat, I told you I didn't want anything," you gave her a look before flitting your eyes down to the sparkly bag, curious to see what was inside. 

"I know but I couldn't not get my best friend something for her birthday, and it's a bit of a risky present if I'm honest but I would really appreciate it if you maybe wore them tonight?" Your mind was all over the place trying to think of what it could possibly be. Natasha pushed the bag towards you and you didn't waste any time in pulling out the tissue paper to reveal what was inside.

You lifted the shoes out, or should you say heels, and turned them slightly to inspect them. "Do you like them?" Natasha whispered next to you, leaning in slightly. They were black, thick straps along the top and around the ankle, with a small chunky heel and a slight platform.

They were pretty, you couldn't deny it, and they were just your style. "Yes," you breathed out. Without thinking, you shooed Natasha out, telling her you would be two minutes before changing into your outfit and putting on the shoes.

You stared at your figure in the mirror, the jumpsuit hugging in at your waist and stopping just above your ankles, showing off the straps on the heels perfectly. There was a slight plunge neckline, showing off your chest just enough that you didn't feel completely ridiculous. 

"Oh my god," that was when you heard the murmuring from the doorway and you turned to see all your girls stood there, mouths dropping at the sight of you.

"You look gorgeous!" Wanda squealed, making everyone laugh. Every one joined in with the compliments and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks at all the attention you were getting. 

"Don't we have a party to get to?" You questioned, attempting to stop the onslaught of comments. It worked in your favour and soon, you were all piling into a taxi, making your way to another of Tony's mansions.

You felt the base through the floor as you stepped in through the double doors. You looked around at the familiar faces, shooting back a thank you every time someone greeted you with a 'happy birthday.' Most of these people were just acquaintances, people your group had met along the way and had been nice enough to be invited to one of the parties. 

To be honest, Tony just liked having a lot of people at his parties. 

You all weaved your way through the crowds of people, picking up your drinks in the kitchen and making your into one of the large back rooms. Every one you knew and loved was in there and as soon as they saw you, a chorus of happy birthday's was shouted in your direction.

You couldn't help the giggle that erupted from you as you went in to give everyone a hug, all their grips strong on you as they pulled you into them. "You're getting old now," Sam joked, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his side. You gasped, "hey, that's rude," you gave him a light slap on his chest before laughing along with him.

You looked around at the small circle your friends had formed, consisting of Natasha, Nakia, Steve, Sam and Bucky. Your eyes scanned them all, taking in the joyous looks on their faces before your eyes landed on Bucky. 

Your heart leapt as you locked eyes with him, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked you up and down.

A wave of self-consciousness fell over you and you felt yourself retreating slightly into Sam's side. You sent Bucky a quick smile before looking back at Steve to try and concentrate on the story he was telling.

And the night went on like that. Flitting between different groups of your friends, trying not to feel out of place. 

You had noticed a few glances from people as you were taking photos, especially with the girls. It was now just natural for you to bend your knees slightly when taking selfies with them, you had been doing it since you had first met but clearly other people weren't used to it. You tried to ignore them the best you could but with the more alcohol you consumed, the more irritating it became.

You were at the bar again, ordering another drink when you felt the presence of someone beside you. Their musky vanilla smell hit you, and you recognised it instantly. 

"You look really good tonight, Y/N." His voice was husky and you could tell he'd been drinking. You looked to your side, taking in his sculpted face next to you. "Do you not have some small blonde with you tonight?" You attempted to joke but you truly meant it. Bucky chuckled, "not this time, got my eye on someone else."

You rolled your eyes, taking the drink that had just been placed in front of you, not saying anything else.

"I noticed you were wearing heels, that's a-" Bucky was cut of by a sharp "hey." You both turned to see Nakia stood behind you, a stern look directed straight at Bucky. She was the wrong person to mess with and clearly Bucky had pissed her off. 

"You do not say anything about her heels, do you understand Barnes?" She pointed a finger at him, nudging him slightly and the bewildered look on his face nearly made you laugh. "What? I wasn't going to say anything-" She cut him off again. "I heard you, James," you took the opportunity to sneak away, hearing their voices fading as Bucky was trying to defend himself against her.

If there was anyone that would stick up for you, Nakia was the best for it, everyone listened to her and they didn’t dare try to disagree. You slipped out onto the balcony, grateful for the cool evening air against your hot skin. You took another sip of your drink and the alcohol burned slightly as it went down.

