#don’t worry he won’t pay them also because Peter is broke

[gotnofucks]

Going Against Nature

Pairing: dark!alpha!Steve x reader, dark!alpha!Bucky x reader

Summary: Steve and Bucky would change the laws of nature if that’s what would take to make you theirs. 

or

Steve and Bucky don’t like it when you smell like Peter Parker.

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: NON-CON, breeding kink, smut, FORCED BONDING, poor Peter, language, violence, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Peter is an adult!!

MASTERLIST

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You knew something was off the moment you entered your house. Energy crackled in air as you moved in, the smell in the air absolutely Alpha, and that made no sense since you were a beta. Three different alpha scents overlapped each other, but you recognized only Peter’s, your best friend’s. You crossed the hall to your living room, your dagger in your hand. Peter’s scent was emanating such fear as you had never sensed before, and you would kill anyone who harmed a hair on his head.

You turned the last corner and entered the living room, stopping short in your tracks at the sight that met your eyes. You rushed forward, the dagger falling from your hand as you knelt in front of Peter, bloodied and tied to a chair in the center of the room.

“Peter! Oh my god, what happened Peter?” You asked, your hands cupping his puffed face. His eyes were swollen shut, a groan escaping his lips when your cold hands met his feverish skin.

“Y/n…” It seemed as if it took all his energy to whisper your name and you heart broke seeing your best friend this way.

“Hey hey, calm down. I’m here, I am gonna let you out of these ropes. Pete! Keep your eyes open!” You patted his cheek, making his eyes flutter. It took him a moment to focus on your worried face but when his eyes locked on yours, anguish and panic filled them.

“Y/n, no! Go away, run. They are here. GO!” Peter shouted, struggling in the ropes as if he just wanted to push you away from here.

“Peter, what are you talking about. Lemme cut these ropes.” You turned back to get your dagger but found it missing. Your brow furrowed, you remembered dropping it when you rushed to Peter.

“Run” Peter croaked and you looked at him over your shoulder, your body stiffening as what Peter had said finally clicked.

They are here

Whoever had hurt him was still in your house. Two alphas. You could smell their scent, somewhat familiar but you couldn’t remember exactly whom. As a Beta you didn’t pay much attention to alphas, other than those closest to you. But these must be two very strong alphas to have hurt Peter, an enhanced avenger.

You stood up cautiously, eyes scanning every part of the room. You weren’t an avenger but a trained analyst and could hold your own. Blood stained your furniture, the TV console disturbed and the small knickknacks you decorated your house with strewn about. Clear signs of struggle. You took in the two glasses sitting on your table, the dirt staining your otherwise clean rug and the disturbed cushions on the couch.  Whoever they were, they made themselves home. And they hurt Peter.

“I know you are here, come out. You know I am unarmed, so there really is no reason to hide.” You called out loud, your voice strong despite the heaviness in your heart. Anyone who could do that to Peter would very easily take you down. You crept back towards Peter, eyes still taking every inch of your house even as your hand touched his cheek. Peter whimpered, in pain or concern you didn’t know.

“Hold on for me Pete, I’m gonna get us out of here. No one’s gonna hurt you on my watch.” You told him, not even sure if he was following what you said.

When no one emerged for a couple of minutes, you wondered if it will be safe running to your kitchen to get another weapon, or the gun that you hid in your bedroom. You didn’t have time to think over why anyone would harm Peter in your house of all places. When you worked with Shield and the avengers, shit happened for no reason at all. You took a risk and turned your back to the door, kneeling before Peter again. You tested the ropes with your hands and huffed when you found them tight.

“Hey Pete, can’t you hear me? I’m here with you, all right? You just hold on for me sweetie.” Your voice cracked just a little over the pathetic whimper that escaped Peter’s mouth. You were just a little older to him, and you knew no one who would harm such a sweetheart as him. Your hand pushed his hair away from his forehead, soft over the cuts that littered his body.

“You may wanna stop touching him now, cupcake.” A voice behind you called suddenly and you whipped around, stance wide and protective in front of Peter. Before you could even say anything, your eyes widened in shock.

“Sargent Barnes?” You sputtered, absolutely not expecting him to be here. But then you sniffed the air, and his scent filled your lungs, and you finally realized why it was familiar. You worked in the same tower as him, sometimes directly with him. And if he was here, then the other scent must belong to –

“Hello Y/n, how are you?” Captain America asked, appearing from behind Bucky.

“I – what? You both?” You brain had short circuited. You thought they would be the people you would report this to, not the ones responsible for it.

“Sorry for the mess, cupcake. But Spidey-boy here gave us a good fight.” Bucky remarked, his head cocked to the side.

Anger and fear rose like bile in your chest, your face heating with emotion.

“You hurt him! Why?”

Steve ambled towards you and you shifted, your body angling in a way to hide Peter from their sight. He stopped in his tracks, brows raising and eyes narrowing.

“Don’t come near him, let us leave.” You hoped your voice was commanding but seeing Steve fold his arms across his chest in annoyance your confidence crumbled.

“No need to get so defensive cupcake. The kid’s been asking for it for ages.” Bucky scoffed, still standing between you and the exit.

“He – he is a kid. The nicest goddamn person I know. Why would you hurt him?” You questioned, your guard on. Any small sign of movement and you were ready to fight.

“Why?” Steve gave a humorless laugh. “Because he’s been stinking you up with his scent. We can’t go a day without you smelling like him, his scent clinging all over you.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the ground. What the fuck? “Excuse me?”

“Sweetie, you can’t go smelling like another alpha. We don’t like it, and we thought we needed to have a talk with the kid about it. Man to man, you know. But unfortunately, he didn’t agree with our thoughts. Poor boy thought he’d be able to fight us for your honor”

Steve’s word hit your heart like a dagger, and you stumbled back closer to Peter. You didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but it didn’t seem to be faring well for you. Steve and Bucky seemed to have lost their fucking minds, and you needed to escape. Go someone far, maybe find Tony Stark and let him know that his teammates beat up his protégé.

“I don’t understand,” You fretted.

“I’ll explain if you move away from the boy and come here. We won’t hurt you, you gotta believe me cupcake.” Bucky promised coming forward and held out his hand for you.

You shook your head and your hands found Peter who was almost unconscious with blood loss now. Steve growled when your hands stayed on Peter’s shoulders and Bucky tensed.

“The kid is suffering sweetie. You don’t want him to die, do you? Come here, and we’ll treat him. Get those cuts bandaged and some pain killers in his body. Sounds good?” Steve asked.

You looked at Peter and squeezed his shoulder. He groaned and your heart gave away. You nodded to Steve, and Bucky came forward again, his hand held out. You took it slowly and Bucky drew you closer to himself, taking you away from Peter. Your eyes followed Steve who was across the room now with a medical bag in hand, antiseptic wipes and butterfly strips spread before him.

“Please don’t hurt him, he’s my best friend.” You said softly and Bucky’s hand wrapped around your waist. You stiffened as he moved in your space and sniffed at your neck.

“We won’t hurt him anymore cupcake,” Bucky assured you. “But we gotta get his smell off you. The longer it stays on you, the more I wanna kill him.”

You peered into Bucky’s face, acutely aware of Steve tending to Peter’s wounds from the corner of your eyes.

“What’s happening here? I don’t understand why you’re doing whatever you’re doing. You’re supposed to be the good guys” You said and heard Steve chuckling.

“We are the good guys, but we get mad when teenage guys who can’t even grow a beard start touching what doesn’t belong to them. He put his hands on you, on what’s ours. We couldn’t let that go, not when he refused to stop seeing you.”

Your nose scrunched in confusion and fear. You were not stupid enough to try and fight them. You were an analyst because you could judge a situation and how dangerous it is. Right now, your odds of getting away with Peter were next to none, especially with him in such a delicate condition. However, you still didn’t understand what they meant.

“I don’t belong to you. You can’t claim me” You countered; your eyes now trained on Peter who flinched with every swipe of medicine.

“Can’t we?” Bucky whispered right in your ears making you shiver at the close proximity. You placed a hand on his chest and pushed, but he barely even moved.

“Of course, you can’t. I am not an omega. You…you both are alphas. You can’t claim a beta.”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other knowingly and shared a small, secret laugh. Bucky had maneuvered himself behind you now, both arms holding yours and securing them in front of you. His chin rested on your head, the slight stubble grazing your neck.

“You’re not an omega yet.” Bucky told you and hugged you to himself and your breath sharpened.  

Steve finished patching Peter up and you were thankful he had been honest and gentle. He offered him some water from a glass and Peter gulped it greedily, also swallowing the pills Steve offered. His eyes were now open, and he looked at you across the room in Bucky’s arms with sadness in his eyes.

“I am so sorry Y/n, I should have done better to protect you.” He apologized and your eyes filled with tears. You wanted to run across in his arms, sooth his fears like you’d done so many times before.

“She’s not yours to protect kid, I thought we made it clear.” Steve grunted in displeasure and Peter scowled at him. Even tied up and at their mercy with wounds still dripping slowly, he managed to convey anger and hatred in his glance. Not an ounce of fear in his eyes and you knew if he were free, he’d be standing before you, being your shield.

“Mr. Stark was right when he said you are dangerous. When you believe something is right you never consider the consequences or the lives you’ll harm. You are no hero Captain, and I am sorry I ever considered you one.” Peter spat and you almost smiled.

Steve looked at Peter with a smirk on his face and then walked towards you and Bucky. He stopped right in front of you, looking Peter dead in his eyes before dipping down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You struggled in Bucky’s arm, whining under Steve’s lips that didn’t let up until you were almost out of oxygen. He pulled back and you gasped, eyes stinging due to his assault.

“Doesn’t matter what you feel kid, ‘cause we got our girl in our arms while you’re tied up helpless.” Steve taunted.

“Please, I don’t know what you want. You can’t have me. I am a beta.” You sobbed.

Steve cupped your face and rubbed his nose to yours, cooing at you. Bucky was still holding you to himself and you could feel his hardness against your back.

“Baby, we know you are not an omega. At least not yet. But you are ours, and we have a solution. Don’t we Buck?” Steve said and you felt Bucky nod. Your eyes desperately locked on Peter’s, both of you feeling helpless.

Bucky handed you into Steve’s embrace and pulled out of his pocket a small metal case. Flipping it open he drew out a syringe filled to brim with some blue drug. Your gut clenched in fear as you looked at it, already knowing you didn’t’ want this thing anywhere near you.

“Don’t look so scared cupcake, it’s very safe. Hydra used to use it all the time, but we still had Bruce check this out and he says its safe.” Bucky said to you and you shifted in Steve’s arms.

“Dr Banner is involved with you?” You choked out. You always liked him, and this betrayal of trust cut even deeper.

“Oh, he doesn’t know this is for you. He’s a mad scientist who would research anything in the name of science. Don’t really care much about the consequences, do they?” Bucky mused. “You don’t need to worry much; it won’t hurt for long. One dose and your dynamic will start shifting. You’ll be an omega soon enough.”

Both Peter and you started at the news and your struggles renewed.

“Please don’t do this to me. Why are you doing this? You could have literally any omega out there who will be proud to have you as her alphas.” You cried and Steve shushed you like a mother does to her baby, his hand caressing your head gently.

“We don’t want them, we want you. You are strong and beautiful and a perfect fit for us. You’ll be a great mate and mother to our pups.” Steve said.

Your eyes blurred with tears, body feeling exhausted from your useless struggles. Peter was shuffling around in the chair to no avail. You felt corner and trapped, and you felt useless as an analyst. No part of your training could prepare you for a forced transformation at the hands of the strongest alphas on the planet who wanted to mate you.

“You don’t have to do this. There is a reason nature made me a beta. You can’t do this to me.” You sobbed in Steve’s chest and your tears seeped into his shirt.

“Cupcake, nature makes mistakes. Steve and I were supposed to die seventy years ago, yet look at us now, still alive. You are meant to be ours, our girl, our mate. And we’ll correct nature’s mistakes.”

You shouted as Bucky injected the syringe into your squirming body without warning, your screams of pain mixing with Peter’s protests. Liquid fire raced through your veins and you writhed, losing all control and senses. All you felt was heat and pain, starting from your toes to your head. You could hear your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, your throat raw from your screams. It was never ending, the inferno that was running across your body, changing your biology in its wake. Your every cell seemed to light up and turn itself inside out, your skin crawling. You scratched at yourself and your hands were held down along with your legs, eyes wide open and yet not seeing anything.

You didn’t know if it lasted minutes or days, the pain setting in your bones. Your surrounding was the same and yet the world had changed. You were shivering uncontrollably, sobbing incessantly, and crying out gibberish. Your eyes slowly focused as pain started dissipating bit by bit, your heart thumping irregularly and fast. You were on the floor of your living room, body held immobile with someone’s weight. You whined and they stirred, getting off you and suddenly you were sitting, a glass of water thrust in your face. You gulped it down, the cool liquid doing little to sooth the burn that still simmered deep inside you.

As you breathed, you suddenly gagged and heard someone moving around you. You were choking on air, the scents in the room smothering you. Your new formed omega senses picked up the spicy tangs of alphas and it made you dizzy. Someone was calling your name, yet it was all you could do to keep breathing and not faint again.

“Open the goddamn windows! She’s overwhelmed!” Someone shouted and soon fresh air breezed inside, easing your discomfort a bit. You held your chest, curling in on yourself and breathed deeply.

“Use your mouth to breath sweetie”

You did as commanded and eventually your breathing got easier. You sat with your head between your folded knees for a long time, trying to remember what happened. After what felt like forever, you gazed up and around you, coming face to face with three worried alphas.

“Y/n?” The young alpha tied to the chair called. You looked at him. You knew him, and the others too. Steadily your memories came back, and your eyes filled with tears, and you form shook as heart wrenching sobs wracked your body. Bucky crawled to you and very slowly reached out, his arm curling around your shoulder. You wanted to push him off, curse him away but your body instinctively leaned into him, seeking his warmth and protection.

“Shh cupcake, I got you. I got you baby” He whispered and kissed your hair.

Another pair of arms wrapped around you; a head tucked into your neck. Steve rubbed soothing circled in your sides, his breath washing over you. You were cocooned in their warmth and drenched in their scent, the nature of your biology bending to their wills and calming your racing heart. Soon enough your sobs turn to little sniffles and Bucky wiped your nose with the hem of his t-shirt.

“That’s it, omega, you’re doing so good. Just breath. We’re right here.” Steve said in your ear and you quivered at the timber of his voice.

You gradually raised your head up and the two alphas shifted a little to allow you space. Your eyes darted around your house as if seeing it for the first time, unintentionally falling on things you would need for your nest. Most of all, your eyes set on Peter who looked at you in both pain and wonder.

“Pete?” Your voice was broken, and you saw his eyes close, two streams of tear travelling down his face.

“I am so sorry” He said, helpless and feeling like a failure. He had failed his best friend, the one person who loved him unconditionally.

You heard two growls and two sets of arms on you. Bucky and Steve were baring their teeth at Peter, their bodies ready to attack. You made a pleading noise in your throat and they both looked at you, softening.

“Don’t hurt him” You begged.

Steve pulled you closer and buried his head in your neck, scenting you. His chest rumbled beneath your hand and he purred at your scent filled his lungs.

“Oh god, her scent Buck.” He mumbled, his nose tracing your jugular and Bucky joined in. They took their time with it, rubbing their cheek and neck all over you.

You were feeling overwhelmed, your omega body not used to the sudden flood of emotions and smell. Every nerve ending in your body was taut with tension and your every sense was enhanced by ten times. Their purrs washed over you, and the vibration of their body sent bolts across your spine that settled between your legs. You squeezed your thighs as you felt wetness coat your pussy, your temperature rising. Your body flushed, your scent getting heavier while you started panting. You didn’t need to be an omega to know what was happening, you’d seen it happen to plenty omegas before. You were like a young omega who had just presented and was undergoing her first heat.

Your scent wafted across the room and all the way through the house and you clenched your fist tight, nails digging into your palms. Pain such as you had never know bloomed in your abdomen, cramping your muscles and making you cry out.

“Y/n, what’s happening to her?” Peter shouted and you reached out a hand to him, body too exhausted and dazed to move much. Steve glowered and took your hand in his, the heat in your body burning his like a furnace.

“She’s in heat” Bucky rasped, his voice husky with arousal. Your heat was so powerful that it was sending them into an early rut. He moaned when his tongue swiped across your scent glands, tasting you. “Our omega”

“Ours for taking, ours for filling. You’ll take our mark and our pups” Steve vowed and you cried out when you felt both their hands roaming your body. You wanted to move away, tell them no but your body was at odds with your mind. You were vulnerable under their hands, your presentation craving their touch even as your mind told you to run. You convulsed under the feeling of their hands over your clothed breast and ass, moaning loud into the air. You had no control over your actions, and you let them paw at you unwillingly.

“Don’t touch her! Leave her alone!” Peter shouted and the three of you came out of your trances, having completely forgotten that he was here. You stared into his eyes, and he saw in them what you really felt. Your scent surrounded him and with your gaze locked on him, he squirmed.

“Look at that Steve, the kid wants our omega. You see cupcake, your best friend is getting hard seeing you being handled by us” Bucky almost sang, his hands tweaking your nipples through your shirt and you wheezed out a moan.

“See and learn kid, how to take your woman. And when you do that, know this is the only time you’ll see her this way. She’s ours and by the time this night is over, she’ll be proudly wearing our mark.” Steve said, deftly unbuttoning your shirt.

Peter and you kept looking at each other, Steve and Bucky stripping you down bare. You were too far gone to feel embarrassed at being naked in the plain view of three men. Bucky touched your tummy, rubbing his hands over your skin that made you close your eyes in pleasure. Steve’s mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking with vengeance while Bucky kissed you. You never stood a chance against them, your body dictating your every move. You kissed back and bucked against their bodies, sweat collecting where your bodies touched. Your voice rose an octave higher when Bucky’s metal hand reached between your thighs, his cold fingers collecting your slick and spreading it around you.

“Oh cupcake, look how wet you are. Look how pretty you are all spread out for us.” He groaned in your mouth.

Steve who was just done sucking a hickey below your collarbone shimmied down your body, nestling himself between your thighs. His lust blown eyes met yours and the intensity in them made your walls flutter. Maintaining the eye contact, he licked a broad strip with the flat of his tongue and you jerked under him, back arching with sensations going around your body like fireworks.

Bucky took of your hand and wrapped it around his cock, showing you how to pump it. You never noticed him getting naked, nor did you care. Steve was ruining your cunt with his talented tongue, swirling it in circles around your clit while two of his fingers delved in your heat. The coil in you stretched to breaking point, finally snapping when Bucky bit down on your nipple causing you to howl your release in the air. Steve rubbed you gently, bringing you down from your high, his face covered in your juices and you clenched hard.

To your surprise Steve leaned over you and pulled Bucky into a dirty French kiss, sharing your taste with him. Bucky fisted his hair, his tongue moving in and out of Steve’s mouth and the sight only made you hotter.

“So, this is what heaven tastes like” he muttered, and you whimpered. Steve was taking off his shirt and Bucky took his time pumping his fingers into you, stretching you open. “Gotta loosen you up for both of us cupcake. You need to be nice and stretchy to take out knot.”

You never realized you were fondling your own breasts, trying to find relief from the heat that was centered in your core. You needed them to fill you, stuff you until you couldn’t take it anymore. You saw Bucky look at his arousal coated hands that glistened.

“Steve, we have been so cruel. Look at the poor kid” He said, and you and Steve looked at Peter who was in agony. His eyes were large and locked on you, both sorry and aroused.

“Give him a taste Buck, because he will never get the chance again.” Steve said, now naked and stroking his large cock. Bucky got on his knees and moved closer to Peter, his wet fingers right before Peter’s lips. Your mouth was parted in surprise, a strangled sound escaping you as Peter leaned down to pull Bucky’s fingers in his mouth and sucked. His eyes closed at your taste and you found yourself burning more than ever.

“Please” you begged, to all of them.

“She liked it Steve, look at our girl. You like him getting a taste of you? That make you hot, cupcake?” Bucky teased you and you nodded.

“She needs our knot Bucky; she looks like she’ll combust. You want us sweetie? Tell me how much you want us” Steve ordered, straddling your lower half, his hard cock right over your entrance. He brushed it over your swollen clit, collecting your juices and covering himself in them.

“Need your cock alphas. I need you inside me. Please” You had no dignity left and you were crying as you begged. Steve aligned himself and pushed inside slowly, your body welcoming him.

“Oh god, look at you sweetie, so perfect for me. Look how you suck me inside your cunt and clench hard like you don’t want me to leave.”

He began thrusting, his cock hitting you in that special spot that made your breath hitch and eyes roll. You clawed at the rug, your nails digging inside as you gave moan after moan.

“Open up cupcake” Bucky ordered, his cock slapping your cheek. You opened up and he went straight in, sitting still for a moment to let you adjust. They thrusted in you in a rhythm, pushing and pulling in perfect sync. Steve played with your bud and your whines vibrated up Bucky’s cock so that he fucked your face harder.

“Just like that honey, just like that. Mine. Ours”

Your second orgasm came suddenly and took your breath, and your walls clamped so hard on Steve that he cursed loudly before absolutely letting go and thrusting like a demon in you.

“Gonna give you my knot, gonna make you round with my pups. God you feel so good baby”

He jerked inside you, his knot swelling at the base and stretching you until you felt it would tear you apart. Heat bloomed in your womb, and Steve’s release coated your walls as the same time that Bucky came down your throat.

“Oh cupcake, you are so so good.” Bucky said, his hand caressing your hair. He held you body in his arms, tangling his legs with Steve and yours. You were still locked together with Steve, his knot holding his cum inside. “Gonna fill you up with my seed after Stevie is done. Gonna knot you my little omega.”

 +++++

The night was long and strenuous, your body bent into shapes you didn’t know it could take. Bucky and Steve knotted you multiple times and your addled mind welcome them each time. Peter looked at your union with them in desolation, sitting in his ruined pants. He had come in his pants, not being able to help himself. He wouldn’t meet your eyes but when Bucky let him taste you again, he opened his mouth like an obedient pet.