Of course it was Bucky who would point out the heels. He just couldn't help himself. For someone who was so good with the ladies, he definitely didn't know how to talk to one. Or talk to you at least.

The door behind you slid open, letting out the loud music before muting it again as it closed. "Y/N?" Bucky's voice was soft and you turned to meet his nervous stance. "Look, I'm really sorry about what I said back there, Nakia explained it and I really didn't mean it to come across any type of way," his was wringing his hands together as he looked at you. 

You let out a sigh, "it's okay, Buck, I know you didn't mean any harm." His womaniser demeanor was gone as he moved to stand next to you. A moment passed before he spoke again, "I was going to say you look really hot actually," chuckling at himself. 

Your heart stopped, questioning whether he really just said that. "And I'm not just saying that to sleep with you, I know you think I'm like that sometimes but I wouldn't do that to you."

You eventually found your voice, looking into Bucky's hopeful eyes as he tried to read your thoughts. "I'm not like any other girl you've ever been with Bucky, why now?" There was a shift in the way he looked at you before he looked down. 

"Since the first day I met you at Tony's party, 11 years ago, I knew I felt something for you. I was just a dick and I slept around too much and I knew you didn't like it, I could tell by the way you looked at each new girl whenever I showed up with one. Then you became more and more distant, I knew it would be harder to get to you and make you see how I felt so I thought it was better to leave it," he paused, taking a deep breath. Your mind was all over the place, not knowing what to say or do, but Bucky carried on anyway.

"But I've stopped that now, I've been single for about a year and I was hoping you'd see that and see I'm not the guy that you thought I was but I guess that was a stupid plan." You laughed a little at this and Bucky joined in. "I was going to ask if you'd like to dance with me?" 

Your mouth was already agreeing to it before you could fully process what was happening. Bucky took your hand in his, leading you back inside and into the cleared area that had become the dancefloor. A slow song had started playing and couples were paired together around you. 

As you walked into the centre with Bucky, you felt eyes from all over the room looking at you. Your gaze landed on Natasha's over the shoulder of Bruce, she sent you a wink before a big smile broke out onto her face. She knew your feelings for Bucky never truly faded and she couldn't help the happiness she felt at seeing you two finally together now.

Bucky turned to face you, his arms snaking around your waist, pulling you close to him while your arms went over his shoulders. "Is this alright?" He whispered, his blue eyes sparkling even in the low light, as you looked across at him. You simply hummed in response, nodding slightly. 

No one said anything. Your skin was on fire from where his arms were touching you, even through your clothes and a feeling of serenity washed over you. It was like everyone else in the room melted away and it was just you and Bucky dancing alone. No more eyes prying into your business or making you feel small.

"This is nice," you said softly, Bucky placed his forehead on yours, closing the distance even further. You felt yourself becoming flustered and moved your head to rest on his shoulder instead. He moved your body so it was flush against his. "I could do this forever," he murmured into your hair. "How have I been missing out this long?" 

You were sure he was talking to himself at this point but you couldn't help yourself, "well... if you hadn't screwed all those other girls-" 

You were cut off by his hands moving to tickle your waist, his laugh mixing with yours as you tried to get away. "No, you're not going anywhere," he tried to grab you again but you were too quick. 

"Just watch me, Barnes!" You shouted, slipping away into the crowd. Bucky shook his head at you, pausing for a second to watch your figure disappear. 

“Why did I wait so long?” He whispered to himself, before running into the crowd after you.

[starryknight09]

Surprise?

Febuwhump Day 27: identity reveal

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“Hey do you want to come over tonight?” Ned asked as they stood at their lockers, shoving their books into their backpacks.

“I can’t.  It’s a Friday remember?” Peter said, feeling kind of bad.  He knew he’d been neglecting Ned lately with everything that was going on in his life.  Juggling decathlon, school, homework, Spiderman, and his internship made it seem like there was just never enough time in the day, or week for that matter, for all the stuff he needed to get done.

“So?” Ned frowned.

“I have my Stark internship on Fridays.” He reminded him.

“Oh right.” Ned nodded as they walked down the hallway toward the school doors.  “So, are you going to tell Mr. Stark about you know what today?”

“Um no.” He winced.  He’d applied for the Stark internship on a whim a year ago and had actually gotten it.  The day he’d found out he was going to be interning directly under Tony Stark, he’d almost wet himself, but after almost a year of working with him, that had definitely faded.  As Mr. Stark would say, he sassed him more than he complimented him now.  