You were sleeping soundly before the couch, a temporary nest of blankets and your alphas’ clothes around you. Two fresh marks decorated your neck, sealing your fate with Steve and Bucky. They knew the true battle would begin once you came out of your heat stupor, but they can handle you together. You belonged to them. They had claimed you against what nature said. You were theirs.

“That’s how you take a girl kid.” Bucky said as he cut Peter free finally. The poor boy was both mentally and physically exhausted and Steve had to steady him lest he fall.

“You won’t look at her again will you?” Steve asked and Peter shook his head in dejection. He had failed you and your friendship. He was to be blamed. As if Steve read his mind, he patted his back gently. “It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. She was meant to be ours regardless of everything that happened. I am sorry about how the evening went, but if it were your mate you would understand.”

Peter’s shoulders slumped and he had no more tears to lose. He looked pleadingly at them.

“Don’t hurt her, please. She doesn’t deserve that.” He said.

Bucky smiled at Peter is assurance.

“We look after our own, kid. She’ll be fine”

 +++++

TAGLIST IS OPEN FOR ALL CHARACTERS

[iam93percentstardust]

Haii so i have a promot for you, it’s stuckony and it’s based around a carrie Underwood song called “ Renegade Runaway “

So basically Steve and Bucky are outlaw, who rob trains, banks, and gamble

Tony is a sharffes and teacher kid, who is also one hell of a gunslinger (like Doc holiday,bat masterson, and Wyatt earp), he’s also a blacksmith

Also happy early birthday! 💙

Thank you for the birthday wishes! This ended up being a lot sadder than I originally intended and I wasn't able to include everything, but I hope it still lives up to expectations!

As always, this fic is also on ao3

~

Tony has his pistol out almost before the door closes behind him. He peers into the darkness of the yard behind the smithy, silently complaining about his eyes taking too long to adjust from the bright fires to the gathering twilight. It puts him at a disadvantage for whoever is waiting out there for him.

“Aw darlin’, is that any way to greet your two favorite outlaws?” someone drawls.

Tony snorts and holsters the pistol again. “Two outlaws, you might be, but my favorites? Far from it,” he snarks.

Bucky Barnes steps into the light spilling out from the window, hand dramatically placed over his heart. “Tony, that cuts me to the quick. Really, the cruelty of your words, they break my heart.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony says, unimpressed. He turns his back on Bucky and locks the smithy door. Peter will leave through the front when he’s finished sweeping and extinguished the lights. Everything else is already stored in the backroom for the night, so there’s no reason he needs to worry about leaving the door unlocked, though he certainly could. Timely isn’t the sort of town that invites trouble, not like some of the lawless towns further west.

When he turns back around, Bucky has moved closer, nearly looming over him. Tony leans back against the door, letting Bucky press against him. Bucky will do it anyway, it’s easier to just give in to him now instead of putting up a fight they both know he doesn’t want.

“You gonna apologize for bein’ so mean?” Bucky breathes into his ear.

“No,” Tony says flatly, crossing his arms. “It’s the honest truth.”

It’s not. Nearly everyone in Timely knows Tony’s sweet on Bucky and his partner, who must be around here somewhere since Bucky mentioned both of them. But it wouldn’t do to be too easy for them. He’s not one of Natasha’s girls after all, giggly and flirtatious and willing to turn their skirts up for a little bit of coin. He likes to make his boys work to get him soft and smiling.

“Now that’s just an outright lie,” someone else says. Tony turns his head to see Steve’s bright blue eyes much closer than he’d expected given that he’d only sensed one of them in the yard earlier. “You love us.”

“Don’t,” Tony denies, turning his head in the other direction so he doesn’t have to see either of them. Steve may be right, Tony isn’t nearly as annoyed by them as he pretends, but loving the two of them makes his life so very hard that it’s easier to pretend he doesn’t have any feelings for them.

“Tony,” Steve murmurs.

Tony stubbornly refuses to look at them. These two outlaws waltz into town all too rarely, typically on the heels of some mess that’ll raise the rewards on their heads yet again, and turn Tony’s life upside down for the brief time they’re in Timely, only to break his heart when they inevitably leave. Sometimes, he wishes he’d never met them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers eventually, keeping his eyes fixed on the side of the saloon down the street. “The sheriff’s in town tonight. If he catches wind of you—you know Howard wants to be the one to bring you in.”

“Your father’s on a wild goose chase, honey,” Bucky says. “He got word we were hiding out in Howling Canyon.”

“Are you?”

“Do we look like we’re in Howling Canyon?” Steve asks amusedly.

“No. I meant when you’re not—” He stops, biting back the last few words. When they’re not in his bed, he means, but he can’t bring himself to say that. After an awkward pause, he finishes, “When you’re not in town.”

“No,” Steve assures him. “We’re staying—”

“Don’t tell me where,” Tony interrupts, finally turning back to look at them. They both look worried, and he wonders if they know how tired he is of this game they’ve been playing for five years. “You know I’ll have to tell Howard if he asks.”

Not that Howard would. The sheriff is one of the few people who doesn’t know that his son houses the two outlaws when they’re in Timely. He couldn’t even imagine that his son would dare defy him under his nose like that. But both Steve and Bucky know what happens when Tony doesn’t jump to Howard’s every order. They were the ones who took him to Dr. Banner’s after all, after Howard broke his arm for taking too long to finish the horseshoes for Jericho.

Steve’s eyes are stormy at the reminder of Howard’s wrath. Bucky’s mouth is set in a tight line. Neither of them approve of Howard. They’ve told Tony once before that they would take him away from here if only he would let them. But he won’t. There’s too much keeping him in Timely: his mother and Rhodey, even young Peter, who’s only been apprenticed to him for a few months. He can’t just go gallivanting off into the sunset, no matter how badly he wants to. And besides, he knows that the only reason they ask is so that he can get away from Howard. He doesn’t delude himself there. They’d let him go with them just out of range of Howard’s reach and then they’d cut him loose. It’s pity that makes them ask, not—not anything else.

“Just—” He sighs and ducks out from under Bucky’s arm. “Come on. Howard isn’t stupid. He’ll figure out you’re not in Howling Canyon eventually, and I’d like both your cocks at least once before he does.”

~

Tony once had aspirations of being one of the best gunslingers in the west. He had the best aim this side of the Mississippi and he was quick. He’d been planning on making a name for himself, same as his father had.

Bucky’s bullet through his left thigh had put an end to that dream real quick.

He’d been young—hardly even an adult—foolhardy, and unwilling to listen to Jarvis’ warnings that he wasn’t ready to take on Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who’d been terrorizing the towns in their small territory for the last three years. He’d been so convinced that he would be the one to bring them in and collect on the bounty. He’d studied their movements, known how they thought, and when Timely had gotten word that the two outlaws had robbed a bank in Faircreek, he’d ridden off on his own toward Harshaw instead of Tombstone like all the evidence pointed to.

He’d been right; the trail to Tombstone had been a false one. But he hadn’t had long to rest on his laurels because he’d been noticed. Steve and Bucky hadn’t been as lax in their vigilance as he’d assumed and they’d lain in wait for him, ambushed him, and ultimately shot him.

To this day, he doesn’t know what drove the two outlaws to take him in instead of leaving him out there to die in the desert, but they had. They’d carefully nursed him back to health, taken care of him when his injury had led to fever, and eventually, after nearly two months together, brought him to their bed with sweet words and sweeter kisses. He’d thought he would have done anything for them after that night, but the next morning, they’d sent him back on his way to Timely with nothing more than a promise that they’d be dropping in to check on him. It had been kind, though the damage had already been done. Tony’s injury ensured he’d never be the gunslinger he’d once dreamt of and his heart had been shattered. He’d apprenticed with Happy, taken up blacksmithing as a trade, and moved out of his parents’ home and into a small house not far from the smithy as his bad leg kept him from walking any great distances.

And when Bucky and Steve had kept their promise and stopped by his house to see him, well, his resolve to send them packing had withered. He’d made sure no one had noticed them and welcomed them inside, his poor heart still beating against his ribs in the pattern of their names.

~

They love him, he thinks, or at least they love him as best as they can, which is to say they don’t love him as much as he loves them. They certainly don’t love him enough to take him with them. And he understands—he does, despite what Rhodey thinks. His bad leg is a hindrance to outlaws such as themselves, particularly when it isn’t like they have a home base they could leave him out while they go out to commit whatever crime has struck their fancy. No, they’ve been nomads for as long as Tony has known them, never tied down to any one place, and he’s grateful that they at least love him enough to stay in this area instead of moving on to greener pastures.

He checks that the street is clear and then hurries them into his home. It’s changed slightly since the last time Steve and Bucky were in Timely. Pepper gifted him with a rug to go in front of the fireplace six months ago and Peter’s aunt made him a series of sketches of the view from the top of Howling Canyon that he hung in the kitchen. But other than that, the house is much the same as it’s always been, and he isn’t surprised when neither Steve nor Bucky pay any attention to the changes in favor of following him to the bedroom.

They strip him in silence, hands so gentle he’d call them reverent if he didn’t know any better. But he does know better. They don’t love him enough to be reverent. Reverence is saved for each other, for how Steve looks at Bucky in the early dawn when he thinks they’re both still sleeping, for Bucky saving Steve an extra cup of coffee, for the way they know how to tack each other’s horses just as well as they know their own. Reverence isn’t saved for him.

But he treats themreverently. He’s always treated them that way, since the night they took him to their bed. He’s never known any other way to love. They had been his first, the ones to ruin him for all others, and a small part of him hates them for that even as he kisses them hungrily, savoring these few moments he gets to spend with them.

He goes to his knees for them, worships Bucky’s cock with his mouth while Steve undresses, then lays down for Steve to open him up. He lets them fuck him, moans their names while they whisper praises in his ear, and pretends that this is enough, that he doesn’t want more. He imagines it though, imagines Steve lifting him onto Nomad and following Bucky out of town, never to return.

Bucky falls asleep when they’re done—he always does—so Steve is the one who stands and finds a washcloth from somewhere in the house. He wipes the three of them off and then lays down on his side, facing Tony.

“You’re sad tonight,” he says quietly.

“No,” Tony denies. He doesn’t want them to know that he wants more, that he’d do just about anything to get it. They’ll only feel bad that they can’t give him what he wants, like it’s any fault of theirs.

“You are,” Steve insists. “You try to hide it, but you are.”

“Steve…”

“I won’t ask you.” Steve’s own eyes are sad as he reaches out to run delicate fingers over Tony’s face. “I know you wouldn’t tell me anyway. That’s okay; you’re entitled to your secrets, sweetheart.”

There’s something terribly earnest in Steve’s expression, something that Tony doesn’t think he’s seen before. And he’s so close to blurting it out, begging Steve for something he can’t have. He swallows the words back with difficulty and asks instead, “What did you two do this time?”

Steve shrugs as best as he can. “A train.”

“A—” Tony stills. “You didn’t. Steve, you couldn’t. You’ll bring the Marshals down on your heads.”

“Had to,” Steve says casually. “Was the only way to get enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Gold,” Bucky says from behind him, startling him.

It takes a moment for the word to sink in, but his breath comes faster as he realizes just what they’ve done. “You didn’t,” he repeats, sitting up. He scrambles to the end of the bed, as far away from Steve and Bucky as he can get. The outlaws sit up as well, leaning against the headboard as they watch him warily. “What were the two of you thinking? No, don’t answer that. I know exactly what you were thinking: you weren’t. Because if you were, you would have known better. Forget the Marshals, you’ll bring the whole damn army down on your heads. How could you have been so stupid?”

“We were thinking we’d like to get a house,” Steve says, cutting him off.

“A—a house?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky agrees. “We found ourselves a little patch of land in California we’d like to settle down in. Needed one last robbery to get us enough money to buy it.”

Tony’s heart stops beating, he swears it does. “California,” he repeats faintly.

“Sure, they’ll never think to look for us in California.”

Bucky sounds so calm, as though he can’t see that Tony’s heart is breaking in front of them. How can he be so cruel? How can he just causally mention that they’re leaving him forever, as though the last five years mean nothing to them?

“When are you leaving?” he manages, and it shocks him how calm he sounds when he feels as though his grief is visible from the stars.

“Tomorrow,” Steve says. There’s something careful in the way he looks at Tony, like he at least might have some idea of what’s going through Tony’s head.

Tony repeats, “Tomorrow.” He nods, blinking furiously to try to clear his eyes of the treacherous tears he can feel welling up. He can’t let them know. They’re leaving tomorrow and he doesn’t want them to go. He knows it would have happened eventually. The lawless west is shrinking more and more each day. It’s only a matter of time before the law catches up to them. Their only option is to leave and go somewhere no one knows them. But does it have to be so soon? He’d thought they would have more time.

“So this is goodbye, then,” he says, twisting the bedcovers in his hands. He can’t look at them, too afraid they’ll know what’s racing through his head if he does.

“…Goodbye?” Steve asks. He sounds puzzled. Tony hates that. What right does he have to be confused? That’s for Tony, seeing as how he’s the one who’s been left out of the loop during all this. God above, how long have they been planning this? It must have been at least a year in the making.

“Yes, goodbye,” he says. “One last fuck to see you off, right?”

“One last… Tony,” Bucky says sharply, “do you think we’re plannin’ on leavin’ you here?”

Tony’s heart stops for the second time in as many minutes. “You’re not?” he asks, daring to peek at them. Steve looks horrified, Bucky thunderous as he leans forward to tug Tony into his arms. Tony doesn’t resist, too tired of pretending, too confused by the twists this conversation has taken to argue. Steve curls up against Bucky’s side, carding gentle fingers through Tony’s hair.

“Sweetheart, did you think we weren’t gone on you?” Steve asks, kissing his forehead. “We’ve been fallin’ for you since you figured out where we were goin’ and chased us down.”

“But you never asked me to come with you.”

“S’pose that’s my fault,” Bucky says gruffly. He gingerly touches the scar on Tony’s leg where Bucky’s bullet had ripped through him. “We saw how much pain you were in an’ we couldn’t bear to make it any worse. An’ that’s just what would have happened if you’d spent every night out there with us. We wanted to keep you safe, thought you’d be happier if you weren’t always in pain.”

“I wanted you,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to the underside of Bucky’s jaw. “I didn’t want to be left behind.”

“Yeah, we, uh, we get that now,” Steve mutters sheepishly. “Tony, say you’ll come with us this time. Don’t make us go off on our own this time. We want you to come, can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it.”

He should argue. He should remind them that in the five years they’ve been riding off and leaving him at home, he’s built a life. He has a business and an apprentice and a little house that he likes. He’s not the wide-eyed child he once was, dreaming of adventure. But then, neither are Steve and Bucky, if they really do mean that they’re going to get to California and settle down.

“Darlin’?”

~

The next morning, Peter arrives at the smithy to find the backdoor locked and the fire cold. He frowns; it’s not like Tony to still be home at this hour. He turns on his heel and heads to Tony’s house. It’s as dark as the smithy is though it doesn’t look like anything is out of place.

Tony is nowhere to be seen. He wonders for an instant if Tony spent the night at Rhodey’s, as he sometimes does when it’s been too long between Steve and Bucky’s visits (though Peter isn’t supposed to know anything about the outlaws). He turns to leave, planning on heading over to Rhodey’s to ask if he’s seen Tony this morning, only to catch a glimpse of something on the kitchen table, glinting in the early morning sunlight pouring in from the door.

Curious, he wanders over to find a single gold coin—and a letter addressed to him. Peter immediately pockets the coin and then opens the letter. It’s written in Tony’s messy scrawl and he reads it eagerly, hoping it’ll tell him where Tony’s gone.

Peter,

I hope you’ve spotted this. The coin is for you. Under the bed, there’s a pouch full of more coins, but those are for Happy. They should be enough to drag Happy out of the quiet life to finish your apprenticeship. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but it was time to move on.

If anyone asks where I’ve gone, tell them I’ve run away to California.

Tony

[steve-rogers-ruined-men-for-me]

Teach Me

Summary: Bucky’s worried about you overworking yourself at your teaching job. 

Warnings: some swearing, cute couple shit

Words: 2014k

A/N: this is my first full fic! I’ve really missed writing just for fun and I have a few more fic ideas and hc ideas in the works! please please please comment and let me know what you think! 

No matter what, you always came to bed when Bucky did. Sometimes you stayed up on your phone or reading but you always at least sat on the bed with him. He knew that you had a big week coming up, with your principal coming to observe you, midterms drawing closer, and your students struggling with the new curriculum the district was imposing. 

You were a high school English teacher and Bucky had met you when your school had put on an assembly about the history of the Avengers. He had noticed you in the back of the auditorium, wearing a soft blue dress and encouraging your students to ask him questions about his prosthetic. He shyly asked Tony to see if he could contact the school later and get your number. He had rolled his eyes at him and had walked up to you and asked in plain English, “The Manchurian Candidate over there wants to take you to dinner. If I set up the reservation and promise to make him show up, will you go?” Your jaw had dropped and you had numbly agreed. James Buchanan Barnes wanted to go on a date with you? Despite your doubts regarding the reality of the situation, you showed up outside the quiet Italian restaurant and the rest was history.

Bucky smiled at the memory of you dressed in a red silk jumpsuit with your hair braided back. You looked like a modern version of the girls he flirted with during the forties. Only, back then, he had been wondering how to get up their skirts but now he was more concerned with taking his time getting the jumpsuit off your gorgeous body. He felt a twitch between his legs and, smirking, shook the feeling off. He padded down to the kitchen, thinking you had gotten hungry. When that search yielded no you, he wandered through the rest of the downstairs. He noted that your car hadn’t left the driveway and checked the calendar on the fridge to see if he had the opening shift at the mechanic’s tomorrow (he mercifully did not). But he took note of how small your writing was on your to-do list for Monday. 

Feeling a pang in his chest, he remembered how he had begged you to let him have your full attention on Friday and Saturday.  While you’d reveled in your domestic bliss, by noon on Sunday, you had been buried in your office with your laptop, surrounded by books, papers, and highlighters. Smiling to himself, he realized where you were. He headed up to the attic loft, converted into your office. The walls were a soft gray and the couch the two of you had bought for your tiny first apartment was squeezed against one wall. 

Bucky’s heart tightened as he saw you sprawled on the couch, wrapped in one of his massive flannels. Your desk light was on and the desk was messier than he’d ever seen it. Your blinking phone alerted him to the fact that you’d set an alarm for midnight, but had been so tired you’d slept through it, a given considering you were working yourself to the bone and it was two a.m. Afraid to ruin your organizational system on your desk, he returned the pens and highlighters to the little decorative cups you kept them in, saved every file you had open on your laptop before closing it, and pushed the papers in imminent danger of falling onto the floor farther back on the desk. 

Content that he had lessened the burden of cleaning you’d have to do tomorrow, he crouched next to the couch. Gently smoothing a stray hair out of your face, he whispered, “baby...come on, get up, let’s go to bed.” You opened your eyes slowly and then jerked upright, sending your phone flying and Bucky scrambling backwards. 

“What time is it!” you cried, frantic. You ran towards your desk, frantically pinging your phone from your Apple Watch. Your clock on your desk blinked back 2:05 a.m. at you. Bucky picked up your incessantly beeping phone and handed it to you as you slumped in your desk chair, head in your hands. 

“I just wanted to get this stupid assessment plan done,” you whispered. You hugged his flannel tight around you as tears started to fall. Bucky turned your swivel chair so you were facing him as he knelt in between your legs. You dropped your upper body and rested your forehead on his shoulder as you sobbed. The weight of turning in grades, making assignments, checking in with your students to make sure they were doing okay, it was weighing on you. Bucky had noticed you sleeping less and drinking more coffee but hadn’t truly realized the toll it was taking on you. Kicking himself for making you spend time with him instead of alleviating your burdens at work, he pulled you out of the chair to sit between his legs, curling you into him and rocking gently. After a few minutes, you tilted your chin up and scooched back. Sitting criss cross between his legs, you cupped your chin and closed your eyes.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck,” you said sadly. You tugged on a loose button on your sleeve, looking like a lost puppy. Bucky knew how much you adored teaching and how much you loved your students. You were always baking treats for them when they did well on exams, buying bagels so that they could eat breakfast, and extending deadlines for the kids who worked. He knew that the American school system had changed since the 1940s and when you had shown him what you had to teach in a week and just how much time and energy went into lesson planning, he almost formed his own teachers union to advocate for you. 

When he found out your dismal salary, he had to take a walk. He spent an hour with Tony railing against your pay and the administrators who punished you for the test scores of students that you had no control over. Tony sat him down after an hour of not being able to get a word in edgewise and finally pledged to harass the local school boards (and the Board of Education if they would call him back) about raising teacher salaries. Bucky had walked home to you pouring over birthday cards your sixth period juniors had given you because they’d gotten a tip that it was your birthday. (Peter helped Bucky hack your Google Classroom). He felt a wave of pride come over him as he looked at you, his selfless girl, thrilled that she was having an impact on the kids she loved the most. You getting so down on yourself broke his heart. 

“What’s wrong with your assessment plan?” he asked, intertwining your hands with his. You looked up angrily. “What ISN’T wrong with it is a better question!” you cried. “The district made the test up and it’s on a fucking scantron because what fucking isn’t these days and it’s not taking into account the fact that school is not the main focus for so many of these kids that have to fucking work and help support their siblings and all they are is numbers on a fucking piece of paper that tells you nothing about the effectiveness of my teaching or the district’s ability to educate them as a whole!” Bucky blinked rapidly as you huffed. You didn’t get angry very often, but when you did and you started to monologue, he understood why you received a distinction with your English degree. 

“Baby,” he started gently, “can I ask you something you may not like?” He knew that you were a planner and that the odds were you were beating yourself up about a task that had taken your coworkers thirty minutes to do. You always wanted to do right by your kids but if you didn’t start sleeping and taking care of yourself, you were useless to everyone, including yourself. You looked up at Bucky through teary eyes.

“Are you going to ask me if the plan’s done and I’m just being picky?” you asked in a small voice. Bucky stood up, taking you with him. He pressed your frame against him, putting your arms over his shoulders and resting his hands on your waist. He stayed to sway slightly, trying to lull you back to sleep and to try to help quiet your mind. “I wouldn’t say picky I just...look. I’m being selfish. I want you to come to bed with me. I want you to play with my hair and whisper that you love me when you think I’m out cold asleep,” he gushed, noting the slight blush that crept up your cheeks. “You are incredible. Your admin are literally fucking stupid, doll. Nothing you do will change that. You are trying your best and if you think that your kids won’t benefit from the 12 different plans you’ve cooked up, then you’re crazy. Your kids don’t need a version 13, baby. They need you whole, in one piece, and ready to fight for them if they need.” He kissed your forehead, trying to ease your creased brow. Giving in to his ministrations, you sighed. You thought about how this plan should’ve probably only taken an hour. But then you rewrote the plan for the week based off of if your kids took a lot of time on the test, a little time, got anxious during it, caught on fire during it, committed larceny during the test and you had to contact the police. You knew it was overkill but you also knew that budget cuts were coming, contracts were up at the end of this year, and you and Bucky were saving to buy a house instead of living in a condo forever. 

“Buck?” you whispered. He lifted his chin off your head and looked down.

“Yeah, doll?” 

You felt the exhaustion settle into you all at once. “Can we go to bed?” 

Picking you up and putting you in a fireman’s carry, Bucky held you the whole way down to your bedroom. He pulled out a shirt of his for you to sleep in while you brushed your teeth and rinsed off in the shower. He walked in right as you were towelling off and he slipped it over your head with ease. He offered to blow dry your hair but you declined, favoring slipping into a warm sleep with him. He cuddled you close, forgoing asking you to play with his hair in favor of trying to hug all the pride he felt about you into your body via osmosis. Your head was resting soft on his chest, one arm curled protectively around his torso. His metal arm was tucked up and around your shoulders, keeping you comfortable. His flesh hand caressed your arm around him to remind you that he would always be there for you. He loved you more than anything. As your breathing evened and his hand on your side rose in gentle time with your breath, he decided that he was going to call Tony tomorrow. He knew a few people who owed him from his time as the Winter Soldier and if they didn’t want their dirty laundry exposed, dammit he was going to make someone in the district fix the stupid test until it worked how you wanted it to work. He hugged you closer to him, giving you one final squeeze before he started drifting off to sleep. He slipped into a dream where he was a professor and you a naughty schoolgirl and he had just convinced you to bend over to pick something up behind his desk when...a loud snore from you jolted him back to the reality of his exhausted teacher girlfriend wearing his baggy shirt, with hair going every which way. There was no plaid skirt here. Only love and admiration. Bucky kissed your temple and willed sleep to come again. 

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Being Peter Parker’s Little Sister Would Include

Even as a young boy Peter knew to protect you with his life

He hated seeing you upset

So, he always made sure you were happy

Sure, he was the kind of brother that would tease you to no end

But he was also the kind who would hold you when you cried

He’d help you while you studied

Always gave you first pick

And he made sure you’d never feel a lack of love or acceptance

Him along with Uncle Ben and Aunt May made sure your childhood was a happy one

You were lucky enough to be so young that you don’t remember your parents

But you felt guilty for it

That you couldn’t remember the people who gave you life

So, you were always asking to hear stories about them

You and Ben would be curled up on the couch while he told you about your mother and father

You and May would bake and cook and clean together, always trying out new things and forcing the boys to eat it

Even though your life didn’t have such a good start

It was perfect

Until one day

A burglar broke into the house and held you at gun point, telling Ben he’d shoot you if they didn’t show him whatever was in the house

Your uncle Ben tried to reach for you but you heard a shot by your ear

Even though you shut your eyes you still saw the bullet hit Ben and felt his blood on your face and heard his body hit the ground

May and you saying your goodbyes to him, crying on the floor, covered in his blood

When Peter came home you were wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the edge of the ambulance where they were loading Uncle Ben

The next few days passing by in a blur

Crying in Peter’s arms while he tried to stay strong for you

One day after crying your heart out you managed to fall asleep in Peter’s bed

Seeing your face, he just broke down apologizing for doing this

You met Spiderman a few days after the funeral, at Uncle Ben’s grave

“I’m so sorry, if I had stopped the burglar before then this wouldn’t have happened to you. I promise I will find him and make him pay.”

“It was.... horrific. I saw it with my own eyes. That someone wouldn’t need to blink before taking someone’s life. That someone lacked so much humanity that they broke into a home and killed someone’s family. He’s a monster.”

“I’ll make him pay for what he did to your family.”

“If you kill somebody then you’re no better than he was. Don’t blame yourself, Spiderman, Uncle Ben wouldn’t have wanted it. Blame yourself for a very short time, but in turn, remember it forever. Don’t forget about him.”

“I promise.”

Just as Peter was about to leave, you spoke up again

“Uncle Ben always used to say that there wasn’t a point in becoming a new you if you forgot who you were.”

Suddenly Peter felt extremely nervous and sweaty and you turned to him with a small smile

“I’ll get my life together, I have my aunt and my brother, but I won’t forget who I used to be with Uncle Ben. You should do the same.”

He smiled awkwardly under the mask but you obviously didn’t see it before leaving without another word

You watched him shoot a web and swing away, chuckling

“Come back home safe tonight, Peter.”

Things get better after that

The man who killed Uncle Ben was caught and turned over to the police

And you begin to start paying attention to Peter’s alter ego

Being quick to accept his half-baked excuses and even giving better reasons to Aunt May

Sometimes you wonder just how stupid Peter thinks you are though because he expects you to believe these excuses of his

Always coming to the rescue when he forgets to do something because he was so busy

When he left Aunt May and you waiting at a restaurant for him, you conveniently remembered how he had a school project right when you saw Spiderman swing by the window, trying to catch a few criminals

When he forgot to bring Uncle Ben’s cake home, you picked it up saying that you took the reminder off his phone because you were planning to choose the best looking one

When you saw Harry waiting at the library for him, you told him that Peter got sick so he went home early

Keeping the first aid kit always stocked should Peter need anything

Teaching him to sew but telling him it was part of a home ec exercise so he could learn how to stitch up his own suit

Always silently looking after Peter

Whenever the three of you see a news report about him and Aunt May says that he’s awesome

You chuckling and saying

“Behind every amazing man there’s an equally amazing woman.”

Peter totally agreeing and then being nice to the two of you for the rest of the day

Things take a turn however when an Osborn gone crazy trying to get his hands on Peter finally turned his head to see you

And in his twisted goblin brain, he finally gets an idea

Peter’s DNA is too difficult to get his hands on because he has super powers and has been mutated because of the spider bite

But yours?

Blank slate free for him to manipulate

And you couldn’t fight back

It was all too easy to pluck you right out of their hands and bring you to his lair

Peter goes crazy trying to find you

Begging Nick, nearly in tears to help him find you

And Nick is actually kind of worried because he’s never seen Peter this way

Dispatches as many troops as he can afford trying to look for you

And as per Spiderman’s daily routine, he begins blaming himself

If you got hurt because he wasn’t there to protect you again, he’d never forgive himself

When they find you, you’re in a stasis chamber, nearly dead

There were vials of blood all over the place, and you looked severely malnourished

Peter definitely cried when he saw you

The team trying to comfort him, trying to get him to eat something while you’re in the med bay but him not moving

Although one day they notice something weird

Your heart rate suddenly spiked for some reason and you began tensing and struggling in the bed

Peter tried to get you to relax and immediately called a doctor

When they tried injecting you with a tranquilizer however your body was covered with a blue slime before slamming the doctor against the wall

It wasn’t difficult to figure out

You had been infected by a symbiote

It wasn’t long after that you woke up

Peter and Aunt May cried when you opened your eyes

They told you that Spiderman and his team saved you and even though you wanted to meet the team something told you that Peter was reluctant to get back in the suit

So, you continued to pretend you had no idea of his alter ego

Even though regular coma patients have to go through physiotherapy to get back their physical strength

You never had to do anything of the sort

They S.H.I.E.LD. doctors assume it’s because of the symbiote

You noticed how closed off Peter became and one day sat him down

“What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t deserve to be in this family.”

“What?! How can you say that?!”

“All I do is bring bad luck and people end up getting hurt because of me!”

“It wasn’t your fault Peter. How could you have known that the Goblin would have taken me.”

“It is my fault. Because of me, Uncle Ben was killed and because of me, you could have been too. I bring misfortune to everyone I ever loved.”

You see the way his face falls and your heart breaks

To see him blame himself this way and hate himself

To see him questioning his identity

The reason he became Spiderman was to make sure no innocent ever got hurt but because he was Spiderman his baby sister nearly died

So, you gently took his hand in yours

“I already told you, didn’t I? Blame yourself for a short time. But remember it forever.”

His eyes widened, remembering what you told Spiderman nearly a year ago

“You knew?”

“I’ve always known. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you, Peter. You risk yourself every day to protect other people.”

“And I couldn’t even protect you.”

“I’m okay now. I know how you must feel but I hate seeing you like this. Uncle Ben would’ve hated it too. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m responsible for keeping my family safe.”

You didn’t know how to help him

You knew he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders and that it was difficult to live a life like this

‘With great power comes great responsibility’

But sometimes things are out of your control

So, you don’t say anything else and just pull him into your arms

The way he did when Uncle Ben had passed

And gently rubbed his back

“I love you, bro.”

And he just breaks down in your arms, apologizing for everything and you just held him tight and trying to calm him down

And in the middle of his crying he managed to stutter out an ‘I love you too.’

And then the two of you become the Spider Siblings

Dance Parties on the ceiling and swinging around town in the morning because you both slept in and now you’re late

Swining races that he claims to let you win

Talking about life while hanging from the side of a building

Going to Uncle Ben’s grave to keep him updated and tell him not to worry because now there are 2 superheroes there to protect Aunt May

Him training you and being extra hard on you during training because he wants you to be better than him

But also becoming sugary sweet after training and offering to piggyback you home because you’re so tired

Will let you take naps in the corner of the training room while he trains

Hates it when you get along with Sam

Also gets super stressed out when you’re on the field and tries to double the amount of people he fights so you don’t have to

But he knows you can hold your own

And gets really proud when you do but won’t tell you

Always makes sure you’re eating well and sleeping well

Now if you ever brought a boy home you never know what to expect

Sometimes he just teases you to no end 

Or he completely freaks out and goes totally papa bear over you

In conclusion

Peter Parker as a big brother isn’t the type to be completely like a guardian

He has a lot of things going on in his life so he ends up relying on you a lot

But you wouldn’t trade him for the world

[jordanstrophe]

Going Once, Going Twice, part 3

CW: Whump, Auction Whump, Pet Whump, Trafficking, Slavery, Restraints, Cages, Manhandling, Gag, Trauma, A Pet being “chipped” through the wrist

((Overall, Peter just kinda having a rough night. Fluff will strike eventually.))

Masterlist

The room was distant, his body felt numb. He couldn’t feel the tears staining his face, or his feet being drug across the floor. He could only feel the hands wrapped around him, pulling him along, but even they felt unreal. 

In an instant, it felt like someone slammed his body against a wall. His vision jostled and his body ached. He opened his eyes, and realized he was laying on his side, he had been tossed in a large metal bar cage. He was too shaken and dizzy to try and sit up to look around. He was just tired. Tired, and hungry, and cold... And apparently, sold.

“Oh have mercy...” Winola crumpled into a seat backstage. She buried her face within her trembling hands. When she opened her eyes, there was a glass of water hovering in her vision. 

“Thanks Neal...” She muttered, taking the glass from his hand. “So... He did it.” Neal shrugged.

“Yeah, He did it. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to ask that of him, but the Baron...” She shuttered.

“Ma’am, pardon me, but you shouldn’t have gotten involved in that.” Neal tsked.

“Quiet now, I know what I’m doing. And besides, Rob owed me a favor.” 

“Winola!” Robert rasped, trying not to raise his voice, speed-walking past the workers backstage, who all had eyes on him. The man who had fought the Baron, and won.

“Ah! And there’s our lucky winner now. Congratulations, sir.” She smiled. 

“Is an explanation free? or do I have to pay millions for that as well.” Robert sassed.

“Oh hush you, now come on over.” She waved, pulling him over into her room. Neal guarded the door from the outside, as Winola slowly draped herself in a old rocking chair with a groan. Robert leaned his shoulder against a wall with his arms crossed expectantly.

“We both know what the Baron is known for. Buys a pet, they mysteriously “run away”, never to be seen again. He gets taken in for allegations of Pet abuse, pays his way out, everyone forgets, repeat.” She muttered.

“I’m aware. Everyone is aware, and as sick as it is, there’s really nothing we can do about it.” Robert sighed.

“Yes there is. We just did. You saved that boy's life.” She pointed.

“But now what? I own a human being, what am I supposed to do with him?"

“Take him home. Feed him, care for him, love him.” She shrugged. “Okay, I’m being half serious here. I needed someone with the money who could outbid the Baron. If you really don’t want him that badly, I’ll look for some nice owner who can take him off your hands, just give me a week.” 

“So I spent five million to rent a boy for a week? Do you realize how insane this is?” Robert argued.

 “Don’t raise your voice at an old woman, young man. I didn’t ask you to bid five million, you didn’t have to bid anything. Besides, you have money, because you literally don’t spend any of it. I’ll get you paid back as much as I can, but I wasn’t expecting you to drop five million.” She waved. Robert took a deep breath, with his fingertips rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, don’t worry about it. What’s done is done. I’ll care for him for a week, but please try and find someone who will take good care of him, this week.” Robert begged.

“Good, do be patient with him, he’s going to be very frightened. But if anything happens, or you need help, bring him in. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again, he’s a sweetie.” She smiled.

“Hey, I’m frightened too, where’s my hug-” “-Oh shut it.” She snapped, chuckling at him. 

“You bonded with him. Didn’t you?” Robert sighed. She quickly struggled to her feet, shooing him out the door “Go on now and collect your prize.” She waved, shutting the door in his face while chuckling. “Give those two a week and he’s going to bond with him too.” She giggled to herself.

<><>Later<><>

A loud clattering sound woke him. His vision was flipped from laying on the floor, but the could make out a man opening his cage, and was standing at it’s entrance. Reality struck, as arm wrapped around his chest and pulled him to his feet. All he could do was whimper as he placed in a hard metal chair. He gasped as it felt like dozens of hands grabbed him at every side, strapping his arms, legs, chest and waist down. One of his arms was specifically strapped out further, twisted upwards. He panicked, but before he could even cry out, his jaw was wrenched open as a wooden bar was shoved between his teeth. 

“Don’t move.” A voice growled. His sight was blurry with tears, but he could see someone looming over him, with something cold pressing hard into his wrist.

 “W--Wai-AAAAA!” He screamed, his arm shooting with sharp pain. It felt like someone had just impaled his wrists with a sharp spike. He bit down on the wooden bit hard, desperately trying to rip his wrists away, biting back the rest of his cries. His wrist was then gently wrapped with a white bandage and he was given a rough pat on the cheek. His breath shuttered, as he sobbed, his cries muffled.

“Sir! He’s all ready for you.” The man set down the chipping gun, waving Robert over who was just now showing up. Robert shot a glance at the young man who now apparently belonged to him, restrained, sobbing, twitching, hyperventilating. His wrist slightly bleeding through a fresh new bandage.  

‘’He’s just been chipped, and I see here he’s been fully paid for. Must have really wanted this one, huh?” The man chuckled. “If you need any help getting him to your car, we have a transport team that can take him, if you have a cage or a trunk set up in the vehicle.” The man said.

“I-I.. That won’t be necessary. I think I’ll handle him on my own, thank you.” Robert shuttered.

“Oh! Well that’s new... In that case, do you have a muzzle and restraints? Perhaps you would like him sedated?” The man asked, quite casually.

“What? No! None of those, I’ll walk him, if that’s fine.” Robert argued.

The man broke down laughing hysterically, Robert would have felt flattered if he had said something funny, which he hadn’t. 

“You uh... You didn’t come very prepared, did ya?” The man laughed, wiping away a tear. “Pets who have just been sold are always shaken up, so they tend to be stubborn, sometimes even aggressive. I highly suggest at least a muzzle and straps, sir.” The man huffed.

As convenient as that would be, Robert liked to think he was a decent man. He didn’t want to manhandle a traumatized boy, he just looked so scared... He just needed some time and space, and he would come around when he was ready... Goodness what was he doing. He was already planning strategies on how to handle him when he got home. It was only going to be a week at most.

“I’ve got it, really.” He said, as Peter was unstrapped from the chair, wooden bit pulled from his teeth, but the cuffs stayed, with a firm hand holding him down. “In that case, keep the cuffs. You paid enough already. Besides, something tells me you might need them.” The man chuckled.

 Robert bent down in front of Peter and put a gentle hand on his knee. “Hi there.” He smiled. Peter was gasping for air, trembling, holding his wrist tightly with his bound hand. It was around three AM, he was exhausted, slightly nodding off, but still in shock. “I’m just going to pick you up okay?” Robert asked. 

Peter looked up at him, was this the man who owned him now? He couldn’t see him in the darkness of the crowd, but he recognized his voice. The same voice shouting millions in his name. He yelped when he was picked up in the man’s arms, the pain in his wrists, fear and adrenaline combined kicked his defensive instincts hard, and before he could even stop himself, he bit the man’s shoulder.

Hard.

“Sir! This is why we use the muzzle!’’ The man yelled, running over to help.

“No!” Robert yelled, not giving the man a chance to touch him. “It’s-It’s fine... He’s not hurting me, he just has a latch on my coat...’’ Robert grunted.

Peter’s could feel the vibrations in the man’s neck as he spoke. He wanted so badly to just let go and crumble at the man’s feet, apologize and beg for mercy. But he couldn’t move. The shock kept him frozen, being carried bridal style, bound wrists gripping the man’s coat collar, teeth biting into his shoulder and mouth full of material.

“It’s alright...” Robert whispered to him, readjusting his grip around his trembling figure. He carried him through the parking lot, it was pitch black out, with only the streetlights luminating the vehicles around. He could make out distant scenes of other buyers loading their new Pets, some being thrown in a trunk, while some vehicles had entire cages in the pickup. The air was frozen, he could feel the man shaking uncontrollably in his grasp. He could only pull him in close to his chest, hopping that provided some warmth. 

He opened the back of his pickup truck and climbed in. He laid the man down in the backseat, who still had a death grip on his coat shoulder.  He placed a hand on his tear-soaked cheek. 

“I’m letting you go now, so can you let go for me too?” He soothed, the man’s eyes looked up at him pitifully, almost apologetically. Robert sighed as he unbuttoned his coat, and shuffled it off his shoulders. The man came off him along with his coat, as he laid him down and tucked the rest of his coat around him. He climbed into the driver's seat and glanced back. He still had his jaw locked onto the coat, but his eyes were half closed. 

“It’s okay. Just try and get some sleep, everything’s alright.” Robert soothed, turning up the heat in the car, as he was also shivering. He hoped the man would be tired enough he wouldn’t cause too much trouble for the first night. 

(press X to doubt)

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @moose-teeth @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @yet-another-heathen @sillypizzazineoperator @freefallingup13 @alien-octopus

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ *:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for reading!

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 33

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary: Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​

[Somewhere in a universe far, far away…] 

There was a soft brush of fabric on the polished floor that accompanied the approaching steps of leather shoes. Frigga stopped a little to Heimdall's left. 

"What do your golden eyes see, my friend?" 

"They see many things, my queen." 

Bifrost glimmered in the million colors under their feet. Lines and flashes passed faster than the human eye could see. The sword that was the key to every way, waited in Heimdall's hands.

"What do you see of my troubled sons?" 

"They are both learning through new experiences." 

Frigga sighed. "Which usually means they’ve gotten in even more trouble. Tell me, what is it this time?" 

Heimdall stood tall on the dais, the armor forged in ancient times by the hands of legends half forgotten by time still impeccable. The worlds moved before his eyes, with no secrets hidden from the gaze of the All-Watcher. 

"They are faring well, my queen. Even Loki." 

"I had hoped that banishment to Earth would be a better choice than the dungeons." Frigga's hand clutched the gown over her heart. "What did he do this time?" 

A smile ghosted on the lips of the All-Watcher. "It appears that he's made friends. Quite close ones, I dare say." 

"Oh, dear," Freya repeated in a completely different tone. A wicked light played in her eyes. "Do tell, my friend." 

*

[The same universe, a little closer] 

Life in big cities bears a certain strain on everyone's minds. Despite what the newspapers, thirsty for anything and everything worthy and unworthy of filling the pages with, would like you to believe, life had always been difficult. 

Time is always lacking, and money is never enough, and no matter how much you strain your brain, it just sometimes happens that you might not remember about the things stored at the very back of your tiny shop, tucked cozily into the corner of a very calm street. 

"Well," the man said. "I had no idea that I still had those in the freezers. I could've sworn that I have cleaned them before the winter and left nothing except for the packed broccoli. It must be your lucky day, my boy." 

The boy indeed felt very lucky. It was not everyday that one could be sent out to fetch ice cream for a living god in the middle of winter. 

"Have a nice day, sir!" he called on his way out. 

The chilly breeze bit into his cheeks, warmed up in the comforting interior of the grocery. Snow shined on the few surfaces not yet stamped on. The sidewalk Peter chose was a slippery trap that only his spider senses got him through unscathed. 

Loki sensed his coming, and looked over his shoulder at the approaching boy. His other arm was currently wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you closer into him. Peter tried his best not to stare too openly, but couldn't stop the grin from splitting his face. He sat on the other side of the god, the bench icy cold. 

"Thank you, my boy." The god took the ice cream with obvious delight. It had been your idea to spend the few hours before Peter's totally-not-a-date trying out the goods New York had to offer. At first, Loki had snickered at the suggestion of trying out whatever ice cream was available in the middle of winter, but after a few interesting flavors were discovered, Loki apologized. There was an almost disturbing variety of flavors Loki couldn't even imagine existing. 

"You're welcome, Mr. Mischief. I'm sure there would be a bigger choice if it was summer. I always go to that one vendor two streets away from my house, because he has this special recipe that absolutely blows my taste buds away every time." 

"Sounds intriguing." Loki's mind conjured the last time his taste buds had been blown away. If he recalled that unfortunate event correctly, it had something to do with pizza and a bet. "But I think I'll pass for now." 

The look of pure adoration in the boy's eyes hadn’t  perished. 

"I still can't believe you won't get sick after having so many," you said, and watched Loki devour the caramel. 