When he’d gotten bit by the radioactive spider six months ago, he’d thought about telling Mr. Stark about his new powers, but by then they’d grown close enough that he was worried Mr. Stark wouldn’t allow him to keep being Spiderman if he found out.  And then Ben had died.  And thoughts of anything else had gone out the window.

“Peter.” Ned chastised.  “It’s been weeks.  You should just tell him.  He’s going to figure it out soon anyway.”

“Not necessarily.  Spiderman’s been around for the last six months and Mr. Stark hasn’t figured it out yet.” Peter hedged.  Ok, so realistically he knew Mr. Stark would eventually figure it out, but he’d been extra careful ever since the man had started up his hunt to find out who Spiderman was.  Besides, Peter had an advantage.  He worked directly with his enemy, so he was always one step ahead of him and Mr. Stark had no idea.

“Yeah he’s been around for six months, but Mr. Stark has only been looking for him for the last three weeks.” Ned argued.  “He’s getting closer and you know it.”

Peter did know it.  On Wednesday Mr. Stark had shown him a clip of Spiderman swinging into an abandoned alleyway to change.  His mentor had been so sure he’d had him, but then a garbage truck had driven by the entrance of the alleyway just as Peter was leaving in his street clothes, luckily obscuring his identity.  Mr. Stark had sworn up a blue streak and Peter had made a mental note to be much more cognizant of city cameras whenever he was getting in and out of the suit.

“But if I tell him who I am then it’ll take all the fun out of it for him.” Peter smirked.  He’d known Mr. Stark long enough to know that as much as he kept complaining about ‘this webhead’ he was enjoying the challenge of it.  Peter didn’t want to spoil it for him.  At least that’s what he’d been telling himself the last few weeks ever since Mr. Stark had told him he wanted his help to find Spiderman.

“You’re playing with fire dude.” Ned warned as they passed through the school doors to outside.

“Why?  What’s he going to do to me if he finds out?” Peter said with false bravado.  “Ground me?  He’s not my dad.”

“Does he know that though?” Ned joked.  “Didn’t he pack you a lunch for school when you stayed over at his place last week?”

“Yeah.”

“And didn’t he spend all day watching a Star Wars marathon with you last weekend when he doesn’t even like Star Wars?”

Peter made a face.  Ok, so Ned kind of had a point.

“And don’t him and your aunt have like coffee dates every month now just to talk about you?”

“Ok ok I get it.”

“So how do you think he’s going to react when he finds out you’ve been keeping this from him?” Ned asked.

“He’s going to be pissed.” He decided.

“Right.” Ned nodded.  “And do you think he’ll be more or less pissed if he finds out on his own instead of you telling him about it?”

“Definitely more.” Peter agreed.

“Ok so you agree you should tell him today.”

“No.”

“Peter!” Ned shook his head.  “You’re hopeless.”

“It’s all a moot point anyway.  He’s not going to find out.”

“Hopeless and in denial.” Ned said.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Whatever dude.  It’s your funeral.  Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Ned clapped him on the shoulder and turned to start walking home.  “Text me if you want to hang out this weekend.”

“I will.” Peter said and made his way toward the nondescript Audi waiting for him.

“Hey Happy.” He greeted the man behind the steering wheel as he crawled in.  Or as he liked to think of him, not-so-Happy.

Happy didn’t respond to his greeting as he started driving away, but Peter still liked to think he was slowly growing on the man.

“Guess what we did in chemistry today?  Our teacher said—”

“I’ll give you this snickers bar if you don’t talk for the next ten minutes.” Happy interrupted, holding up said candy bar as proof.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.” He stared out the window.  The man was bringing him candy now.  He was definitely growing on him.

**********

Ned was wrong.  Mr. Stark didn’t figure out Spiderman’s identity that week.  Or even the week after.  Or the week after that.  Although Peter did have another close call with a traffic camera he didn’t know was installed nearby when he’d taken his mask off to deal with a bloody nose.  In the intervening weeks, he’d thought more seriously about coming clean to his mentor because Mr. Stark was getting a little obsessive and it was making Peter’s life a lot harder.  He had to completely avoid the area near his apartment now because Tony had come up with an algorithm to track where Spiderman was sighted and he was using it as a tool to try to narrow in on his possible residence.  Admittedly smart, but super annoying for Peter because now he had to walk at least ten blocks home every night after Spidermanning.  And his mentor had even figured out the components of his web fluid, although he hadn’t been able to successfully reverse engineer it yet.  Part of Peter felt a spark of pride at that even though some of his Mr. Stark’s failure might’ve been his fault.  He’d been trying his hardest to slow him down.  But now that his mentor knew the web fluid materials, he was looking for people who had bought large quantities of those exact chemicals.  At least Peter was safe in that regard, he still mooched everything from his chemistry class.  But by now even Peter had to admit it was only a matter of time before Mr. Stark thought of something even Peter couldn’t foresee or deter.