"It must be nice to be a god," Peter sighed. "You have awesome superpowers, get to do what you want and they even make action figures of you…" 

Loki frowned. "The what?" 

Peter blanched. He started fumbling with his jacket and 'accidentally' looked at his watch. "Oh, I think I’ve gotta go, it's getting so late and I don't want to make MJ wait—" 

Loki reached out and fixed the hair Peter had been nervously fighting with for the past few hours they'd all spent outside. "Don't forget the ring, boy." 

"Thank you!" 

The boy was beaming on his way out of the park. 

"I'm never washing my hair again." 

The totally-not-a-date that was steadily approaching was something Peter wasn't sure he was ready for. So many things could go wrong—and he had already imagined most of them. It wasn't as if he couldn't sleep all night thinking about it, he just… Was busy. Thinking. 

Peter straightened the jacket that was in absolutely no need of straightening. His hand moved to his hair, but he stopped it halfway with a smile. It'd  been touched by the hand of god, so it was as good as it could ever get. 

On his way out of the park the three of you had been resting in for a while, Peter's mind was in a strange disarray of thoughts. However, he was still capable of noticing the interesting new graffiti decorating the Avengers' statues set up in the middle of the park. Whoever decided to redecorate them this time, certainly had a pair of skillful hands. The wild mustache covering half of Iron Man's face looked almost lifelike. 

Loki and you watched the boy leave, nervousness apparent in his every too-stiff step. 

"They grow up so fast," you sighed, leaning further into Loki. 

He nodded. His finger circled lazily around your shoulder, drawing spiralling patterns. Loki turned his head toward the memorial statues raised in the central part of the park. People took pictures in front of them, posing and smiling as they milled around. Those were the heroes, after all. Saviors of the day. 

Loki added a mustache to another statue. 

You noticed and eased a giggle. "They're going to be so pissed." 

"My very soul aches at that thought. What a terrible crime." 

The patterns changed as you shifted slightly. The presence on his shoulder was warm and softened by the fabric of clothes that kept the winter frost from you. 

"I thought using magic in this world was difficult." 

"It is.There's a lot more focus required to make it work than I'm used to. It's nothing dramatic, though. I've heard of worlds where the trickle of magic is even more strained, to the point where it barely exists at all." 

"Do you miss them? The other worlds, I mean. Like Asgard." 

The patterns changed again. They slowed down, became more deliberate. 

"Sometimes," was the honest answer and the one he gave after careful consideration. 

"Will you leave, then?" 

Loki looked down at his wrist, where a thin band of metal used to reside, blocking every and all effort he might take against leaving Earth or using magic in any form. It was no longer there, which meant, although it would be extremely difficult to conduct, Loki could technically leave. 

The only obstacle was that it was no longer his priority. 

"I've never been one to sit aimlessly on my ass for too long, and especially not when and where I had been forced to do so. I think I could name more than a few places I'd like to pay a visit," he admitted, putting his cheek on the top of your head. His throat bobbed slightly. "The only problem is that I just recently found out how terribly boring touring alone might be. It's a real wonder why anyone bothers to do so anymore, and," he swallowed, "I think I could use some company." 

Loki cursed himself for putting his head on top of yours, and blocking the view of your face. Especially as he still didn't get any answer. His heart jumped into his throat, making it difficult to breathe. 

"...I mean, I know it's still so early, and that's okay if you feel overwhelmed or unsure and I won't force you into anything more than you're willing to do—” 

Loki's rumbles were cut short when you finally moved to look up at him. The wild gleam in your eyes and a wicked smile so similar to his struck him dumb. 

"You'd never be able to leave this planet without me." 

A choked breath, so similar to a whispered name ghosted over his lips. "Of course I wouldn't. What would be the fun in that?"

*

[The galaxy, elsewhere] 

"Oh, dear," the queen broke the biscuit in half with perfect manners. Barely any crumbs dared to ruin the fragile dessert. "I guess he really is experiencing something new." 

Heimdall sipped the tea. Servants at the queen's quarters left them with a small table full of goods of the highest sort. The warm breeze played with the curtains with the subtle shimmer of gold. The trees rustled on the wind, losing old leaves to it. 

"He's also plotting an escape," Heimdall added. His helmet laid on his knee. 

Frigga waved the biscuit in a gesture that had very little to do with manners. "That sounds more like him." 

The softest hint of a smile graced her features. 

"I wonder what will become of him. Maybe it's in my nature as a mother, but no matter how much I try, I can't help but continue to worry about him, even after all these years." 

"I swore to keep an eye on him, and I will." Heimdall put a hand to his heart. There was no smile on his face, only seriousness as he recalled an oath he'd never break. 

"Thank you, my friend."

[eldritchteaparty]

Chapters: 12/20 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano, Oliver Banks, Original Elias Bouchard, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane, Melanie King, Georgie Barker Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood, Character Death In Dream, Nudity (not sexual or graphic), Nightmares, Fighting

Summary: Following the events of MAG 200, Jon and Martin find themselves in a dimension very much like the one they came from--with second chances and more time.

Chapter summary: Jon and Martin talk things out after their encounter with Annabelle at dinner.

Chapter 12 of my post-canon fix-it is up!

Read above at AO3 or here below.

Tumblr master post with links to previous chapters is here.

***

Martin finally pulled his hand away. “We should pay.”

“I did.”

“Oh.” He still couldn’t bring himself to look at Jon. “I didn’t see.”

“I know.”

“Thank you.” It seemed like the right thing to say before he did, but afterward it hung awkwardly between them.

“Do you…” Jon cleared his throat. “Do you want to leave?”

“Sure.” He didn’t want to stay.

Now that it was later in the evening, it was cool enough outside that he didn’t feel terrible for jamming his hands into his pockets as they walked to the tube station. He took the window seat on the train, staring out into the darkness of the tunnel as if he were watching scenery go by. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk, or even that he was avoiding an argument; after all, arguing seemed to be one of the few ways that he and Jon actually managed to communicate with each other. It was that he still didn’t know what to say.

Jon surprised him by speaking first.

“You’re angry.”

“Yeah. I’m angry,” he answered.

“You have every right to be.”

“I mean—I’m not angry at you.” He finally looked at Jon, who was eyeing him with skepticism. “All right, I’m not just angry at you. I’m angry at the whole situation. I’m angry at her. And I’m—I’m angry at me.”

Jon nodded.

“And I feel stupid.”

“You’re not—”

“I am. And I’m sad,” he added. “I’m sad I can’t fix this.”

“It’s not your job to fix it.”

“It’s not yours, either. But that doesn’t seem to make a difference.”

Jon didn’t answer him, and he went back to looking out the window. They didn’t exchange any more words until they were almost at the front door of the flat, where Martin finally knew what he wanted to ask first.

“When did it happen? When did you—know it was back? Was it after Hill Top Road?”

Jon unlocked the door and opened it, waiting for Martin to go in before he answered him.

“It was. But not right away—it was that next week. I don’t even know if that had anything to do with it.”

“Ok. Ok. So that next weekend, when—and that haircut, and this—this stupid date—” Jon recoiled. “All of it, it’s all been, what—a distraction?”

“What?” Jon started to step toward him, then stopped. “No—no, it wasn’t.”

Martin drew in a breath and swallowed. “But it wasn’t real.”

“It was.” There was a kind of desperation in Jon’s face that Martin hadn’t seen for a while—like he had something to prove. “It’s what I could give. I don’t know how much time we have, and—”

He couldn’t hold it in. “Jon—why didn’t you just tell me?”

A moment passed, but Martin was determined to wait for an answer. Jon finally gave it.

“Because you were happy.”

“Happy? I was worried sick about you most of the time.”

“That was still better, though, wasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was—” Jon paused. “You liked taking care of me. You liked that I had to rely on you. You liked that I couldn’t—

“Don’t.”

Jon didn’t.

Martin was suddenly conscious that they had never moved away from the front door. Jon’s last point had knocked some of the energy out of him, but going to sit somewhere else didn’t seem right. He sat on the floor instead, leaning against the back of the couch. Jon reciprocated, leaning on the wall behind him. It was dark in the flat, they hadn’t turned on a light, but they could still see each other well enough from the lights outside the window.

“Look—at least I knew it was wrong.”

Jon sighed. “It wasn’t—it wasn’t wrong. I did need you. And it—it was sweet. I’m glad I have you. It was just—”

“I know. I know what it was.”

In the quiet that followed, guilt that had lain dormant until then writhed its way down to his stomach. It settled in, weighing heavy inside him until Jon broke the silence again.

“Earlier, what you said—you were right.”

“About what?”

“That I should have tried harder to tell you.”

“Jon—I was upset.”

“You weren’t wrong.”

“Yes, I was.” Martin sighed. “I mean… I know you tried to tell me. Well, now I do. But I would have listened if—honestly, I just thought you were going to apologize again or feel bad for everything, and—”

“And you didn’t want to hear that.”

“No, I—” Martin stopped. I didn’t want you to feel that was what he started to say, but he was interrupted by the recollection of his mother, telling him to go put the kettle on to make a cup of tea. He’d grown to hate it right along with the oolong, the way she avoided having to talk with him about anything that might have really mattered, replacing it with something that only roughly resembled comfort.

Words he’d once spoken to himself came back to him. At best, it’s a plaster. At worst, a muzzle.

He was exactly the same as her. The guilt that had awoken started to twist its way back up, into his chest and around his lungs.

“Martin, you’re not—it’s different. You’re not the same.”

“Jon!” Martin’s face flushed. “That’s not suddenly ok now, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Jon mumbled. “I didn’t mean to. It’s not—it’s harder to control than I remember.”

“Yeah. Great.”

It got quiet again; Martin distractedly tapped his fingertips on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

“Ok, so… what else? What’s it—what’s it like?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—ok, so do you need to read the statements?”

Jon took a small breath. “Yes.”

“Is it—” He forced himself to look at Jon. “Are you ok? I mean… I know they used to really take it out of you.”

“I’m…” Jon met his eyes, which seemed just as hard for him. “Sometimes they do.”

“Ok. Will you—will you check in with me if you’re reading one and I’m not around?”

“Martin—”

“Look, I’m not asking for a promise. I’m just—I’m just asking if you will.”

“I don’t know.” Jon returned to staring at the floor. The answer hurt, but Martin was relieved for the excuse to break eye contact.

“What about… have you compelled anyone?”

“No.”

“Could you?”

“Yes. Well, probably. Depending on the person.”

Martin nodded. “How hard is it to—know something?”

“It’s, um… not easy. Not as hard as it was at first—before—though. And more things… slip through.”

“Accidentally.”

“Yes.”

Martin realized the muscles in his shoulders and neck were starting to cramp from how he’d been holding them. He exhaled and leaned back against the couch when something occurred to him. “What about Melanie?”

Jon looked up at him again. “What about her?”

“You’ve been sending her after dead ends, haven’t you? That’s why she hasn’t found anyone to talk to. You knew she wouldn’t.”

Jon didn’t answer.

“So that’s a yes?”

Jon nodded reluctantly.

“Good.”

Jon sat straighter, looking at Martin again. “Really? I wasn’t sure if you’d—I mean, I know you want them to know about… about everything.”

“Yeah, I do, but—but everything’s different than I thought.” He couldn’t keep the tinge of resentment out of his voice, but he pushed ahead. “They still need to know, but… it’s different. I’m glad she’s safe.”

The gratefulness he saw so plainly reflected in Jon’s face did two things. It made Martin want to go to him, to bridge the short distance between them and put his arms around him, and try again to convince him everything would be ok. It also stirred the guilt that had begun to recede quietly back into his subconscious, pushing him to think further through everything that had happened, what he might have missed, what he might have done. Those thoughts were coming faster now that he was over his initial shock. They had more to talk about.

“Jon, I’m—I’m sorry I stayed to talk to Annabelle tonight.”

“Are you?”

He hadn’t expected that bit of harshness, and he tensed up at the words. “Well, I—”

“Never mind,” Jon stopped him. “I know why you did it.”

Martin sat back again. “I am sorry, though. I mean, I’m sorry it hurt you.”

There was another short round of silence.

“Jon, why do you think she came to talk to us? Or—talk to you, really?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Jon slumped back against the wall. “She won and she came to gloat.”

“Has she?” Martin asked. “I mean—yeah, we’re here, but—this wasn’t exactly what she wanted. It’s not what she wants in the end, anyway. And gloating, I mean—that really doesn’t seem like her.”

“We have no idea what seems like her, Martin.” The pure bitterness in Jon’s voice was almost a welcome break from the sadness that had dominated his tone until then. “That’s really her whole deal.”

“Maybe.” Martin kept pushing. “Still—I just think—do you really think she was trying to—call a truce? Whatever she said?”

“No,” Jon answered. “I think she came to see the look on my face when she told me they didn’t need me anymore.”

“I don’t think so.”

“No? You don’t think the Fears will find their way out of here eventually?” It was not meant as a legitimate question.

“Ok—I don’t know, but—” Martin tried to choose his words with care. “Yeah. It seems possible.”

“Therefore, she came to gloat.”

“But Jon—” He could feel the frustration creeping into his voice. “I mean—she has to know you won’t just accept that. You’re not planning to let it go, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Exactly. And she has to know that. It’s almost like—it’s almost like she was trying to push you to do something. To not let it go. Why?”

Something about Jon’s demeanor changed; he stiffened slightly, or shifted his balance, and Martin’s thoughts began to converge. The way Annabelle had talked about time—of course she was right, the Web didn’t care, and so she didn’t either. It was very clear her own life didn’t matter to her, any more than it served the Web.

So why would she show up and deliberately remind Jon that if he did nothing, the entities would escape?

It brought to mind something Jon had said earlier, something he had ignored in the moment.

I don’t know how much time we have.

“Jon, what have you been doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when you’ve been staying late in the office. When you’ve been working here, writing. What have you been doing? If I open that drawer”—he gestured vaguely behind him toward the desk—“what will I find?”

“I’d prefer you didn’t,” Jon said quietly.

He measured his words carefully. “I’d prefer you tell me.”

Jon shrank into himself; he wrapped one arm around his chest and pulled his knees in, and brought his other hand up to his mouth.

“Jon.” Martin couldn’t stop the slight shake in his voice this time; he hoped he was wrong. “Please. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

“All right.” Jon spoke from behind his hand. “It’s—it’s a ritual.”

It wasn’t the answer Martin had wanted to hear, but it was the one he had expected. “To start another apocalypse?”

“I—” Jon was breathing harder, and Martin could see the effort he was making to push through his words. “Yes. Not—not exactly the same, I could do it faster, and there would be less—”

“How? From memory?”

“No. Well—some. Some of it—there are a couple of—of Leitners—”

“Jesus Christ, Jon!”

“I only used ones that were safe—”

“Safe? Do you realize that a giant fucking eyeball fear monster is telling you which ones are safe?”

“I meant that I could control—”

“I don’t believe you.”

There was a beat of silence. “Martin please, I’m—”

“No, I mean—I literally don’t believe you. I don’t believe you could do it.”

“Martin—”

“Look, I get what happened before. I didn’t agree, but I get it. You’d lost everything. They used you and they took everything that mattered to you. They took Sasha, then Tim, and then Daisy, and you had to watch what it did to all the others—”

“And you,” Jon said.

“—fine, yes, but—Jon, this is not that. This is—they’re all here. They have a chance. And whatever you think happened before—this is a real choice. And they care about you, and you care about them. I just—I don’t think you could do it. I don’t believe it.”

Jon face slid down into his hand until his eyes were covered. “I don’t know. I don’t want to. Probably I couldn’t. Probably I won’t. But I wish I could. If it gets bad enough, maybe I can. And I need to—to be ready. I just can’t—I just can’t let them—”

The quick hitch of breath that followed made Martin forget what he had been about to say, if he’d had any words. He crawled to Jon’s side, slipping one arm around his back and the other around his chest, awkwardly trapping the arm Jon had wrapped around himself. Jon’s face ended up pressed against Martin’s throat, where his breath continued to catch as he fought to stop crying.

Martin wanted to tell him it was ok—that it would be ok, that they could still fix it—but he remembered the last time Jon had finally broken down that had only made him withdraw again. He was starting to really understand that it wasn’t ok for Jon, and probably never would be. He couldn’t bear to think what that meant for him, especially not right then, but he knew enough to not make that mistake again.

He said the only comforting thing he could think of that he was sure about, that he had been sure about for a long time now.

“I love you.”

Jon reached a hand up to Martin’s neck, where he pressed the pads of his fingers firmly against his skin.

“I’m here.” Martin spoke softly against Jon’s hair. He could tell Jon was still struggling, still trying to gain control, but he seemed to have relaxed a little; his body wasn’t quite so rigid as Martin held him.

***

Eventually Jon was calm. They’d shifted so that he rested with his back against Martin’s chest, and Martin’s back was against the wall. His arms were around Jon’s waist, and Jon’s arms rested comfortably on top of his as he leaned back into him.

“So.” Jon’s voice was raw. “I’ve finally become a monster.”

“No.” Martin pressed his mouth gently against his ear. “You haven’t.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No. I mean—I still don’t think you could do it, but—now that we’re here, and we know what’s out there—you don’t want them to get out again. That would be terrible.”

Jon shifted slightly; Martin impulsively tightened his grip, then made himself relax again.

“To be clear—I don’t think you’re responsible for what happens a hundred years from now, or a thousand years from now—and I’m definitely not in favor of ending the world over it.”

“Martin, it just—it doesn’t matter how long from now it is. If it’s ten thousand years from now and they escape, and poison a thousand dimensions—more than that, maybe—if I could have ended it, it’s my fault.”

Martin tightened his grip again, this time deliberately.

“Maybe there’s another way.”

Jon turned so his forehead was against Martin’s cheek. “Martin, I know you want to think that, but—”

“Yes, and I know, the world doesn’t care what I think.”

“I should never have said that.”

“I mean, it hurt—but it was true.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not the point. The point is—I still don’t think Annabelle would have turned up just to brag. I think she needs something. She doesn’t want you to have time. I think she’s trying to push you into acting, and maybe—maybe, if you did, it would all turn out the same. But worse, obviously.”

Jon’s fingers, which he had been absentmindedly brushing over Martin’s forearm, were suddenly still; Martin realized that possibility hadn’t occurred to him.

“But maybe—if you don’t, but if you keep trying—keep looking for it—maybe there is another way. One she’s scared of. A path she doesn’t want you to take.”

“Hm.” Martin could tell Jon wasn’t sold on it, but he had heard him, and that was enough for the moment.

“Jon?”

“Yes.”

“I’m—I’m going to tell them soon.”

Jon nodded. “I understand.”

He kissed Jon lightly on the forehead, and slid his hand up to his chest, where he slipped his fingers into the gaps between the buttons of Jon’s shirt. He could feel the scar, his scar, through the thin fabric of Jon’s t-shirt; beneath that though, around it, he could feel the rise and fall of Jon’s chest.

“Jon.”

“Yes?”

“Let me know if you’re reading a statement and I’m not around?”

Jon sighed. “All right.”

[kittybellestark]

This is kinda an endgame fix-it of sorts. Tony is alive.

After the snap Peter and May were poor.

They were lucky to get an apartment with two bedrooms. They really were. And it was still in queens which was nice. But they were starting from scratch.

The government was useless. Well, maybe not useless, they were doing they’re best with the missing people from five years ago suddenly return. They had to deal with all of the deaths caused by the return, as well as all the now displaced people. Undoing the death certificates, finding any missing people. The government was doing a lot.

But it didn’t feel like it. Those who were snapped out of existence didn’t have their savings anymore. Or their jobs. They were entitled to ‘financial compensation,’ but that could take years to get, and would probably end up costing more then they’d get.

So, May and Peter were currently poor. And while their apartment seemed nice enough, it was pretty run down. They were lucky that Pepper had lent them one of the Stark’s many homes in New York until they found a place for as long as she did. With Tony having been in a coma for as long as he had been, and is still dealing with recovery, it felt wrong to intrude in such a way.

They’re new apartment has already been broken into twice. And May and Peter were currently sharing a cellphone where they bought minutes as they needed. May was finding small jobs here and there that was enough to cover the bills. And Peter was chipping in where he could.

Then the ceiling in May’s bedroom started to collapse. And while typically this would be the part that Tony would swoop in and save the day, May and Peter currently had no way to reach of to him, and Tony was still deep into recovery, still not permitted to even stand on his own.

Peter and May started putting money aside where they could to get the ceiling fixed. It was April and school had been cancelled until at least September to deal with the influx of students. So Peter got a full time job as a bartender while he isn’t actually old enough to serve or drink his ID is technically doesn’t say he’s too young either. And May finally found a full time position working for a non-profit that pays well enough to help relocate people after the snap.

May’s mattress is brought over to Peter’s room, (because the living room is too small and doesn’t have a couch yet, only too foldable chair and a little table in between) and they become roommates.

After 3 months they still don’t have enough money to fix the ceiling and Peter is feeling antsy.

May likes to sleep with the lights off, and Peter doesn’t want to tell her that the dark makes him think about the battle, or space, or the time he crashed an airplane, or when he was trapped under a building.

May goes to bed early because she has to wake up early, which means that Peter doesn’t get to be alone very often.

Peter misses having privacy.

He misses getting changed in his bedroom.

And crying without worrying about waking up the person a few feet away.

He misses having a place solely his own.

Peter understands why this is happening. He gets it. He knows they’re poor right now. Peter knows that they can’t afford to fix the ceiling. And he feels guilty. And selfish for wanting a place of his own.

He feels so selfish when he looks down at the pizza him and May just ate -because they were both over tired and their stove broke- and sees it as a luxury. Sees the money that could have gone to giving him his room back. He feels selfish for putting money on their shared cellphone so that he can check the internet to see if Ned or MJ were also snapped. To see if the news knows about Tony’s recovery.

Peter feels guiltly and horrible for just wanting to be alone for longer than a shower. He just wants to be able to be alone.

When Happy spots Peter when he’s walking home from work at 3am, Peter feels guilty for taking the offer for the ride home. He’s wasting Happy’s money. He’s wasting Pepper’s and Tony’s money. He feels like a burden.

“How come you haven’t come round to visit boss yet? I thought you too were close.”

Happy doesn’t want to say that he misses the kid. Doesn’t want to tell Peter he’s concerned over the hallowed cheeks and sunken eyes. He wants to see if Peter is okay, but without the kid feeling like he’s put on the spot.

“Don’t know where he is.” Peter responds simply with a shrug.

The way Peter slurs his words slightly along with the raggedy look of the kid are some massive red flags for Happy. Peter isn’t going off on some tangent about anything and it isn’t right.

“If you called I could have given you a ride.” Happy tries to sound nonchalant, looking at Peter in the rear view mirror, the kid doesn’t even perk up.

“Gotta have a phone for that, Happy. And your phone number.”

Happy pulls over to where the Parker’s used to live. Where things were good and happy and there was no snap. And there was no missing out on five years of life or sharing a bedroom, it was just another day.

“You guys still live here?” Happy asks, hoping for something to turn the conversation around, hoping for something, anything.

“No, but I can walk the rest of the way, it’s no big deal.”

“Not happening.”

Happy pulls back out onto the road taking Peter out of Queens to visit Tony and Pepper and Morgan. Hopefully that’ll cheer the kid up. Morgan is the cutest kid, so it’s impossible to be upset by her. And now that Tony is doing better it’s bound to have Peter rambling in no time.

“Happy, Happy, what are you doing? You need to pull over. C’mon man, not cool. I gotta work tomorrow. Let me out!” Peter tried the open the doors to no avail not thinking to unlock it.

“Peter I’m just taking you to the Lakehouse, just for a night.”

“I have to work tomorrow Happy, I can’t not go. Just let me out.”

Peter felt desperate, and selfish. Tears were in his eyes and he was seconds away from crying. He couldn’t miss work. Couldn’t miss out on the money that went towards his privacy. Towards having his room back. 

As Happy turned to pull into the driveway for the Lakehouse it was turning to 4am and the kitchen light was on. Peter felt the tears escape and he couldn’t call May, or his job and they needed the money.

“Happy, please.” Peter tried again.

Happy and Peter both got out the car, Peter trudging behind, dreading the idea of intruding on someone else. He didn’t want to be there and he was sure he wasn’t wanted.

They both walked in, gathering the attention of Pepper, who was making food in her pajamas. Pepper looked up and smiled at Happy, not seeing Peter who has hidden himself behind Happy. 

“Look at who I found wandering through the streets of Queens.” Happy pulled Peter out from behind himself to show off the boy to Pepper.

“Wandering through the streets? Peter, honey I know you’re enhanced but it’s not safe to be walking through Queens in the middle of the night.” 

Pepper moved and gave Peter a hug, surprised at how skinny he way. He wore enough layers that it wasn’t that obvious in any place other than his face, but when she squeezed him. All there was, was bones.

Peter didn’t respond verbally, only a slight shrug, and that was so out of character for him it nearly had Pepper reeling.

“Let me make you some breakfast.” Pepper nodded to herself before moving back into the kitchen to make Peter some food too.

“I really shouldn’t be staying long.” Peter broke the silence finally when Pepper got him to sit with food infront of him.

“You just got here, honey, there’s no rush. We missed you.”

Peter doesn’t really believe her.

“I have to go to work. I can’t miss work.”

Pepper gives Peter a look. A look that he’s received multiple times from May, the look a parent gives when they’re trying to figure out if their child is lying. It’s the squinting eyes and the frown, with the one corner of the mouth turned up.

“I’m sure you can take the day off.” Pepper’s tone has an air of finality to it. “We’ll get May here tomorrow. It’s been too long since we’ve last seen you guys.”

Peter shrugged, feeling tired and defeated. Fighting Pepper is a battle Peter doesn’t ever want to take up. Sometimes you just need to accept your losses. This is one of those times.

“Can I use your phone to call in then? I’m supposed to work at noon.” 

Peter held onto his head with both of his hands, already coming up with an excuse to why he can’t come in.

“Didn’t you just finish your shift? Why would you work at noon.” Happy snorted, clearly not believing Peter having a job.

“It’s called working a double. My shifts are 12pm-2am. Now could I please call in?”

“I’ll call for you honey, where do you work?” 

Ah, shit. This wasn’t a turn that Peter was expecting. He didn’t think that he would have to tell Pepper where he’d work. 

“Death & Company.”

“Excuse you?”

“I work at Death & Company. That speakeasy styled bar where we all wear bowties and suspenders. It’s pretty rich people stuff, I’m sure you heard of it Pepper.”

“Peter, impossible. You’re sixteen, they wouldn’t hire a minor.”

“Except the fact that my ID say’s I’m 21. I just happen to be the type of guy that they like to hire. Also the tips are really good.”

“You can’t work there. I won’t allow it. I’m sure May and Tony would agree with me.”

Peter groaned, dropping his head onto the table. He didn’t want to do this. He was tired and missed having privacy and he was doing something good. Sure, maybe he got the job for selfish reasons. And maybe he’d stay a little later most shifts and have a drink or two with his coworkers. It’s not like it’s illegal anymore. Might as well reap the benefits of being a legal adult while still 16. 

“May actually knows where I work and is grateful that I’m helping out while not in school. Four months ago it would have been a problem, or I guess five years ago, but now we need the extra cash. Besides, you don’t own me, I’m not your child, I’m technically a legal adult and therefore can work at a bar. The last time either May or I have spoken to you was right after the snap, and the last time I talked to Tony was during the battle.  You didn’t give us anyway to contact you, and the only reason I’m here is because Happy brought me here even though I asked to be dropped at home. You can’t just decide to show up in my life now and tell me what I can and can’t do. You haven’t been here and you don’t get to choose to be here for me now.”

“Peter, I’m so sorry that we’ve ignored you, but there’s been a lot going on, we’ve just got Tony back home and he’s able to do things again, and there’s Morgan and the company too. It’s been a lot.”

Peter felt tears in his eyes. He didn’t like doing this. He didn’t want to, but he might still be a little drunk. It’s been exhausting and he hasn’t gotten to talk about it with anyone, and now Pepper is here and it’s convenient.

“We’ve been threatened with homelessness multiple times, we’ve been robbed twice, our roof has caved in, we have one phone where we buy minutes when we need it, we don’t have hot water, our appliances barely work, May is working two jobs that don’t pay anywhere’s near as much as her old one and I’m working as well and sometimes we have to choose which utilities are more important to us. May had to talk a week off of work last month because she got the flu, knocked her down pretty good. I wanted her to go to the hospital because her fever hit 105 degrees, we couldn’t really afford it before everything either, but it would have been doable. Now she didn’t want to be brought to the hospital because it’d be cheaper for her to die and wouldn’t lead to me being homeless. We had our electricity and water shut down for a little while because of that.” Peter took in a big breath, trying to reign in his frustration, trying not to take it out on Pepper. “I understand that you’ve been through a lot these last few months, years even, but so have I. It isn’t your fault, but you’ve also not been there, so please don’t try to force yourself into a situation you will never understand. I need my job. May needs me to have my job. This isn’t about what you or Tony want, it isn’t about what you do and don’t like. It’s about what May and I need. And that happens to be me working at a bar for the unforeseeable future.”

The two sat in silence, and Happy backed his way out of the kitchen. It was clear that Pepper was processing Peter’s words. It was a lot. He couldn’t blame her for that. Or for her not being there. It happens. Life gets in the way.

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry Peter. I’ll call them for you. Just the one day, and then you can go back to work if you’d like. For now why don’t you go to bed sleep a little bit. Then you can see Tony and meet Morgan.”

‘Meet Morgan.’ Because Peter hasn’t done that yet. Because Peter hasn’t been important enough to meet her before. Or important enough to see Tony. Maybe Peter just isn’t important. He’s an intern. Just an intern. Always will be an intern.

“Sure, tha-that’s fine.”

“Okay, you can take the first bedroom on the left. On this floor.”

Peter nodded with a mumbled thanks, moving out of his spot and to guest bedroom. When he entered the room it was obvious it was made for visitors. There wasn’t anything personal in there. Queen size bed, white comforter, white pillows with a colourful quilt. A tall dresser and desk, an ensuite bathroom and walk-in closet. 

It was too much. Way too much. It’s probably a memory foam mattress. He doesn’t deserve this. He wanted privacy, not to abandon May in a time of need. Peter just wanted his room back, not to be sicced on Pepper or Tony when they’re also in a time of need. All he needed was his creaky twin size mattress on his nearly okay bed frame, in his dingy bedroom that totally didn’t have mold or mice. All he needed was to be able to go to his own bedroom at night and be alone, not in this knock-off hotel room. 

May deserved it. Not him. May deserved better than him. Better than what she got. 

“I need another drink.” Peter groaned, closing the door behind him and through the room. He opened the window, throwing himself and his bag outside. 

The fresh air coming off the lake helped calm Peter’s nerves. The sun rose in colours of pink and orange and red. There were still stars in the sky and the moon too. 

Peter found himself being drawn to the docks. He sat down at the edge, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. The bottle was still mostly full, so he took a swig hoping for it to solve any problems. Of course it didn’t. It never could, why would it start now? Just because Peter was seated on the Stark’s dock, using up valuable resources, money and space didn’t mean that anything would be solved. It just meant that the sinking feeling in his stomach grew heavier and heavier. 

He should be at home. Dreading work, but grateful for the extra money. He should be in his shared bedroom with May. He should be doing more. May should be the one swept off her feet and given a day off. Why should he have anything good? Why should he be sitting here, privileged, when others are struggling much worse than he is.

He takes another swig.

It doesn’t burn anymore. Not like it used to. 

“You know, Whiskey was the first drink I ever had. Mind you, I was six years old and told I needed to drink it to show how grown up I was. I’m sure there’s a different reason as to why you’re drinking.”

Tony’s voice shock’s Peter’s system. There’s electric currents and his vision whites out for a second, he nearly drops his bottle. Peter can’t stop himself to turn around, finding Tony standing there, keeping himself up with a cane, his right arm a prosthesis, and healing burns up his face. Tony has a sad smile on his face as he carefully maneuvers himself to sit down next to Peter.

“I know that look.” Peter says carefully. “It’s not your fault.”

“Peter, you’re drinking.” Tony huffs, pulling the bottle from Peter’s hand.

“Don’t put this on yourself. It’s not like I drink all the time. Only after my shift sometimes. I’m legal, technically, and it’s not hurting anyone. Controlled environment with other adults. The whiskey was a gift from the owners because I bring in the most customers.”

Peter laughed, it was a heartbroken, self-deprecating laugh. The tips of his ears were red, and Tony noticed how Peter’s eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears. Tony was surprised to see that Peter was also skinnier, his cheekbones and jaw more prominent, his collarbone popping more and his spine visible through the sweater. 

“So then why?” Tony asked, testing the waters a little bit. 

This was the first conversation he was having with Peter after five years. Their first conversation and it isn’t one of happiness. Tony finally gets to talk to his kid and he’s scarred he’ll push Peter into closing off. 

Peter considers his answer. “Well I’d rather be dead and I can’t do that to May because that’s selfish of me. And I don’t have any privacy and we can hardly pay any bills. I don’t even know if Ned or MJ were snapped or finishing college. It’s been five years and I don’t really fit anymore. I just feel so selfish for wanting my own bedroom.”

Tony felt like an asshole. Of course Peter would be struggling with adjusting to a new world. He should of reached out sooner, though Tony wasn’t very lucid these last few months, finally weened completely off the pain medication this week. 

“Can I hug you, kid?” 

Peter nods, sobbing once he’s held in Tony’s arms. Tony rubs Peter’s back hoping to bring any comfort to the kid. Being alive for the last five years has been hard, trying to mourn the loss of half the world, move on from what once was, and then try and reverse everything to bring back Peter.

“Ned and MJ were both snapped as well. It was one of the first things I checked when I made it back. And I don’t know how much it helps but I literally invented time travel to bring you back, not for the greater good, but because I’m a selfish man who wanted my kid back. I know that there is no excuse for why I’ve not been there since you came back but I’m here for you now and whenever you need me in the future. I’ll put my number and Pepper’s and Happy’s and Rhodey’s number into your phone so you can call any of us whenever you need.”

Carding his fingers through Peter’s hair helped soothe Tony and he hoped it would also soothe Peter. Having a crying boy in his arms made him more like a failure than he already thought himself to be.

“I don’t have my own phone. May and I share, and we hardly ever have enough minutes. I wouldn’t deserve it anyways.”

“No, no, Kid you deserve it so much more than anyone else, and you deserve everything good. You’ll have a phone by the end of the day, with so many minutes you wouldn’t know what to do with any of it. Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you, but I need you to promise that you’ll only drink on special occasions or parties and not when your sad, or angry, or upset in anyway.”

Peter sobbed, his whole body shaking in Tony’s arms, he tries nodding, though the way that his body is shaking it made it hard to decipher, but Tony knew, he always knew.

“I don’t know why I thought things would be like normal. It didn’t really click that it’s been five years, but then it really was, and May and I don’t have anything and I went to space and died then came back to life and was thrown into a war. I can’t even sleep anymore, especially not in the dark. I don’t know why I thought things would be the same. Everyone moved on, the world moved on. There’s no room for me anymore.” 

“Okay, okay, Underoo’s. It’s okay, I know it’s hard and what you’re feeling I’m sure a billion others are feeling too, and that doesn’t make you any less deserving of your feelings. We’re going to find a place for you in this new world. We’re going to help you the best we can. You’re my kid too, and I’m so sorry I haven’t been there for you, but we’ll do this together, however you want to. You get to call the shots here. You have a room here for as long as you want it and forever after that, we’ll get you and May set up wherever needed. I love you, Pete.”

For the first time in a while Peter feels like things will be okay. He’s here with Tony and the world isn’t ending, and he has a room and someone who can tell him that it’s okay. He’s not happy, but he’ll get there.

[theotherjourney7]

“The Week In Tory returns for the second time in 4 days.

The weeks grow shorter, but the days last forever...

1. The consultant who advised the government to look for "alternative arrangements" on the Irish Border is in line for a £200m contract if alternative arrangements go ahead.

But to facilitate this, the government has to break international law with the Internal Market Bill (IMB)

Nobody can tell us what the "alternative arrangements" are, but the IMB passed through parliament anyway.

2. The UK’s highest-ranking law officer in Scotland resigned over the IMB

& The UK’s special envoy on media freedom, Amal Clooney (yes, that one) quit over IMB

3. The former (Tory appointed) ambassador to USA said the IMB was "hugely damaging to our international reputation"

4. Those snowflake liberal Remoaners Toby Young, Peter Hitchens and Tim Montgomerie turned on the govt over IMB. As did every living former-Prime Minister.

5. Joe Biden said there would be no UK/US Trade Deal if the IMB went ahead

But, Iain Duncan Smith said "we don’t need lectures" from Joe Biden

Trump’s special envoy to Northern Ireland also said there would be no Trade Deal

Apparently, Iain Duncan Smith does need lectures. Who knew?

6. Oh, and IMB also includes a provision allowing the government to break absolutely any law, absolutely any time!!!!!

7. Unrelated, I’m sure, but the number of "problem drinkers" in England doubled this year

So the government cut funding to alcohol addiction services

8. Dominic Raab, whose job it is to understand the Good Friday Agreement, admitted he hasn’t read the Good Friday Agreement

His excuse is: "it’s not a novel". True. Novels tend to be longer than 35 pages, aren't vital to solving conflicts that killed 3600 people

9. The Prime Minister, who literally voted to break a deal he signed with the EU, said the EU was "not negotiating in good faith"

The next morning, Northern Ireland minister and arch memo-misser Brandon Lewis went on TV and said "I believe the EU is negotiating in good faith"

10. It was revealed the Smart Freight System to handle post-Brexit trade won’t be ready until at least April 2021.

That’s at least 4 months without a freight handling system, during the time of year we rely on food imports the most

11. The Road Haulage Association said a meeting with Michael Gove to discuss border checks provided "no clarity" and was "a washout"

12. An official report says 2-day queues at Dover in January are "a certainty"

So the government closed a Covid test site in Kent, to convert it into a lorry park, in what experts (well, me) are calling "the world’s shittest game of whack-a-mole"

13. The government said people would be fined £1000 if they don’t self-isolate after getting a positive test

And then all tests ran out in the 10 worst-hit Covid hotspots

And then all home testing kits ran out, nationally

And then the website for booking tests broke, and just showed a series of error messages.

And then the government said the system was under strain because people were asking for tests when they didn’t know they were infected

So [deep breath] you must self-isolate after getting a test that doesn’t exist, and you can only get a test if you already know the result

14. Naturally, honesty no-fly-zone Home Office Secretary Priti Patel went on Radio 4 and announced tests were available everywhere and there were "no problems getting tests"

Same day - same hour, in fact - Prime Minister Boris Johnson said the testing system "has huge problems"

Jacob Rees-Mogg, who simply cannot shut up about fish, said we should stop the "endless carping" about not being tested for a fatal infection

15.Prime Minister Boris Johnson went on national TV and announced a "£100bn moonshot" approach to Covid, which would test "10m people per day"

Three days later, in front of a Parliamentary Committee, said he "didn’t recognise" the figure of 10m a day

And it was reported his half-brother is on the board of the business that would get most of the £100bn budget, which I’m sure is just a massive coincidence

Officials branded the moonshot as "Moonfuck"

16. And then Health Secretary Matt Hancock had to ask other cabinet ministers to stop referring to him as "Matt WankCock"

Despite appearances, these are not 7 year old boys

17. Food news, and Tory MP Douglas Ross said "I have seen the difference free school meals can make, and I want to make sure nobody falls through the cracks"

Douglas Ross voted against free school meals

18. Prime Minister Boris Johnson said we cannot put punitive restrictions on food imports from the EU (to force them to give up on Ireland), or we will starve

And then, minutes later, he agreed with a Brexiter MP who said we SHOULD put punitive restrictions on food imports from the EU

19. Prime Minister Boris Johnson said "I venerate our civil service" after sacking the innocent heads of multiple departments to protect friends including Gavin Williamson and Dominic Cummings. And as a result, people leaving the civil service rose 14% in a year

20. Planning-ahead news: an international conglomerate pulled out of a £16bn power project because the government hasn’t performed its part of the deal for the last 20 months

21. Funding cuts since 2010 meant the government had to inject £700m to prevent further education going bankrupt

22. This week it was found the government– which last week voted not to implement the recommendations of the Grenfell Tower Inquiry – has also failed to deliver its promise to remove the same dangerous cladding from at least 2000 tower blocks. Sleep well.

And then the government said files on Grenfell were "lost forever", after a laptop was wiped. Because everything is always stored on a single laptop. We all know this.

The government runs G-Cloud, its own dedicated cloud backup service, which has been active since 2012. So... yeah.

23. At a committee in parliament, an MP read out the Covid test figures. Dido Harding, in charge of testing, said “I’m sorry, that’s just not true, I don’t know where that number is from”

It was from her own report. Page 8. In bold type.

Dido Harding said "nobody could predict" a rise in demand for testing

Government scientists predicted it, and in a July report sent to Dido Harding – maybe it was a different one? - said "July and Aug must be a period of intense preparation for a September resurgence in Covid"

Oh, and standard advice says the NHS must always prepare for cold and respiratory infections to spike immediately after the return to school in September

Dido Harding wasted £13m on a "world-beating" testing app that cost £12.3m more than the German app, and didn’t work

She is now in charge of the test-and-trace service which has collapsed completely

So naturally, it was reported the government wants to sack the head of NHS England and install Dido Harding instead. Let's make the most of that successful record, eh?

24. In June the government tweeted "grab a drink and raise a glass, pubs are reopening"

The Prime Minister said "it is your patriotic duty to go out and enjoy yourselves"

This week they said the public is responsible, and "people going to the pub fuelled the rise in Covid"

So the government closed pubs at 10pm, because it’s well-known viruses only pop out for last orders.

25. Health Secretary Matt Hancock said the government "threw a protective ring around care homes"

A leaked document said care homes are now being asked to accept patients who are known to have Covid

26. Hospitals were banned from launching their own testing regime for staff and patience because… nope, nobody knows why. Just because.

27. There hasn’t been a meeting of COBRA (the government’s committee for national emergencies, headed by the Prime Minister) since 10th May

28. As Covid infections surged, Health Secretary Matt Hancock said restrictions are increasing, and pointed to a chart showing the government has "moved to alert level 3". Level 3 is "a gradual relaxing of restrictions". Not only can't he remember his own alert system, he can't even read it.

29. Despite travel restrictions, it was reported the Prime Minister flew off for a long weekend in Perugia, where his friend the Russian billionaire Evgeny Lebedev lives. He denies it, but the airport has his landing documents. So either he’s lying or... no, that’s the end of that sentence

30. In June the government spent £500m on a GPS satellite system to replace the one we lose due to Brexit

In July it was reported "we bought the wrong satellites"

This week the government cancelled the programme and began asking the EU if we can keep on using their GPS system

31. A cross-party committee of MPs found nurse-Ratched cosplayer Home Office Secretary Priti Patel "bases immigration policies on anecdotes and prejudice"

It found her dept has "no idea" what its annual spending achieves, and referred to "the wreckage that [Patel’s department’s] ignorance caused"

She is one of the favourites to replace Prime Minister Johnson

32. This is because it was reported the Prime Minister is thinking of quitting because he’s worried about his personal finances: the poor man has to "pay tax", "buy his own food" and "support 4 of his 6 children". Oh, the humanity!

33. And Jonathan Aitken – look him up – continues to get privileged access to parliament despite a ban on MPs who have served more than a year in prison. Which he did. And it was hilarious.

34. And finally, because he always needs a guest appearance, Chris Grayling, the man who awarded a ferry contract to a company with no ships, has got a £100k appointment to advise ports”-Russ

[nearlymanaged]

19. Insufferable Smartass and The Plan

Curiously, it was Sirius who suggested that him and Remus should bring their homework to Hogsmeade. When Remus pointed out that they might as well just enjoy the little daytrip with their friends and work later, Sirius started talking about how important school was and how procrastination was ‘the grave in which opportunity is buried’. In fact, he seemed eerily set on working on their Transfiguration essays together. In the end, regardless of what kind of Confundus spell had been cast on Sirius, Remus had no objections to the plan so they ran upstairs after breakfast to gather their stuff. 