Ned had been on his case the past week about telling the man and Peter was seriously considering it for the first time.  

“Hey Mr. Stark!” He greeted as he walked into the man’s lab, feeling his usual flash of wonder.  After a year, having access to Tony Stark’s private lab still hadn’t gotten old.

“Hey Mr. Parker.” His mentor said, spinning in his desk chair to face him.  “How many more times am I going to have to tell you to call me Tony?”

Peter shrugged.  Honestly, he did it now solely because he knew it annoyed him.  “What are you doing?” He asked, sidestepping the question and pointing to the holoscreens Mr. Stark had pulled up over his desk.

Mr. Stark narrowed his eyes at him as if trying to decide whether or not to push the name thing, but after a moment he twirled back to face the screens, letting it go.  “I’m hacking into a bodega’s security camera.”

Peter walked over to him, dropping his backpack on the ground next to the desk with the weight of the knowledge that it held the suit of the very vigilante Mr. Stark was looking for.  He stared at the screens over the man’s shoulder.  They looked oddly familiar.  “Why?”

“Because I’ve finally got the little pipsqueak.” Mr. Stark said with eager excitement.

“What are you talking about?  Because you’re starting to sound a little supervillainy...” Peter joked.

“Spiderman.” Mr. Stark answered.  “I finally got him.”

Peter’s heart leapt into his chest as he asked nervously, “You did?  Um h-how?”

“He repeatedly patrols around this area.” Mr. Stark explained and pointed to the corresponding area on the map of Queens.  The part right by Mr. Delmar’s shop.  Oh shit.  He hadn’t thought of that and he thought he’d been so careful.  “Ever since I realized it, I’ve had FRIDAY continuously scanning the traffic cameras and we got lucky.  She caught him going into this alleyway here.” Mr. Stark pointed to the alley on the screen.  “Now watch.  A minute later someone comes out.”

Peter watched himself exit the alleyway with his navy hoodie pulled up over his head to obscure his face.  He breathed a silent sigh of relief.  There was no way you could tell that was him.

“Now, I know you can’t see his face, and I couldn’t get a good enough angle from any other cameras in the area, but I managed to follow him the next three blocks to this bodega.  I screened the footage from outside of it for the previous hour before he goes in, and if I’m right, it should be completely empty except for him.”

Yeah, that tracked.  No one had been in there when he’d visited Mr. Delmar and Murph yesterday.

“So?” He asked, sensing Mr. Stark was waiting for him to do so.

“So my young grasshopper, whoever this guy is goes in with his hood up, but when he comes out ten minutes later, look.” Mr. Stark pointed to the screen.  “His hood is still up but the strings around it aren’t pulled tight anymore which means…”

“He took it off in the store.” Peter mumbled in shock.  He had taken it off in the store.  He’d thought he was safe, and he hadn’t wanted Mr. Delmar to think he was being a weirdo punk.

“He took it off in the store.” Mr. Stark repeated with satisfaction.  “So, if I can hack into the bodega’s security footage, I can finally figure out exactly who this little twerp is that’s been evading me these past couple months.”

“Uh huh.” He said distractedly as he tried to figure out a way out of this, but no ideas came to mind.  Shit.  He never should’ve stopped for a sandwich yesterday during patrol.  It didn’t matter how hungry he’d been or how good they tasted.

Mr. Stark continued typing away and moment later declared, “Ah ha!  I’m in.”

“Um Mr. Stark, there’s something I need to tell you.” Peter tried to nervously interject, but his mentor was in the zone.  Peter could’ve been screaming he was on fire and Mr. Stark wouldn’t have heard him.

“Get ready to be amazed kid.” Mr. Stark said, cocky as hell as he brought up the footage from the camera behind Mr. Delmar’s counter.  “It’s finally time to see exactly who you are Spiderman.”

“Uh…” He really needed to say something or do something or—

Too late.  The feed from Mr. Delmar’s camera came up on the screen.  He froze.  There was Mr. Delmar, and Murph lying on the counter, and there he was walking in with his hood over his head.  Shit.  His hand moved up to his hood.  It was a lot like watching a train wreck in slow motion.  And his hood was off.  His profile wasn’t very descript, but he knew any second he’d turn toward Mr. Delmar and be facing the camera straight on.  And yep.  There he was.  In all his idiot glory.