When they came back down to the Entrance Hall, they cut in line (one of the perks of being sixth years) and headed straight to where James, Peter, and Lily, among some other friendly faces, were waiting for Filch to check their permission slips.

“Didn’t you two have a study date today?” James smirked at them and - with full, wholehearted, giggly approval of none other than Lily - ruffled his hair. Remus made a mental note to mention this very moment in his speech at James and Lily’s wedding, which, all of a sudden he was sure, was going to happen one day.

“Multitasking,” he nodded knowledgeably, “we’ll be drinking butterbeer while writing about the dangers of poorly executed human transfiguration.”

“I’m sure drinking butterbeer is somewhere there on the list of things not to do while you transfigure yourself,” Sirius added with the same gravitas.

“Well, if you get anything written at all, I’ll copy some of it later,” James looked at him while buttoning his jacket up.

“Why would you even suggest such a thing!?” Sirius exclaimed but Remus also caught him winking.

It just so happened that it was a beautiful spring day. Most of the students had no interest in hanging out at Three Broomsticks, or any other little shops and cafes of Hogsmeade, for more than five minutes. Remus and Sirius decided to get their homework out of the way first, so they headed for the pub, with the promise of meeting up with the rest of their friends at Honeydukes later.

Sirius insisted on paying for their butterbeers, which Remus accepted, albeit reluctantly. “I’ll get you something at Honeydukes,” he bobbed his head as Sirius followed him to one of the booths with two glasses in his hands. He also just so happened to sit down on the same side of their table, right next to Remus. But, of course, it made sense, because they were going to do homework together…

“Nah, just let me treat you to this.”

“Alright, what did you do?” Remus’ mouth split into a tentative, yet mischievous grin.

“What do you mean?” Sirius propped his elbow against the backrest of his seat and turned sideways, resting his right ankle on his left knee, to face Remus.

“Are you in a lot of trouble?”

“You’re deducting this from me buying you a drink?” Sirius smiled brightly, curiosity etched into his beaming eyes.

“Mixed with the fact that you’ve been set on getting away from our other friends. Are you trying to get out of detention? Look, before I casually confide in Dumbledore that I couldn’t bear to keep going if not for my best friends always there, always right at my side, I’d like to know what it is that you did to deserve a significant enough punishment that you actually want to get out of it,” Remus finished with a smirk.

“I--” Sirius frowned momentarily. “D’you know what… I think I do do that, don’t it?” He barked out a laugh. “You’re right!”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out…”

“Fuck, you are bloody amazing, you are,” Sirius gazed at him, nothing short of starry-eyed. 

“I am?..” Remus chuckled.

“But you’re wrong this time.”

“I am!?”

“I haven’t done anything. I just want to treat you to a drink, that’s it.”

“Oh…” First, Remus gaped at Sirius dumbfounded, and then a melodious laugh erupted from him. He felt giddy all of a sudden. “Alright then…”

At first, they successfully dove into their essays. Remus was pleasantly surprised to see that Sirius had, in fact, already written a few paragraphs. But then, the more they sat there in that booth, their thighs and knees always touching; the more times Sirius leaned in so very close to glance at his essay, the more his black wavy hair tickled the side of Remus’ face -- the harder it was to focus on writing about Mirabella Plunkett and whether she was or wasn’t an animagus.

“Can I ask you something?” Sirius spoke up out of the blue a while later.

“When have you ever needed permission for that?” Remus mumbled as his quill traced the last couple of words of the sentence.

“Did you ever manage to conjure a corporeal Patronus?”

“Uh…” Remus tore his gaze off his essay and met Sirius’ grey eyes.

“My question has nothing to do with what we’re currently doing, by the way,” Sirius grinned.

“I’ve gathered.”

“So?”

“I don’t know… Kind of...”

“Kind of? So yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

Remus pursed his lips and his eyebrows dipped in contemplation. He knows!? “Some kind of an animal,” he answered slowly. 

“Some kind of an animal?”

“Mhm.”

“It wasn’t a dog, was it?” Sirius smirked and Remus cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair, shuffling his gaze back down onto his homework and biting the inside of his cheeks to keep from grinning.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled nonchalantly. “I’ll have to think about it. We should finish this in the meantime.”

“And then you’ll tell me?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

Remus couldn’t have said whether it was a minute or ten that he spent pretending to read his textbook while mentally rolling his eyes at himself for getting so flustered and giddy. Finally, after another round of butterbeers paid for by Sirius, they were both done with their essays.

“I did borrow a couple of your ideas, but I changed the wording and everything,” Sirius knit his eyebrows together as he looked down at his homework.

“Let’s see…” Remus started proofreading it. He spoke again after a couple of minutes, “you wrote the same exact sentence twice here. Is there a particular reason for that or..?” He slid the essay closer to Sirius and pointed at the lines he was talking about.

“I did?” Sirius grabbed the parchment and pulled it closer to himself. “Well it’s obviously your fault. You’re distracting me.”

“I’m distracting you?” Remus’ eyebrows shot up in an amused expression when Sirius lifted his eyes from the essay.

“Yes… Did you know you’ve got ink on your nose?” Sirius’ face instantly broke out into a smile.

“I do?..” Remus tried to use a napkin dispenser as a mirror but its once shiny surface was far too dusty and scuffed up to reflect anything.

“Let me…” Sirius grabbed a napkin, touched his wand to it, and conjured a tiny bit of water to get it damp. He then reached over - although him and Remus were sitting so close that there wasn’t much reaching to do - and wiped the blue smudge off the tips of his nose.

“Thanks…” Remus touched his nose absently. Now that he thought about it, Sirius would have probably made fun of Peter for having ink on his nose and would have let James walk around with a blue stain on his face without telling him at all, just for the heck of it. 

“No worries,” Sirius sat back with a newfound cheeky smirk on his face. Remus was very much aware that his ears must have gone red and Sirius evidently felt emboldened by it. “So what’s your Patronus?”

“Didn’t you say it was a dog?” Remus mirrored his expression. “Aren’t you going to fix your essay?”

“Later… So it is a dog then?”

“It is.”

“Any dog we know or…”

Remus bit the tip of his tongue as he tried to tone his admittedly idiotic grin down at least a little bit. Clearly, Sirius knew exactly what his Patronus was, and by the looks of it, he seemed to be pretty pleased by it. Remus started loading his parchment and ink into his bag as he shrugged in response to the question. “I think you know. Now, if we’re done with Transfiguration, why don’t we go find the others?” He got up and swung the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

“The...others?.. Wait, no!” Sirius grabbed his things and recklessly stuffed them into his bag, probably breaking his quill in the process. By the time he got up to his feet, Remus was at the door, holding it open for a pair of old ladies walking into Three Broomsticks, before he dove into the sunshine and crisp breeze outside.

“Oi, Lupin!” 

“Black?” Remus scrunched his nose at Sirius once the latter caught up with him.

“Remus! What is wrong with you?”

“So many things, where do I even begin…” The boy smiled sheepishly.

“Do you not like me? Am I just making it up?”

“What…”

“Haven’t you noticed that I’ve been…” Sirius shrugged animatedly, causing some passers by to cast dirty glances at them. “...swooning over you for months!? I mean, what is wrong with you?! Why won’t you see that I’m in love with you?”

A long silence wrapped around these words as they echoed in Remus’ head, and he simply stared at Sirius’ face. And it dawned on him, slowly, gradually, the meaning that Sirius’ voice carried. “I thought I was supposed to be the swooning type?” He said with a smirk springing to his lips.

“Bloody Merlin… Am I making it--”

“Can we talk? Not here?” Remus motioned at the entire length of High Street filled with people.

“Shit. Well,” Sirius mumbled as colour drained from his face. “Not like I didn’t know this was a possibility… But I will respect whatever you say. And, just so we’re clear, I don’t think this should get in the way of our friendship…”

“Sirius.”

“...because I don’t want to not know you ever again. I’m fine with being your friend…”

“Sirius, I…”

“...if that’s what you want. I just need an answer so I can move--”

Remus sighed to himself with a roll of his eyes - he couldn’t believe he was about to do this - he closed the gap between the two of them in one smooth stride, and, drowning his fingers in the black mane, pressed his lips to Sirius’, effectively cutting him off.

He had spent what felt like every waking moment of the past couple of days replaying that Truth or Dare kiss in his head, sinking deeper and deeper into the fantasy of getting to snog Sirius again. And yet - a fleeting thought flickered in his head - he wasn’t prepared for this. He couldn’t have known how dizzying it would be to feel Sirius’ arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer. He couldn’t have known how positively drunk with happiness he would feel when they pulled apart.

“I’m sorry, so rude of me to cut you off,” Remus’ lips formed a giddy grin while Sirius stared at him, seemingly dumbstruck, still holding him close. “What was it that you were saying?”

“I…” He blinked rather comically and gave the tiniest shake of his head. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Could you, please, repeat what you just did?”

Remus felt his heart quite literally expand in his chest as they kissed again, happy smiles permanently stuck on their faces.

* * *

“So you’ve been swooning over me?” Remus beamed sheepishly as he fiddled with the lapels of Sirius’ leather jacket.

“Very much so,” Sirius nodded stoically, making a mental note to perhaps one day tell Moony about what Amortentia smelled of to him - not just yet though. 

“No, you haven’t!”

“Yes, I have,” Sirius gave another nod of his head, feeling like his own exhilarated grin could barely fit on his face. He could hardly believe what had just happened. “Ask anyone we know.”

“What?..”

“Yep, everyone knows I fancy you.”

“W-what?”

“Oh yeah. James knows, Peter knows, I’m pretty sure Lily knows, and probably all her friends. Definitely Marlene and Mary. Everyone who’s seen us snog the other night knows. I’ve a feeling McGonagall knows too. Dumbledore probably knows as well, seeing as he keeps such a close eye on you. Madam Pomfrey? Ten galleons says she knows. The house elves know it, I think. Regulus shouted a weird insult at me the other day that suggests that he knows as well. Speaking of Slytherins, I wouldn’t be surprised if Snivellus knew. Who else?..” Sirius stared off into the distance, scratching his chin as he did.

“What…are you talking about...” Remus was squinting at him now.

“Oh yeah, everyone knows. Honestly, I thought you’d have figured it out by now yourself.”

Remus’ face split into a sunny smile all of a sudden. “Would have been easier if you had told me.”

“Last I checked, you snogged the living hell out of me so I’m hardly the one to take all the blame. Besides, I’ve tried telling you.”

“No, you haven’t,” Remus shook his head with an ever present smirk.

“I have too. Numerous times.”

“When?!”

“I don’t know, every day for the last couple of months,” Sirius shrugged, only vaguely aware of the hairs on the back of his neck standing up in some kind of electric excitement. He must have looked like an idiot too, he was sure, gazing at Moony the way he did. But he couldn’t help himself. Nothing had ever felt so unequivocally good and right, and if Sirius didn’t know better, he could have sworn he was dreaming. 

“What?” Remus scrunched up his nose, causing Sirius to chuckle.

“You,” he answered with an unabashed dreaminess permeating his voice.

“I know,” Moony’s lips formed a smug little smile. “You’ve been swooning over a disfigured werewolf with a compulsive need to correct people’s grammar - it must be tough.”

“Those are two of my favourite things about you. Always have been. That hasn’t changed.” Sirius rebutted without missing a beat, leapt over to Remus’ side, and took his hand, lacing their fingers together, which elicited a chuckle from the boy. “What?” Sirius nudged him with his shoulder.

“Nothing,” Remus shrugged and looked down at their linked hands. “I’m just really excited, I suppose.”

“I’ve never seen you laugh out of excitement before.” 

“Maybe I’ve never been this excited before, then.”

“I know I haven’t,” Sirius said and, only allowing himself a split second’s hesitation, lifted his free hand to cup Remus’ face and drew him into another kiss.

When their lips broke apart, their foreheads remained glued together, resting against each other for another moment. “Please tell me you didn’t write that Valentine’s day poem...”

A tickled laugh erupted from Sirius. “That was absolutely my own fault for allowing too much creative liberties…”

“As in, you actually hired that dwarf?” Remus arched his eyebrows as they fell into step side by side.

“I did. I also made a heart in your porridge that morning but you called it a butt, you uncultured troll.”

“That’s ‘uncultured troll that you’ve been swooning over’, excuse you.”

Sirius stopped dead in his tracks and when Moony - who also stopped, since they were holding hands - peered at him curiously, Sirius tugged him a little closer. “I am so into you,” he spoke barely above a whisper.

“Even though I fold my socks?” Remus attempted a nonchalant chuckle but his blushing ears gave him away.

“Even though you fold your socks.”

“Even though I’m a monster?”

“For the millionth time, Moony, shut the fuck up,” Sirius frowned momentarily. 

“Calling it something else only increases--”

“Yeah, I know, says Dumbledore. Whatever. I’d still rather call you ‘honey’ or ‘love’ or ‘handsome’-- or ‘nerd’, really,” he flashed Moony a charming grin before pointedly averting his eyes. “Or ‘my boyfriend’, if that’s alright with you…”

“Well, seeing as I’ve fancied you since about fourth year…”

“What?! Where was I?!”

“Fourth year?..” Remus stared off into the distance, squinting slightly, scratching his chin as he did. “If I remember correctly, you had a crush on that one sixth year Slytherin girl.”

“Unbelievable…”

“In fact, I think you went through a phase that year where you were only interested in older girls, so...”

“No, I mean… What was wrong with me?”

“Well, just off the top of my head--”

“It’s a rhetorical question, you insufferable smartass,” Sirius’ eyes glistened mischievously and then he planted a kiss on Remus’ lips - because he could, finally, after all those months.

“And you’re absolutely sure you want to be romantically affiliated with an insufferable smartass?” Remus sounded slightly out of breath when he spoke, a giddy smile painted across his face.

“More than anything, quite literally.”

Remus laughed - giggled - again, and Sirius felt like his feet were about to leave the ground; he was that full of love and of dizzying happiness. And that was his new favourite sound all of a sudden - one that he knew was for him only. 

“That summer after our fourth year...” He slid his hands into Remus’ jacket pockets - either for lack of knowing what to do with his hands or for a reason to touch his boyfriend Remus. “...was the summer when we talked on the phone a lot.”

“It was.” Moony gave a nod of his head and one of his trademark inquisitive looks.

“It was a bit romantic, wasn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” Remus chuckled lightly. 

“I’d really missed that this last summer. You’ll have to come visit this summer break!”

“Will I have to sleep on the floor of your bedroom this time?” Remus teased.

“I think I prefer the bed, but whatever you say. We can do the floor, we can do it wherever,” Sirius went on with exaggerated coyness etched into his features. “I’ll do it any place and any way you want.” 

“You say all these facetious, idiotic things,” Remus mumbled low, slowly bringing his hands up to Sirius’ face, squinting at him ever so slightly, “and you wear these dangly earrings and this dung eating grin, and I simply can’t…” Without finishing the sentence, Remus kissed Sirius senseless. 

Finally, Sirius snaked his arm around Moony’s waist and they started down the street again. They chatted as they walked, exchanging flirtatious lines and smiles, and Sirius caught his imagination painting an exciting picture of everyone finding out about him and Remus. A part of him could hardly wait for it. It was the same part that wanted to get atop the Astronomy Tower just to shout to the world about his boyfriend Remus, just to share his amazing luck with everyone. 

But at the core of his being, as he gazed into those beaming green eyes, Sirius wanted nothing more than to see Moony smile the way that he was smiling at him then - every day, for as long as they lived.  

The two of them slowly made their way to Honeydukes. It turned out to be the busiest shop in town, crawling with Hogwarts students. They stopped a few feet away from the entrance, allowing two small gaggles of third years to cross their path.

“D’you think...do you reckon it’s going to be strange? For James and Peter...” Remus smiled at Sirius sheepishly, his eyebrows dipping in dubiety. 

“Oh,” Sirius burst out laughing, his eyes glistening as he cupped Remus’ face with both of his hands, gently brushing his fingertips against the freckled skin, “oh, my love! They’re going to be relieved, trust me.”

“Are they?” Moony’s face slowly mimicked Sirius’ grin.

Before too long, the two boys went into Honeydukes where Remus, standing on his toes, located their friends huddled at the far end of the shop. Sirius started weaving his way through the sea of people, holding Remus’ hand in his - as they had done before when in crowded places. But this time, it felt different, far more exhilarating, Sirius thought.

By the time they crossed the room, however, they realised that their friends had gone. “Oh, there they are...and they just walked outside,” Remus followed them out with his gaze.

The two of them turned around, joking about, still holding hands, and Sirius led the way towards the exit. When they were almost at the door, they heard a familiar voice, speaking just outside, just out of sight.

“...and then they won’t be able to wriggle their way out of it!” Peter exclaimed triumphantly.

“Sirius won’t,” James spoke up next, “but who knows what lie Remus will come up with. The boy’s a bloody master at denial and dodging questions.”

At these words, both Sirius and Remus looked at each other, the same curiosity reflected in their faces. But before they could make the decision to either remain hidden or join their friends outside, Lily’s voice carried: “Trust me, it’ll work. They’ll be in each other’s arms by the end of it.”

“Or are you just saying that because you actually want to pretend to be on a date with me?”

Sirius and Remus both frowned and then almost broke out laughing at the same time in response to James’ words. 

“You wish, Potter!” Lily let out a melodious laugh and then spoke again, more sternly this time. “It’ll work. They fancy each other, but they’re both too stupid to make the first move. We just need to nudge them a little in the right direction. Don’t tell me this isn’t a brilliant plan?”

“Fine, it is. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t want to pretend to be on a date with me, does it?”

“Give it a rest, will ya, lad?” Peter’s exasperated, yet absolutely defeated voice caused Sirius to slap his hand over his own mouth to keep from laughing, while Remus clutched his chest, wheezing soundlessly. “I think the plan’s brilliant. And frankly, I’m tired of the whining and sighing.”

“Whose whining and sighing?” Remus whispered at Sirius but he just bit back a grin and shushed him.

“Peer pressure is a powerful weapon,” James quipped, making Lily and Peter chuckle outside. 

“Oh, I can’t wait!” Lily squealed.

“But what if they get together before then, on their own?” Peter asked and, after several silent seconds, during which they probably exchanged looks, the three Gryffindors burst out laughing.

“Good one, Wormy!” Lily cackled, to Sirius’ deep surprise.

“But seriously,” James spoke quieter now, “to be able to do this for two of my best friends is an honour. You know, I think it’s a privilege to be a part of it…”

“Gosh, you sound like they just asked you to be the best man…”

“Well, Sirius certainly will, won’t he?!”

“See,” Sirius turned to Remus and whispered with a playful smile, “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that everyone knows.”

“I can’t believe this…” Remus shook his head slowly, staring blankly into space. “I can’t believe they’re plotting like that, behind our backs.”

“It’s interesting how confident they all are that you fancy me.”

Remus looked over to Sirius’ face again and was met with a cheeky smirk. “I know, it is interesting,” he played dumb, although not very successfully. “Is it bad that I kind of want to go along with their plan just to see what would happen?”

“But it wouldn’t make any sense if-- Wait…” Sirius’ smile faded. “You mean, pretend that we didn’t just snog multiple times and go along with their plan?”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

An outraged gasp erupted from Sirius as he shot Remus a dirty look. “Are you ashamed of me?!”

“Yes… Yes, you got me,” the boy uttered in a monotone.

“I’m just yanking your wand, Moony,” Sirius barked out a laugh at his boyfriend’s sarcasm. “Naturally, we have to do it.”

“Who are we if we don’t do it?”

“Certainly not Marauders.”

“A disappointment to ourselves, really.”

“And to all future generations of delinquents.”

“Besides, who are we to deny James the opportunity to go on a fake date with Lily?”

“Nothing but scoundrels if we get in the way of it.”

“Well, shall we?” Remus nodded his head in the direction of the exit.

Sirius quickly scooped up both of Moony’s hands and pulled him a little closer. “You make me so happy - always - but especially today.”

And they kissed, again, just inside Honeydukes, feeling like no one else was there, like no one could see them, even though it was brimming with people.

“Ah, there you are, we were looking for you,” Sirius drawled, a giddy smile permanently plastered all over his face, as he and Remus walked outside - no longer holding hands.

“We were looking for you!” James leapt over to the two boys and hooked his arms around their shoulders.

“Did you get your chocolate supply?” Lily looked over at Remus.

“Believe it or not, I’m still stocked from last time.”

“Oh? That is a little worrisome. How’s your blood sugar level?” She grinned.

“It’ll get me through the day.”

“What’s going on?” Peter, seemingly completely uninterested in the conversation, looked at Sirius curiously.

“What do you mean?” He shrugged with his hands buried in his pockets, fully aware that he must have looked nothing short of drunk - because that was close to how he felt.

“You two look awfully happy…” Peter shuffled his gaze onto Remus.

“We do?” Sirius asked brightly. “Moony, what do you think? How come we look so awfully happy?”

“Oh, that would be the euphoria of having finished our homework, Padfoot,” he answered with a radiant smile.

[masieofthevalley]

All I Really Want is You (Spideypool) - Chapter Thirteen

Find the Masterlist for this fic here! Read this fic on AO3! Check out my Ko-Fi if you would like a commission!

Summary: “Who are you, the big bad wolf?” She snarked. She mentally congratulated herself that her voice hadn’t betrayed the fluttering in her gut.

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?”

Peter Parker is an exhausted and overworked student in her senior year of college. Sleep-deprived and running on coffee and fumes, Peter really just wants to get through this semester. On a rare coffee run to ensure that she doesn't fall asleep on patrol or in her textbooks again, she quite literally stumbles upon Deadpool. Try as she might, she just can't stay away from him, and along the way, she finds herself in the middle of a nefarious plot between HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D.

A/N: Hello, everyone! Today’s chapter is Chapter Thirteen: Accidentally in Love. This chapter is named after the song Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows. 

I tried to look up a page of phrases you should say to order in Italian, but it didn’t go very well, so I’m very sorry about that. I used Google Translate when Wade was speaking with Italian, so please forgive me for that!

As always, there is a playlist for this fic, and you can find it on YouTube and Spotify. Spotify won’t play in order unless you have Spotify Premium. You don’t need to listen to it in order, but each chapter has a specific song associated with it. There is also a song associated with the entire fic, which is She Looks So Perfect by 5 Seconds of Summer.

This chapter does include NSFW content, and it’s toward the end of the chapter!

If you liked this chapter, like, share, and reblog, and please leave comments! They make my day, and I will gladly respond. You can also head over to my AO3 and comment there, and I will also respond there! Enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen: Accidentally in Love

Chapter Summary: Peter and Wade’s date ends in a surprise visit to a skatepark, and Peter makes a startling revelation. 

“Right this way, Bambi. Best seats in the house,” Wade proclaimed with a sweep of his arm, indicating that Peter should climb into the booth. They were at a tiny, hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant; Peter wasn’t sure how far away they were from Sister Margaret’s because she had been distracted during their walk by the chatter coming out of Wade’s mouth, but it couldn’t have been that far from the bar. There were two tiny windows on either side of the restaurant’s door, but they were blacked out, creating a suspicious-looking building, at least from the outside. Until the moment they had walked in the door, Peter was worried that Wade had taken them to the wrong place. But, no, they were in the smallest restaurant that Peter had ever been in, and it was very warm and smelled like garlic and parmesan cheese. 

Peter climbed into the booth and put her coat down beside her. Compared to the frigid temperatures outside, the restaurant was a tropical paradise. Wade showed no sign of discomfort from the heat, however, as he sat down opposite her on the other side of the table. Peter noted that not only had he chosen the only table in a corner, but he had also sat on the side of the table that would grant him the view of the entire restaurant. She wondered if that was leftover ingrained training from his time in the Special Forces, or maybe it was a part of his mercenary training instead? Knowing the layout of a room seemed like an essential skill for someone with Wade’s job. Bad Peter, focus on Wade, not his job. 

And like that, she was zeroing in on Wade, who was squirming around in his seat while looking at a handwritten menu made out of cardstock. Peter picked hers up, and after realizing that she couldn’t read any of it but the names of a few types of noodles since it was written in Italian, she quickly set it back down. Wade perked his head up, and his mask raised an eyebrow. 

“Need some help there, Bambi?” Peter shook her head and played with one of the napkins that were on the table. Her cheeks still had yet to recover from their almost kiss back at Sister Margaret’s, and the heat in the restaurant was doing nothing to calm the redness in her face. 

“Order anything you want, Baby Girl. Tonight’s on me,” Wade cheerfully announced, setting his menu down too. 

“I have money, Wade. I can pay for me if not both of us,” Peter argued, frowning at him. Irritatingly, Wade just laughed in response. 

“No can do, Baby Girl. If I let you pay, you’d be bankrupt into next year. You don’t know how much pasta I can put away yet, but you will pretty soon,” Wade chuckled, mimicking wiping a tear away from his eye lenses. Peter scowled; it seemed that Wade didn’t know exactly how much pasta she could put away either. 

“I mean it, I just got paid. I’m good!” Peter promised, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Wade stopped laughing and tilted his head. Not for the first time, Peter wondered what he was thinking. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Honey, or offend you,” Wade said softly, one hand coming up and across the table to cup Peter’s cheek. She desperately wanted to lean into it, to feel his fingers tangle in her hair, but she also wanted to stand her ground. 

“I’ve just got a lot of money laying around that I never spend, and I’d rather you spend your paycheck on things you actually need like groceries or something. And I eat a lot, Sweetheart, I’m afraid I’d put you out on the street,” Wade continued, his thumb running back and forth over Peter’s cheek. It was so close to her bottom lip, she could almost taste the leather. 

“I know you make a lot of money, it’s just, I can take care of myself too,” Peter muttered, wholly distracted by Wade’s hand. He pulled it away, setting it down on the table between them, and Peter had to restrain herself from letting loose the most desperate whimper known to man. However, she must have done a horrible job at disguising her desires because Wade barked out a laugh. 

“Fine, you brat, here, take it back,” Wade conceded quietly, settling his hand back on Peter’s cheek. Peter allowed herself one sigh, and she held onto Wade’s hand for a few seconds with her own before she put both of them down on the table. Sheepishly, she looked back up at Wade. The smile stretching his mask was blinding. 

“I’m not denying you can take care of yourself, Peter,” Wade finally said, rapping the knuckles of his free hand on the table. “But I did pick the restaurant after all, and I’d just like to spoil you a little. Let me? Next time, you can pay, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye!” 

“M’not sure that’s how that goes,” Peter shook her head with a small smile before straightening as she realized what Wade had said. “Next time?” 

“Well, if tonight goes well, which so far, it is,” Wade smirks with a pointed look at their clasped hands. Peter’s blush burned brighter. “I’d like there to be a ‘next time,’ Bambi.” 

“Me too,” Peter confessed, her voice barely audible. Their quiet moment was interrupted by a waitress coming up to their table. They had been talking while they waited for at least half an hour, but the restaurant was completely full. 

“Cosa vorrebbe ordinare?” she asked, leaning her hip against the table. Peter, now feeling self-conscious, hastily tried to let go of Wade’s hand, but his grip was steel tight, and he refused to let her go. 

“Una grande ciotola di spaghetti per favore,” Wade said confidently, and Peter was pretty sure he butchered every word of that sentence. It sounded like Wade had just spoken directly from Google Translate. Like she agreed with Peter’s thoughts, the waitress rolled her eyes and turned to Peter, raising an eyebrow as she waited for him to speak. 

“Grande lasagna,” Peter said with a straight face, knowing good, damn, and well that she sounded like an American tourist. It looked like the waitress was fighting a grin, but she just nodded with another roll of her eyes and left. She came back almost immediately with two cups of water and plopped those on the table. 

“Where’d you learn Italian?” Peter asked Wade as she drained half of her glass, suddenly nervous that she was left alone with him again. What the fuck was wrong with her? 

“Google Translate,” Wade deadpanned, and Peter nearly choked on her drink. She coughed a few times and took one more sip before putting her cup down. 

“No wonder it sounded so bad,” Peter snarked. “I never said Italian was my specialty, you brat,” Wade squawked, “I took Spanish in high school, if you must know.”

“Oh, so what can you say in Spanish?” Peter played along, eyebrows raised in questioning. 

“¿Donde esta la biblioteca?” Deadpool asked with a shit-eating grin on his mask. Peter burst into laughter, snatching her hand back so she could clutch at her stomach with both hands. Her face hurt from the smile stretched across her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she laughed this much. 

“Holy shit, Petey-Pie, keep on smiling. Baby Girl, it’s gotta be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Wade marveled, his own smile gentle and warm. Peter continued to giggle softly until her amusement was gone, leaving her with a pleasant and tender feeling in her chest. 

“Oh, please teach me your ways, Professor Wilson,” Peter teased, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. Even though she wasn’t looking at Wade, Peter could feel that the air between them was stretched thin with tension. 

“Oh, Baby Girl,” Wade growled, and Peter immediately felt her insides twist together in a knot. “There are so many things I’ll teach you, just you wait.” 

Peter swallowed, and against her wishes, the smallest of whines left her throat. Wade closed his eyes in what looked like restraint and groaned quietly, shifting in his seat. Before either one of them could say another word, their waitress was back, sliding large pasta bowls in front of each of them. The smell of fresh tomato sauce and mozzarella broke through the fog covering Peter’s brain, and her stomach gurgled. 

“Grazie!” Wade chirped, tucking a napkin into the neck of his suit. The waitress rolled her eyes with a laugh and a smile in Peter’s direction before walking off again. 

Peter grabbed her fork and dug into her plate. She moaned at the first bite; it was the first proper meal that she’d had in weeks. Her paychecks had been small the last few months; Triple J hadn’t been giving her nearly as many assignments as usual, and that meant ramen noodles for every meal except breakfast. Breakfast was always one cup of - usually, instant - scalding hot coffee with entirely too much sugar. God, she hadn’t even had Starbucks since that first week after she met Wade. What she wouldn’t give for another cappuccino. 

Peter looked up, trying to distance herself from her longing thoughts of Starbucks, and noticed that Wade hadn’t started eating yet. His mask still covered his entire face, and he appeared to be making no effort to remove it. 

“Wade? Aren’t you hungry?” Peter asked, wiping away the sauce that was probably all over her mouth. She tilted her head to the side as the expression on Wade’s mask remained the same. 

“No, you go ahead, Baby Girl, I’m fine,” Wade said, his voice almost sounding authentic, but Peter knew better. She could hear the false notes in his tone, and his posture was too stiff to be relaxed. 

“Look, if it’s the mask, it’s no big deal, it’s fine, really!” Peter promised, her hands gripping onto the edge of the table. Wade shook his head. 

“No, Honey, honest, just go ahead and eat-”

“Look, I’ll put on my beanie.” Peter stuck her hand in her coat pocket, grateful that she had brought her hat after all. “And I’ll just keep my eyes down, and you can just eat like normal, it’ll be fine!”

“God, I do not deserve any of this, don’t deserve you,” Wade whispered, and if Peter hadn’t had gotten enhanced hearing from the Spider Bite™, she never would have heard it. 

“Keep your hat off, Sweetheart. You shouldn’t have to cover up your lovely face just so my ugly mug can eat. Just don’t want you to lose your appetite is all,” Wade insisted, putting a hand over Peter’s. She cautiously dropped it onto the table with a raised eyebrow and looked down at her food anyway when Wade started to roll up his mask. 

“You can look. Just make sure you lean over when you blow chunks,” Wade muttered, and he picked up his fork and started to poke around at his spaghetti. Peter looked up in a cursory glance, and her next bite of lasagna never made it into her mouth. Instead, her hand stopped dead in its tracks and just kind of dangled there in front of her face. 

Wade had only rolled his mask up to the bridge of his nose, but Peter could still tell that he was gorgeous. His jawline was sharper than it looked through his mask, and Peter wanted to cut herself on it and watch the blood drip down his neck. Wade’s skin was pale pink and covered and crisscrossed with scars that were just slightly darker in color, and each of them appeared to be different. There wasn’t any pattern or rhythm in them that Peter could make out. Wade’s nose was slim, and Peter’s eyes were finally drawn to his lips. They were full and flesh-colored, covered in the same scars that made up the rest of Wade’s skin, but Peter didn’t care. Peter’s mind went blank with want, the urge to kiss Wade so strong and present, and she had to restrain herself from crawling across the table and plopping herself down in his lap. 

“Well, you don’t look like you’re going to projective vomit everywhere,” Wade commented, shoving another bite of spaghetti in his mouth. He was eating at a pace that rivaled Peter’s, and the only thing that made Peter even slightly squeamish was the fact that he had talked with his mouth full. 

“Huh?” Peter asked, still looking at Wade’s lips. 

“Earth to Petey-Pie, I”m up here,” Wade said, chuckling a little at the end. He waved his hand a few times in front of Peter’s face, and she shook her head as she broke herself from her trance. 

“M’sorry, didn’t mean to stare,” Peter muttered as she picked up her fork again. When had she dropped it? She managed to eat two more bites before the thoughts floating around in her head left her mouth. 

“Just really pretty,” Peter whispered, cheeks burning hot. “Your lips are like wow, and your jaw is like woah, and your chin is really pretty and your dimples, s’nice.” God, she wished she could stop talking. Why couldn’t she stop talking? She used to do this shit with Gwen too, and she would just laugh and kiss Peter to shut her up. Would Wade do that? She wanted him to do that. 

“You are just a dream come true, Baby Girl. Never gonna let you go,” Wade murmured, a soft look coming over his face. His face was so much more expressive - how was that even possible? - without his mask, and Peter nearly swooned. She bit back her response, hiding it under her tongue. Even though his comment had been a little extreme, especially for a first date, Peter had a feeling that “Yes, please,” wasn’t the right response. At least, not yet. 

They made idle chit-chat through the rest of their meal, and Peter was extremely pleased that Wade didn’t roll his mask back down when they finished. While getting ready to leave, Wade asked what was wrong, and Peter was forced to own up to the grumpy expression on her face. 

“Don’t wanna go home yet,” Peter confessed, tugging on the ends of her coat. A big smile coated with mischief crossed Wade’s face. 

“I know just the place, Sweetheart,” he said, scooping up her skateboard from the floor. He offered it to her, and she carried it out of the restaurant in her freehand. 

Full and content, Peter left the restaurant, happy to let Wade guide them to wherever he had decided they needed to go. They walked for about fifteen minutes, going up one street, across another, and then making a left onto one final street. Their destination appeared to be a skatepark, and at almost 11 PM at the end of October, it was entirely empty. 

“Figured you could skate off dinner if you wanted,” Wade said with a shrug, nodding his head to Peter’s board. “Y’know, ‘he was a skater boy, she said see you later boy,’ and all that shit.” 

Peter laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, that’s cool with me. You want me to show you a few tricks?” 

“If you want,” Wade agreed, leading them into the abandoned skatepark. Once inside, he fell back, so Peter took the reigns to guide them further into the park. She’d been here once or twice before, so she took him over to one of the half-pipes and gestured that he should sit. Peter shrugged out of her coat, much to Wade’s protests, and she threw it at him with a grin over her shoulder. 

“Keep it warm for me!” She shouted as she took off down the half-pipe. The coat was too thick to skate with comfortably, and she’d get too hot too quickly to have any kind of fun. When she looked back at Wade, he was snuggled up beneath the fabric, and she laughed. It looked like doll clothes spread out over his lap like that. 

“Yeah, keep laughing, Short-Stuff! I’ve got the best view in the house right here lookin’ at you, Honey-Buns!” She was wondering when Wade was going to make his first ass comment of the night. 

Peter spent a few moments getting her momentum, just going up and down on the half-pipe. She hadn’t been to a skatepark in a while, and she was a little rusty as far as tricks went. She did a few basic ones for Wade, pausing between each one to smile at his clapping and cheering before moving on to some of the more complicated ones. She skated around the park a few times before making her way back to Wade. She set her board down gently in front of her. 

“How’d I do?” she asked, shaking her fringe out of her face. Wade stood up with a leer, and Peter gulped. Wade moved toward her, and she backed up, matching him step for step. He moved gracefully, like a predator, and Peter’s blood started to race as she realized that this was the first time since she became Spider-Woman that she was the hunted instead of the hunter. She liked it, liked feeling like prey when it was Wade who was the predator. 

“It’s a 10 from me, Sweetheart,” Wade crooned, stepping even closer. Peter looked from side to side, trying to figure out if there was somewhere for her to go. She took a few steps to the right, and Wade matched her pace, pushing himself even closer. She had a thought of making a break for it, Wade chasing after her, his hot breath panting down her neck. That made her insides warm even further. She’d save that for another day. 

“Did you like performing for me, Bambi?” Wade asked, pressing himself flush against Peter. Her back was pushed up against the chain-link fence, and Peter tangled her fingers in the links on either side of her, trying to resist from reaching out and touching Wade. 

“Asked you a question,” he reminded, gently, his voice firm but still warm. Peter opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. She just nodded, her body on fire from Wade’s touch. 

“Saw you looking to the side, looking around like you were gonna run, Petey-Pie,” Wade continued, running his nose down the side of Peter’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed at the feeling of his skin just barely brushing against hers. 

“You wanna run, Baby? Want me to chase after you?” Wade’s lips were at Peter’s ear, and she shivered, the metal from the fence digging into her fingers. One of Wade’s hands reached out and gently grasped onto her hands one at a time, freeing them from the cold fence. He gathered them both in his hand and held them against his chest, letting go when Peter tangled her fingers in the straps of his suit. 

“You’d like it, running around with nowhere to go,” Wade whispered, licking a wet, hot stripe up Peter’s neck. It contrasted with the biting cold of the wind, and the whimper that left Peter’s throat was strangled and torn apart. She couldn’t remember ever making a noise that sounded like that.

“You might be fast, Bunny, but I’m faster,” Wade suddenly growled, biting down at the junction between Peter’s neck and shoulder. She cried out, head falling back against the fence. It bent beneath her weight, but she didn’t care. 

“Please, Wade, please, please,” she begged, but she didn’t know what she was begging for. She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to bite him, she wanted to touch him. 

“M’here, Sweetheart, I have you,” Wade assured her, his lips caressing her jaw. She whined. His mouth was so close and yet so far from where she wanted it.

“Mm, please? Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Peter gasped when Wade’s kisses turned sharp and biting on her neck, sucking so hard it was bound to bruise. Good, she wanted the marks, wanted the reminder when she looked in the mirror. 

“Gotcha, Honey, I gotcha, don’t worry,” Wade murmured, bringing his lips up to Peter’s. Much to her displeasure, he didn’t immediately kiss her. Peter whined as he brushed their lips together. He was tall, Wade was so tall, so when Peter tried to rise up on her toes to chase after him, he easily broke apart from her. He waited until she settled back against the fence, and then he was on her again, body pressed against hers as close as possible. Peter arched her back and whimpered, trying to press closer, trying to get his mouth back on hers. 

“Spoiled, spoiled, little Petey-Pie,” Wade chuckled, taking his lips away again. Peter growled in irritation; he was just being mean now, and he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“You’re being mean!” she snarled, pulling down on the straps of his suit so that he was leaning over her again. Wade smirked and held himself just a few inches out of reach, and Peter stretched up on the balls of her feet while simultaneously pulling Wade toward her. Finally, he was within reach, and she bit down on the free, beautiful skin of his neck. It wasn’t gentle. 

“Fuck! That hurt, you brat!” Wade growled playfully, caging Peter in against the fence. She bared her teeth at him right back, and even though she couldn’t see something in his eyes, she swore she could see something change in them. Before she could try to think about what that something could be, Wade finally kissed her. 

Peter had only kissed approximately three people in her entire life: Mary Jane, Harry Osbon, and Gwen. She and Mary Jane had ended long ago, as had her and Harry, so her last experiences with anyone had been with Gwen. Gwen had been sweet and gentle, and the furthest they had gone was the furthest Peter had ever gone with anyone: exploring each other’s tonsils and playing footsie under the table. Gwen was sweet and warm and gentle, and Peter would never, ever forget her. 

But this, Wade, was hot and harsh and unyielding. It was everything that Peter had ever wanted but had never been able to have. Wade’s mouth was rough, skin uneven from the scars that she had longed to taste, but he tasted of marinara sauce and home. He tasted like hope and electricity. 

Peter didn’t have a good track record with relationships, with keeping people, but her heart whispered Wade’s name over and over again as they kissed, and she thought maybe this time, maybe she could keep this one, this time. 

Peter wrenched her head back with a gasp, unhappy to part from Wade but needing to breathe. He seemed inclined to agree as his mouth just moved to her jaw, sucking what she was sure was going to be another bruise in a few hours. Peter fell into a fit of soft whimpers, trying to get him to suck, bite, harder. Any marks that Wade made would just disappear before tomorrow, and she wanted them to remain as long as possible, so she could remind herself tomorrow that this was real, that Wade was real. 

“Have you ever done this kind of thing before, Baby Girl?” Wade murmured against her skin, lips moving back up to her own. She caught his hand before it could tangle in her hair, and she tapped on his glove in a questioning manner, hoping he would get the memo and take them off. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin, needed the relief that skin-to-skin contact would bring. 

“N-not really, no,” Peter whispered, surging upwards to kiss Wade again. “Want this, want you.” 

“Are you sure, Sweetheart? You tell me to stop, we stop. Push me away now, tell me red, tell me anything but yes, and I’ll stop right now. We can just go home, and it’ll be fine,” Wade said firmly, lips gently resting against hers. Peter nodded and whined. 

“Yes, I want you, Wade. Yes, please, yes-” Peter’s cries were cut off as Wade took her lips in another kiss. She didn’t think she was a very good kisser, and she didn’t really know what she was doing, but she mostly just tried to copy what Wade was doing. Tentatively, she slid her tongue along his, darting back into the safety of her own mouth when he chased after her. Peter whimpered at the taste of Wade, sharp, salty, almost metallic, and Wade growled in response, pressing her back against the fence. It bent further, but neither of them seemed to care. 

“Gonna take care of you, Sweetheart, don’t you worry,” Wade promised, sliding one hand up her stomach and under her shirt toward her breasts. Peter groaned as he reached her bra, hand slipping underneath to stroke and gently pinch her nipples. Her body was on fire, and she was on edge, suddenly rocking forward against Wade’s thigh. He moaned, his voice muffled from where his head was pressed against her shoulder, and shoved his thick leg between hers, tensing as she squeezed her thighs on either side of his leg. Wade was so much, shoulders so wide and muscles so big, that Peter felt dainty and small in his arms even though she knew that they probably weighed around the same amount. Her legs would dwarf a normal person’s, but Wade’s, full of thick, corded muscle, gave her a run for her money. She arched her back again and ground against Wade’s thigh, letting him know just how much she appreciated his size. 

“So big,” Peter gasped out, head falling back as Wade continued to toy with her nipples. It was like he knew exactly where to touch her, exactly where to pull and push. He pinched one of nipples and flicked the other one, earning himself a high-pitched whine of his name. His other hand tangled in Peter’s hair, pulling her toward him, and Peter bit his lip when he kissed her again. That earned her a growl. 

“S’good, fuck, right there, Wade! So right, want you, more, please?” Peter begged. Wade obliged her, and Peter lost all of the air in her lungs when his hand slipped in her pants. Peter cried out as Wade’s fingers swiped against her, warm, thick fingers moving quickly over her underwear. 

“Christ, you’re fucking soaking wet, Baby Girl,” Wade groaned, nosing at her temple. Peter cried out as his fingers moved faster, circling her clit. “This all for me, Honey?” 

“Just you, Wade.” Peter could barely breathe. “More, more, please, fuck, right there.” 

“The mouth on you, little Bunny,” Wade growled, his voice sounding more animalistic than before. His body was tense and firm against hers, and Peter couldn’t help humping against his leg and fingers. It felt good, too good, she never wanted this to stop, oh why hadn’t they done this sooner, it was so good. 

“Almost there, Petey-Pie? Gonna be a good girl and come for me, hmm?” Wade’s voice was feral, and Peter could feel his interest, hot and hard against her hip. He ground his hips against her, moving his fingers across her clit and nipples in a rhythm that Peter couldn’t follow. 

“Please, please, can I, Wade, more, please,” Peter begged, catching Wade’s lips. “Please, let me, c’mon, wanna come, wanna come on your fingers, please, please.” 