“Wait.” Mr. Stark frowned and leaned closer to the screen as if he didn’t believe his eyes.  “That looks like…”

Peter winced and a split second later Mr. Stark whirled to face him, face showing absolute shock.

“You.” Mr. Stark accused and then said in disbelief.  “It’s you.”

He fake shrugged, holding his hands out, palms up.  “Surprise?”

“What the f—”

“I’m sorry!”

Mr. Stark stood from his chair so fast it fell over backward.  He pointed a finger at him.  “You’re Spiderman?  This whole time I’ve been looking for him and he’s been in my own lab?  My very own intern?”

“Um, it looks like it?”

“Don’t be cute.  Yes or no.”

“Yes.” He nodded, backing up as Mr. Stark slowly advanced toward him.  Peter’s eyes widened.  “I was going to tell you!  I was!  But then I just…didn’t?”

“You were helping me look for him!”

Peter made a considering face.  “Well, I was pretending to?  But really I was trying to stay one step ahead of you.”

He bumped into his desk chair and fell into it.  Tony stood over him, arms crossed, still looking more than a little angry.

“How.  Did.  This.  Happen?” Tony ground out.

“Um, remember that field to Oscorp that I went on about six months ago that you said I shouldn’t go on?” Peter asked nervously.

“Yes.”

“Turns out you were right.” He said as he nodded.

“What?”

“I uh got bit by a radioactive spider, and it made me so sick I thought I was dying, but then I woke up and I was this.” He gestured at his body.

Mr. Stark’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Oh.  Um.” He lifted his shirt so Mr. Stark could see his perfectly chiseled six pack abs.

“Jesus kid.” Mr. Stark shook his head.

“Oh and I lied about getting contacts.  I didn’t.  I just don’t need glasses anymore.  The bite fixed all of that.  And I don’t have allergies or asthma anymore either, so you can update that on my employee form if you want.”

“Yes because that’s what’s important right now.” Mr. Stark scoffed.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated although it seemed like Mr. Stark’s anger was cooling.  He didn’t look like he was about to have an aneurysm anymore.  “I should’ve told you when you started looking for Spiderman.  I know I wasted your time.”

“No!  You should’ve told me six months ago when it first happened!” Mr. Stark yelled.  Ok, so maybe he was still pretty mad.  “You thought you were dying and you didn’t tell anyone?  And then you woke up with superpowers and you still didn’t tell anyone?”

“Yeah, that’s the gist of it.” He grimaced.

Mr. Stark put his hand over his face as she shook his head.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before dropping his hand and meeting Peter’s gaze to ask, “So no one knows?”

“Well, um, Ned knows because he caught me sneaking into my room as Spiderman, and now…you know.” Peter answered.

“May doesn’t know?”

“No.” He shook his head vehemently.

“Of course not.” Mr. Stark scoffed. “Because why would you tell a responsible adult you’re going out at all hours of the night to fight criminals.  Jesus.” Mr. Stark shook his head again in disbelief.  “You’re going out at all hours of the night to fight criminals.  Well that ends today.”

“No!” Peter shot to his feet and raised his chin as he faced Mr. Stark unflinchingly.  “I’m not going to stop!  And you can’t make me!” He knew the wording made him sound like a petulant child but he didn’t care.

Mr. Stark raised his eyebrows at him in challenge and Peter had to force himself to stand tall and not wither under his gaze.  Sometimes he forgot Mr. Stark was Ironman, Tony Stark, but at times like these, getting stared down by the man, he remembered.

Mr. Stark shook his head and said, “You’re fourteen years old.”  

“I’m fifteen!  And I know you know that!  You got me a birthday present.” He accused.  “Besides, I’ve been doing this for six months and I’ve been fine.  I’m not going to stop now.  And this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you!  I knew you’d go all nuts about it!”

“Yes because not wanting to let a child run around in the middle of the night fighting crime is nuts.” Mr. Stark rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a child!”

Mr. Stark frowned and the next second he suddenly spun on his heels and marched over to where he’d left his backpack, lifting it up to his desk and opening it.

“Hey that’s mine!” Peter protested, hurrying over to him but it was too late.  Mr. Stark fished out his Spiderman suit from the bottom of it and held it out.

“This? This is what you fight crime in?  It’s a onesie!”

“No it’s not.” He frowned.  He’d put a lot of work into making that.  He didn’t appreciate Mr. Stark making fun of it.

“What is it then?”

“My super suit.” He smiled.

“We are never watching The Incredibles again.” Mr. Stark shook his head.  “And what are these?” His mentor asked, holding up his goggles to his own eyes.  “How the hell do you even see anything through these?”

Peter snatched them from his hands.  “They help.  Ever since I got my powers all my senses are have been dialed to eleven.  There’s way too much input.  Those help me filter it out and focus.”

Mr. Stark frowned, looking at him in a way he never had before, like there might be something wrong with him, which didn’t make any sense.  He’d never once looked at weak, little, half blind, asthmatic Peter Parker the way he was now looking at Spiderman.  Peter didn’t like it.

Mr. Stark dropped his suit to his desk with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “So let me get this straight, you got bit by a radioactive spider, almost died but didn’t, woke up with super powers and then decided to sew a onesie and start swinging around town fighting crime?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Tell me why.  Why are you doing this?” The man ordered and Peter could tell this was important.

“Because…when you can do the things I can and you don’t and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.” He explained solemnly and tried not to think of his uncle lying limp on the concrete, bleeding out.

Mr. Stark sighed and dropped back down into his desk chair, resting a fist over his mouth as he examined Peter.

Peter tried not to fidget under the scrutiny.

“If I let you do this, we’re doing it my way.” Mr. Stark finally spoke.

“Yes!” Peter thrust his arms in the air and then threw himself at Mr. Stark to hug him.  “Thank Mr. Stark!  Thank you!”

Mr. Stark patted his back awkwardly.  “Yeah.  All right.  All right.  Don’t thank me yet.  There are going to be ground rules.  A lot of ground rules.  And a curfew.”

“Aw come on.” Peter complained as he pulled away.

“And I don’t want to hear any sass about it, because you can say I can’t stop you all you want, but you and I both know I can.” Mr. Stark held a finger up at him in warning.  It was true.  He did know.  “First of all, I’m going to make you a suit.”

“Really?” His eyes went wide.

“Really.  You’re in dire need of an upgrade.  I can’t let you keep swinging around town in this.” Mr. Stark poked at his super suit as if was a stinky pile of garbage.

“It’s not that bad…” He argued but the thought of having a suit built for him by Mr. Stark made him want to jump up and down in excitement.

“And I’m telling May.” Mr. Stark said.

“No!  Please Mr. Stark, you can’t tell her!”

“She needs to know kid.  You’re her responsibility and you’re out there risking your life.”

“Risking my life is kind of an exaggeration.  I mean I don’t do that many dangerous things.  I’m more like the friendly neighborhood spiderman.”

“I saw a video of you webbing up bank robbers last week.  They were shooting at you.  Very real bullets.  Very real life risking danger.” Mr. Stark said, not amused.  A second later he frowned as he stared off in the distance at the wall behind Peter, looking like he was deep in thought.

“Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter prompted.

“Just replaying in my head all those videos I’ve seen of you doing stupidly dangerous stunts.”

Peter rolled his eyes.  “They’re not that bad.”

Mr. Stark arched an eyebrow at him.

“Please don’t tell May.” He pleaded.  “If she knows she’s going to freak out and then I’m going to freak out and she doesn’t need this kind of stress right now, not after…” He trailed off, not wanting to talk about his uncle’s death.  He could tell Mr. Stark understood though because he made the face everyone made whenever Peter mentioned Ben these days.

Mr. Stark ran a hand down his face and nodded.  “Ok fine.”

“Thank you!”

“But I reserve the right to change my mind at any time.”

“Fine.” Peter didn’t like it, but it was better than the alternative.

“So.” Mr. Stark sighed and slapped his thighs before standing.  “That web fluid.  You made that yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Stark smiled, and Peter didn’t think he was imagining the pride in his eyes.  “Where’d you get the supplies?”

“Chemistry class.”

Mr. Stark snorted.  “Of course you did.  You want to walk me through how you make it?”

Peter grinned.  “Sure.”

Huh.  Maybe Ned had been right.  Mr. Stark finding out hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought it would be.

[ren1327]

Sweater Weather Ch. 8

Ben woke up with Kenji’s face in his stomach, his body folder over as he rest on a pillow laid over the larger man’s back.

The sun was just peeking through the trees and he heard a whine, Bumpy scratching at the front door.

“Kenji.” Ben called.

Kenji groaned.

“Kenji, Bumpy needs to go for a walk.” Ben said.

“No…”

“Kenji, we slept in the living room, come on.”

“I got her, Ben!” Carmen said and walked in the room, dressed in a cute set of snow boots and a jacket. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. You guys should take a power nap on the bed to straighten out your spines.”

“Thank you, Carmen.” Kenji said, voice muffled in Ben’s sternum.

Ben chuckled and pet the back of his head before lightly smacking it. “Come on.”

Kenji slapped his thigh a little too hard.

“Ow! That hurt!” Ben huffed.

“I can kiss it better.” Kenji hummed.

“You can reach more in bed.” Ben said and Kenji slid back and up.

“I’m up.” Kenji said and Ben laughed, pushing him back so he could hobble to their bedroom, pulling back the quilts and comforters and sliding in, Kenji not wasting a moment joining him.

Ben blushed and pulled him close, kissing his forehead as the larger man sighed softly. Kenji snuggled into the smaller man’s chest and Ben hugged him best he could.

“This is nice.” Kenji hummed and Ben chuckled.

“Yeah.”

He closed his eyes and for a moment, imagined dry grassland or manicured shrubbery around buildings in San Antonio.

He would wake up like this every morning. Maybe with Kenji curled around him, he curled around Kenji, back to back or to one of Kenji’s rare starfish moments. Ben would most likely wake up first and get coffee going, then whine for Kenji to cook something. They’d eat together, go to work, maybe shower or go grocery shopping together, Bumpy next to them on her leash.

Domestic and happy.

He didn’t think it was possible.

Some part of him felt he didn’t deserve it.

And a smaller part of him wanted to grab and hold on to the image of he and Kenji walking hand and hand into a building where people were laughing and hanging out, waving good morning to them and a wall of smiling families who they had helped near the door.

He felt Kenji’s breathing deepen and felt him relax into sleep, his finger’s massaging his scalp through the black locks.

…could they get married and start a family too?

He blushed and hugged Kenji closer.

With both hands, he held on to the image tight.

He could be happy.

*

Ben woke to the smell of French toast, bacon and hazelnut coffee.

He blinked awake, noticing a large pillow in his arms instead of the firstborn Kon heir.

“Morning, Sleepybutt.” Kenji said.

“Afternoon.” Ben said, glancing at the clock.

“Not noon yet.” Kenji said, holding the plate out. “And bacon is an all-day thing.”

“This is turkey bacon.” Ben said.

“Cause too much grease gives you heart burn.” Kenji said. “I listened to you complain on the phone with Sammy the other night.”

“I love you.” Ben sighed and took the plate, then froze.

Kenji was blushing and staring at him.

“I-I mean…”

“Yeah!” Kenji shouted. “I get it. Um, I forgot…cream! For the coffee!”

Kenji quickly escaped the room, leaving Ben to blush down at the food, hoping things couldn’t get more awkward.

*

Things got more awkward.

Ben and Kenji were walking to the lighthouse, hands brushing, but not touching after a tense brunch.

Carmen once again kept Bumpy close, Kenji asking Ben if he wanted to explore the old light house.

Trudging up the gravel path, they made it to the tall structure, Kenji opening the door for Ben.

“I thought this needs a lighthouse keeper.” Ben said.

“Owen checks on it every other night, but it’s fully on a timer and the diagnostics are sent to us if anything looks suspicious.” Kenji said.

“So…your lighthouse is on a timer?”

“Pretty much.” Kenji said. “Buuuut…”

He pulled Ben close and smiled.

“More privacy.” Kenji said and kissed Ben’s cold nose.

Ben scoffed and pushed him away, then started up the stairs, Kenji right behind him as they both raced to the top, Kenji winning with his longer legs. The smaller man panted and Kenji opened the door, the very breath leaving Ben as he walked out and saw over the lakes.

“Oh…” He whispered and stared out over the water and snow.

Kenji came up behind him, hugging him around the waist. “What a view.”

Ben nodded.

They stood in silence for a moment, Kenji laying his cheek on the top of Ben’s head.

“You’d leave this for San Antonio?”

“I’d leave it for you and we’d visit together.”

“Kenji…” Ben turned. “I don’t want to be your reason for doing things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not Brooklynn.”

Kenji gasped softly. “I…I wont lie, I swear!”

“And you will improve yourself for yourself too.” Ben said. “Not go along with whatever I say so we avoid conflicts. Real couples fight, Kenji.”

“I…What if we fight too much or I mess up, or we never figure it out?”

“Look at us now, Kenji.” Ben said, taking his hands. “Look how much we’ve figured out already.”

The shorter man closed his eyes.

“We don’t love each other, maybe we wont really, or maybe…maybe we’ll be happy together forever.” Ben said. “But don’t treat me as all or nothing just yet. Don’t use me as a prop. When we go to the ball, just be my boyfriend and nothing else.”

“So…real boyfriend instead of fake boyfriend?”

Ben leaned forward and kissed his nose. “Exactly that.”

Kenji chuckled and pulled Ben close.

“Hey!”

They both looked down to see Owen and Carmen at the bottom of the lighthouse, looking up at the two.

“We’re leaving tonight!” Owen yelled. “So get packing!”

Kenji sighed and rested his forehead on Ben’s.

“Rain check?”

“Yeah.” Ben said and they waved down before going to the stairs.

*

Ben smiled as they were loaded into a van, Carmen sitting in the back with Bumpy as Ben and Kenji took the middle seats, holding hands and snuggled up together as Owen drove them to Seattle from the large boathouse they had docked the yacht in.

“So, how’s everything?” He asked.

“Great.” Kenji said, leaning his head on Ben’s.

“They finally got together.” Carmen called.

“What?!” Kenji yelled. “You knew too?!”

“I’m your on-site bodyguard for a reason, kid.” Owen said with a smile.

Ben chuckled and looked up at Kenji. The taller man sighed and settled back into their cuddle, Bumpy jumping over the seats to lay in Ben’s lap as Carmen put on her headphones and started playing her switch.

“Hey.” He said softly and Ben looked up, eyes hooded with content.

“Hey.”

“Wanna go for a walk after dinner?” Kenji asked.

“Dinner with your parents?” Ben asked with a smile.

“The restaurant is in the hotel, we can go out for an hour or two with Bumpy to a café or the Space Needle or the Great Wheel…”

“I think it might be a little too late for all that. But maybe a café after I tell your parents I want to extend my stay?” Ben asked.

Kenji grinned and hugged Ben close.

“Aw.” Owen cooed and Kenji kicked the back of his seat.

*

Ben and Kenji were placed in a room together, Bumpy having a plush pet bed next to theirs.

Kenji was laying on his back as Ben changed from his dinner clothes into something more casual.

Dinner had been amazing, Kosei and Candy looking well rested despite the constant planning and rechecking of the ball’s supplies and preparation.

“Ben.” Candy had said over dessert. “You, Carmen and I should go shopping tomorrow morning.”

“Mom…” Kenji whined.

“Oh, right. I forgot Ben probably will want to go back…” She murmured.

“Actually.” Ben said. “Carmen was telling me about New Years and…”

He blushed, Kenji smirking and taking his hand.

“We were wondering if we could stay past New Years.” Kenji finished.

“Of course!” Kosei said with a wide smile, surprising his family and Ben from his outburst.

Candy clapped her hands.

“The we are definitely doing that shopping trip!” She said. “Sorry, Baby.”

“It’s cool.” Kenji said. “Bumpy and I will just hang out with Dad.”

Kosei nodded.

Dinner went on, and now they were going to go on their walk, Bumpy zooming around in circles in her little green vest and booties.

“Ready?” He asked Kenji.

Kenji lifted his legs and swung them down, using the momentum to stand, doing a little jump.

“Yeah.” He said and pocketed their room key.

He took Ben’s hand, who lifted Bumpy in his other hand, her leash around his hand.

“Let’s go.” He said.

Kenji led his boyfriend to the elevator, then down to the lobby where they were greeted by a few front desk employees and the doorman.

Ben put Bumpy down, who immediately sniffed at the plant beds and started tugging Ben along.

Kenji laughed and wrapped an arm around Ben’s waist as they walked.

“It’s so bright!” Ben said with a smile, looking at the lights and neon.

“Is it what you thought it would be?” Kenji asked. “Or better?”

Ben smiled at Kenji. “Way better.”

“You know I—”

“Kenji?” A voice called and Ben felt his boyfriend freeze beside him as he looked towards their left.

A slender woman with pink hair and green eyes stood there with an older couple.

“Go on, I’ll just be a minute.” She told them and the men nodded and walked ahead towards the hotel, hand in hand.

Kenji gulped as one openly glared at him as they passed.

“Hi.” He said to her, Ben realizing who the girl was.

“Hi, Kenji.” She said, raising her chin. “Been a while.”

“How have you been, Brooklynn?”