“Be good and come for me, Sweetheart, c’mon, c’mon, Baby Girl. Come for me,” Wade urged, fingers moving at the same pace, and Peter had no choice but to obey. 

Peter’s body shivered and locked up as she fell over the edge. As she came and collapsed against Wade’s chest, she felt like she was laying outside on the grass on a summer day. She could feel the warm, comforting rays of the sun on her skin, and her whole body tingled from the pleasure coursing through her veins. She vaguely realized that Wade’s fingers hadn’t stopped moving on her body, and she shivered as the direct stimulation on her clit became too much. Usually, when she used either her hands or the toys in her bedside drawer, she stopped touching herself almost immediately after her orgasm. She was almost always too sensitive for another orgasm immediately, and her hands would fly away from herself as she fell over the peak. Wade, however, continued to touch her until she squirmed and whined and begged him not to. 

“Too much, too much, Wade,” Peter panted, even as she continued to rock her hips against him. Wade, she realized, was panting too, and he slowly stopped moving his hands over her body, slipping them from beneath her clothes. Peter tried to straighten up, but her knees were weak, so she continued to slump against Wade as she righted her clothing. Wade chuckled and kissed her, lips moving almost lazily against hers now. 

“So good, Baby Girl, so sweet, absolutely perfect,” Wade said, his voice almost a purr from how low it was. 

“Was it good for you? It was, oh my god, it was absolutely perfect for me, but, you, was it good for you?” she asked, suddenly worried because she hadn’t touched him at all. God, she still wanted to touch him. “Did you, ya know.” God, the gesture she was making toward his dick was so stupid. “Oh, did I,” Wade laughed, pulling Peter against him with a soft groan. “I came when you did, Sweetheart. That look on your face when you came will haunt all of my wet dreams for eternity. It’s enough spank bank material to last me until I’m old and gray.” 

“Wade!” Peter laughed, hitting his chest playfully. Wade joined in her laughter, and they rested against each other and the fence, a soft smile on Peter’s lips as she waited for her heart rate to calm back down. 

And right there in a vacant skatepark, just a few minutes past midnight, Peter realized she was in love. Oh, fuck.

[hockeytrashgoblin]

Ice Cold ~Part 2

A/N: Hi baby beans! Part 2 coming in hot. Hope you enjoy!! :)

Seeing my pictures in the papers sparked two things, joy and frustration.

Joy because it was so cool to see a picture I took on the front of everyone's sports section. It felt like such an accomplishment. I was really proud of myself.

Frustration because someone had taken pictures of me and William walking around, igniting rumors. I kept my scarf over the bottom half of my face for the subway ride to work. I got there on time and started taking off all the winter layers. I hoped people would forget about that picture by this point, but I was wrong.

"Hey romantic walk in the falling snow." Amy teased me, not looking up from her computer in our office.

"God has everyone seen that?"

"Pretty much. It's been on the news for like a week almost." She clicked out of what she was doing and turned to me. "So tell me everything!"

"There's not really much to tell. We walked around and talked about hockey and our mutual distrust of the general public. He walked me to the subway and I went home."

"Oh come on there has to be some better details in there than that!"

"I mean he said that I was really interesting to him and that he wanted to know me?"

"Alright I guess that's something."

"Oh! Auston Matthews hates me I'm pretty sure!"

"What? Why? Bitch what on earth did you do to Auston Matthews?"

"Nothing! He was mad that William came over to talk to me and just glared the whole fucking time."

"That's weird."

"Right?! Then I could've sworn I saw him across the road when I was going down to the subway but he just disappeared. It was probably nothing but it was so creepy feeling."

"Yeah no I don't like that. Maybe stay away from Auston if you can?"

"I'm definitely going to try to do that."

"You'll have to start after today though."

"Ugh why?"

"A bunch of the leafs will be coming through the studio today. I don't know what it's for, the debrief is on the desk but it's not that helpful. Just says who will be there. Yes William will be too. Don't act like you weren't about to run over to check."

"Hey, I wasn't gonna run. Do I look like I run?" I said gesturing to my body.

"Not really. That's fine though cuz me neither. I like your outfit today though, it's cute! Peter would like." She said wiggling her eyebrows.

"Ew don't start." I looked down at myself. Nothing special or even revealing. Black high-waisted jeans with a baggy sweatshirt tucked into them and bright yellow cheetah printed shoes.

"Well he would." She said getting up and leading the way to the studio.

"Yeah I got that."

"He likes you."

"Got that too."

"You don't like him?"

"He sent me a selfie in his bathtub the other night."

"Was it a good one..?"

"No!" I said shocked that she'd even ask. The leafs were in the studio so I lowered my voice, embarrassed.

"Hey you never know."

"Amy. There is nothing sexy or cute about a grown man sitting in a dirty bathtub. Mix the fact that he had more hair on his chest than a fucking bear and you get a lot of no thanks."

"Yeah that sounds pretty fucked."

"He asked for some bath pictures back. I said no and he didn't listen so I'm not into that at all." I shrugged, handing her the camera. I was supposed to just be assisting with lighting today. The first half of the day went by pretty quickly. We had some craft services taking care of lunch which was nice. It was clear that the team had these kinds of cliques going on. I brought it up to Amy.

"I dunno what do you mean?"

"Like they just split so fast. William, Kasperi, Auston, Mitch, Morgan. And then like literally everyone else. I just thought it was strange."

"Oou here comes lover boy."

"Shut up." I said smacking her arm.

"Poor Peter never had a chance." I glared at her until she left and William walked up.

"Hi frowny."

"Hi."

"So bathtub pictures from Peter huh?" He said with the look of mischief in his eyes.

"Man you really do hear everything. Yes he sent me a picture of him in the tub."

"That's a little forward isn't it? Maybe I'm old fashioned but that seems aggressive."

"No it is aggressive. That's why it seems like it, because it absolutely is. It was gross. Then he was trying to pressure me which was also gross."

"He tried to pressure you?"

"Yeah to send a picture back to him. He didn't accept my first no. Or my third. Or even my 10th. I'm avoiding him."

"I don't blame you." He brushed his fingers across my shoulder. "I'd kill him if I were you."

"It doesn't matter. He's not the first and probably won't be the last."

"That's so awful."

"It's fine. I'll just avoid him."

"But what if you can't?"

"Then I'll deal with it as it comes. It's honestly fine William, I can deal with it." I said putting my hand around his bicep.

"I don't want you to have to though."

"It's alright William I promise. Besides he hasn't texted me since the media ran with that picture. I'm sorry about that by the way. I guess Auston was right to hate me."

"Auston doesn't hate you. It's just complicated that's all. It's nothing against you and everything against people. He doesn't like people either."

"I guess that's fair. Tell him not to look at me like he wants to rip my head off then. It's unnerving."

"Being unnerved by him probably isn't the worst thing in the world."

"Hey Willy, who's this?" Kasperi asked swinging his arm around William's shoulder. William rolled his eyes.

"Kappy she introduced herself at the beginning."

"Sorry I wasn't really paying very close attention. These things are usually kind of boring. No offense."

"None taken. I hate it when I'm on the other side of the camera. It's awful. I'm (y/n)." I said reaching my hand out to shake his extended one.

"Kasperi. It's nice to meet you. Hopefully we'll be seeing you around more." He said grinning at William before leaving.

"Asshole."

"What did he mean by that?"

"It's just been a long time since I was interested in anything except hockey. Me and Kas are roommates and he worries about me sometimes, that's all."

"Oh I see. He seems nice."

"He is! He's a really nice guy. My best friend."

"Well then I guess it's good he doesn't hate me too."

"Auston doesn't hate you."

"I don't believe you."

"Stubborn." He said smiling as he bumped his shoulder into mine.

"That's meeeee."

"Can I get your number? Or will you be stubborn on that too?"

"I dunno.." I said pretending go think about it making him laugh.

"I promise I won't send you pictures of me in the bathtub."

"Oh alright then sure." I took his phone and typed out my number in contacts. "Although I don't think I'd really mind one from you. You still wouldn't get one back though."

"I would never ask for one."

"You're a gentleman William."

"Hardly, but I try my best."

"What are you doing after this?"

"Um I didn't really have any big plans afterwards. I have plans right after I'm done here but I'm free about 30 minutes later. Why?"

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to do something after. Like get a coffee or something maybe?"

"Why do you sound so unsure?"

"Because I am unsure?"

"But why?"

"I'd rather not go into all my insecurities right now at work."

"Alright I can respect that. We will talk about them later though, because they're silly and unnecessary in this situation."

"Are they?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Why?"

"I think you are the sweetest thing."

"William.."

"I mean it. You don't have anything to be nervous about. I'd love to get coffee with you after." He said with a warm smile.

"Okay." I said matching the smile.

The rest of the photoshoot went by pretty quickly. Whether that was because it was faster or because I was floating on cloud 9 that William didn't reject me. The boys left and I went back to the office with Amy after tearing down our little set.

"So, a date with William huh?"

"I don't know if it's a date really. It's just coffee."

"Oh come on you're blushing so hard! It's a date!"

"Shut up!"

"What did he say to you before that made you blush?"

"Man you notice everything." I mumbled.

"You could see it across the studio! Now what did he say!"

"He said he thought I was the sweetest thing and to not be so insecure around him because he thinks I'm interesting." I said blushing again thinking about it.

"This is such a date!"

"No. Now stop yelling."

"How? Tell me how this is not a date?"

"I don't know if he thinks of it as one that's all." I said shrugging.

"I do." William said making me jump.

"Holy fuck."

"At least if you wanted it to be of course."

"How long have you been standing here for?"

"Not long at all." He said with a smirk.

"Uuugh liar. You heard everything didn't you?"

"Perhaps." He said laughing as I groaned and slid down my chair. "Hello Amy, nice to see you again."

"Yeah you too Will. We're just about done here so you can take her away."

"I will do just that." He grabbed my coat off the hook and held it out. I tried to grab it but he pulled back. "Turn around."

"Uh okay.." I did as I was told and let him slip it over my shoulders. It was a strangely intimate moment. Amy broke it with a cough hiding her laugh although not very well. I kicked my shoes off and put my boots on.

"Bye (y/n) see you this weekend!"

"Yeah see you."

"Bye Amy."

"Bye Will."

We walked out of the building pretty quietly except me saying thank you to him opening doors for me. We started towards the closest Tim Horton's.

"So you didn't want this to be a date?" He asked.

"What? No of course I wanted it to be!" I blushed really hard at that one. "Uh I mean.."

"I was under the assumption that it was one but after overhearing your conversation I wasn't sure."

"No one likes an eavesdropper William." I teased elbowing him in the side. "I just didn't know if you'd want it to be."

"I told you you didn't have to be so unsure. I think you're lovely. I should be so lucky to have you want to go on a date with me."

"I think you've definitely got that backwards. I'm the lucky one."

"We could argue that all day and with how stubborn you are I'm sure you would, but I'd rather not."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Nothing to be sorry about." 

"I am pretty stubborn. It's not cute." I said laughing.

"I have a hard time believing there's anything about you that isn't cute." He said opening the door for me. 

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding once inside the warm store. William led me to the back of the store to sit. He pulled out my chair for me. I blushed again of course.

"What would you like to drink?"

"What no William I'm paying."

"I hardly think so. Tell me what you want stubborn girl."

"A small candycane hot chocolate."

"Alright. See was that so hard?"

"Don't get all grin-y and triumphant. I only gave in because you weren't going to budge."

"That's all it takes?" He asked laughing, walking away to order. He came back a minute later with drinks. "Careful it's hot."

"Thank you but you really didn't have to pay. I invited you. I feel bad."

"Don't feel bad. I have money to spare."

"It's not the money, it's the principle of it."

"I don't believe that women should pay for a first date. Or any date for that matter."

"How come? Most guys don't want to pay."

"I'm a little old fashioned, as I said the other night."

"It's like you're from a completely different time."

"Maybe I am." He said raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah maybe. You're definitely sweeter than any guy I've ever met."

"That's very nice of you to say since people say I'm heartless."

"I have a hard time believing that."

"You haven't seen me in a light that would make you believe it."

"I really don't think I would think that anyway. Even after seeing you in a light that doesn't make you look that great."

"I hope you never see me that way so we don't have to find out."

"We probably won't. I can't see you ever doing anything really bad."

"I love your faith in me. It's sweet."

"You're sweet."

"Thank you." He murmured with warm eyes.

"Um you're welcome." 

"Why are you blushing?"

"Sorry, you just do this thing and it makes me feel weird."

"I'm sorry."

"No don't be, it's a good weird. I just forget everything I'm thinking. Like my brain goes dumb or something."

"And that's a good thing?" He asked skeptically.

"Well I mean maybe not the dumb brain part but it feels good. Warm." It was almost like I forgot I was speaking out loud. I looked into his eyes and got embarrassed. "Sorry that was weird to say and probably too much, I'm so sorr-"

"Hey shh." He said putting his hand over mine. "You're fine."

"I'm just worried I'm gonna be weird and it'll be too much."

"You aren't too much. Do you want to go walk around a bit?"

"Sure I'd like that."

We walked out of the Tim Horton's and started down the road. It was really cold with the wind whipping around the buildings off the lake.

"I don't know how you're not freezing right now."

"I spend my life on ice. I'm used to the cold."

"But the wind is so awful. You don't deal with that on the ice."

"That is true. You really caught me there." He mumbled.

"It must just be cuz you're a boy. Boys never get cold."

"That could be, darling. Now tell me why you were so unsure asking me to hangout."

"So you didn't forget about that huh?"

"Pfft hardly. Tell me."

"It's going to sound so stupid to you I bet."

"Try me."

"I've just had a lot of really bad experiences with dating. I'm not usually the kind of person people want to date. They all think I'm only good for one thing if you know what I mean."

"You thought I was just messing with your feelings?"

"I dunno. You could be. You're way out of my league, you could've just felt bad for me and are being nice."

"That's so ridiculous (y/n).. I would never ever do that to you. I don't feel bad for you at all. Well maybe that you had to see a picture of Peter in a dirty bathtub." He said with a wink making me laugh.

"God it was so awful Will. I haaated it."

"Well it sounds like you had every reason to."

"That's also why I was feeling kind of bad today.. he just kind of solidified that I'm only good for sex and that isn't the kind of person I want to be."

"That is absolutely not what kind of person you are. You never have to be that person again." He said staring at me intently. I half hoped he meant that he was going to be sticking around for a long time but the insecurity in me shut that thought down.

"I have so much more to offer, ya know?"

"I don't know but I look forward to learning everything else you have to offer." He said slipping his hand into mine and intertwining our fingers. I smiled and looked up to meet his kind eyes. "If you'll permit me of course."

"I'm starting to think that all the walls I have built up are going to crumble with you."

"Good. I want that. Eventually all my guarded walls will come down too I believe. You seem to have that effect on people. I mean just look how comfortable Peter is!" He joked as I groaned loudly, making him light up with laughter. It really made me happy that I could cause that reaction.

[anime-apparently]

Hello, may I request both a female and male ( to be matched with, if that's alright to ask for) matchup please and thank you for Food wars . LINK -  The first part is shortships (.) tumblr (.) (com) (without the parentheses). You can take as much time as you need to, I don’t mind being patient & waiting.

I match you with...

NAKIRI ALICE

- Alice took interest in you upon seeing you around a lot in her classes

- she may act childish but she sees through people really well

- she keeps on bugging you to be her friend (and honestly she flirts a lot but you never notice it huhu) and soon you give in

- there are tons of moments when she'll scold you on blending in with people and trying to act the way others do

- she hates that you say you're fine even if you aren't and she hates that you think people hate you if you act as you are

- so she slowy helps you out your shell

- she's surprisingly good with handling occasional anxiety attacks

- you two share the perfectionist attitude and it takes Ryo to stop you both once you two decide to perfect a dish

- she's so happy when you start being really comfortable around her (it took a couple months) and would often send Ryo away to spend time with you

- Kurokiba Ryo kinda scares you but he's a good friend too

- both of you get bored easily so i can imagine weird trips and activities

- you two match a lot- both of you are stubborn too and while you have the temper, Alice can control hers so she's like your anger management counselor

- you normally are more distracted than her and she gets grumpy when you get distracted and not pay attention

- it was by the second year that you two got together and it was Ryo who got you two together

- holy shit you didn't expect Ryo to give you a pep talk but he did, he asked you to put your worries aside and what others would say and put your happiness first

- Alice was the one who confessed (she had been confessing since last year but you can't really pick up the signs)

- she got annoyed (jealous *cough) in one of your rants about how your cat did something and you weren't paying attention at the dish she's serving so she just slammed her lips to yours

- "See you're a good kisser! That means you'll be a good girlfriend! Bye, Ryo-kun!" *proceeds to drag you to a five star restaurant for a date*

- she teaches you how to speak in Danish and you just fall more uwu

- the amount of romance novels she had recommended to you tho

- it's surprising to you that she knows how to play videogames but when you saw her and Ryo playing Mario Kart once you understood she knew more than should be for a Nakiri

- your sarcastic side is something she treasures a lot like the burn from you like damnnn "did you hit your head when your mom held you? Oh wait, she probably didn't." fuck when you said this to Erina's dad (albeit under your breath) she just burst out laughing

- she takes great joy seeing you be clumsy because despite her childishness she's still a Nakiri who's probs perfect in everything so she's not a clutz

- she enjoys seeing you tongue tied especially if she flirts with you "Hey, that top doesn't look good on you. I think I'm the top that would look good on you." "Alice- I- aaugjnskvfjdnz."

- you get insecure about you and her's relationship because of Ryo but she assures you that she belongs to you only

- you also get insecure what would people think of your relationship

- once there was a student who brought up your sexuality and Alice snapped (she made out with you in front of everyone thaz hot)

- Ryo is insanely protective of you two especially on dates (once -actually a lot of times- when you two had a rare PDA moment, he glared at everyone who tried to even look the slightest bit disgusted)

- she pushes you to think of yourself first before others

- she's a really sweet girlfriend who brings out the best in you

- you two really go well together and you're a power couple

I match you with...

YUKIHIRA SOMA

- this boy i swear asdfghjkl

- he doesn't really know how to read a mood so he'll just randomly pair up with you and talk up a storm

- he makes you panic because there are times where he's really messy and your OCD just kicks in

- but he's the sweetest boy

- you two get in trouble a lot for being distracted in class

- he's really persistent in being friends so after a few months, you give in

- like Alice, he urges you to be more open and to be more outgoing

- he doesn't mind that you're a human chameleon and he understands it takes time

- he's really patient with you and always thrive to make sure you're comfortable

- he laughs it off if you're temper goes up and calms you down

- you two didn't get together until end of second year

- you're both dense in romance anyways and it hurts to watch you both acting all sweet and shrug it off as a friendly thing

- "what type of friend cuddles on the same bed and sleeps spooning especially if you are opposite genders" is what yuki said and honestly she's right

- it started when Soma once saw you having a panic attack and now he occasionally slips in your bed to sleep with you and make sure you're safe in his arms

- he likes seeing you tongue tied and would often tease you about it

- he likes flirting with you too and see your red face (but poor boy is probably not that good with it)

- "you know, Peter Pan said if I think of all the pretty, beautiful things I'd be able to fly. But why is it that when I thought of you I fell for you instead?"

- *cue you turning red and tripping over your words but you managed to blurt out* "did you just call me ugly or told me you fell for me?"

- in this tho you are the one who confessed, it was the simple typical confession and he's so relieved (apparently he's crushing on you too)

- you help him create weird dishes especially when you're bored and you both laugh if it tastes really bad

- there are a lot of game nights

- he doesn't really like books so you're probs the one reading while he goes and just watch you read peacefully and scrunch up your nose in distate at parts where the characters annoy you (he finds this really cute)

- this little shite probably brings spiders to show you just to scare you

- he's your pillar to lean on and he knows perfectly when to intervene if you get frustrated trying to perfect something

- you are both sarcastic and quirky so there are a lot of childish banter

- he laughs at you if your clutz side kick in before helping you up

- there are really a lot of experimental dishes you two create

- while he's impulsive at times, you tend to carefully weigh out the options so it stresses you if he accepts/initiates a food war

- he breaks your insecurities and is a really supportive boyfriend

- he always says "you are the best girlfriend in any plane of existence."

- like Alice, he might be childish but he's not ignorant

- he instantly knows if something is wrong, he makes sure your mental health is stable, he helps you express yourself more, he actually broke your habit of saying "i'm fine" when you're not

- he can see if a guy tries to flirt with you (apparently he's not daft when it's about you) and he scares them off

- he's a really caring boyfriend and knows when to cheer you up

- your fears slowly disappear because of him

- because with him you know he won't abandon you

- your relationship is built on trust and honestly you two are a power couple

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! I'm so sorry it's late but thank you for your patience. I really have the match ups lines up in my notes but I tend to procrastinate in posting them.

[green-eyed-whumpster]

My OC Universe: Rowan 118

Chapter 118 Summary: Rowan has another nightmare and Peter helps soothe him. (Tags: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @much-ado-about-whumping, @abitefullofeverything, @whump-me-all-night-long, @sky-or-something-idfk and @tears-and-lilies)

Trigger Warnings: PTSD whumpee, nightmares, mild self harm

When did I even begin feeling this way?  Rowan glanced over at Peter as he lay in bed, head covered with a pillow he dragged over himself during sleep.  Why couldn’t I be warned of this? Whatever it is. I don’t know if it even is love – but it’s maybe the closest thing I’ve ever experienced.

He restrained himself from moving over and doing what he had done with Cordelia. In hindsight it was an awful and creepy thing to do. He cringed at the thought of it. 

They had heard from Cordelia, wishing them a merry Christmas, she left a message for Peter wondering how Rowan was faring now that she had left, and had also sent a pair of soft leather boots for him, which was good because his current ones were beginning to wear out. They had been made for work at the castle, where the smooth floors and clean surfaces wouldn’t erode them quickly, and the rougher wood floors and rocks outside were harsher on their soft soles.

He was grateful she hadn’t mentioned the incident to Peter, he didn’t know how he would face that embarrassment if Peter looked at him after knowing that. Especially now knowing how he felt about his friend. Part of him wondered if he should even mention it to Peter.  

~

Peter woke up a few hours after Rowan fell asleep, he couldn’t explain why, he was perfectly warm, and he felt safe, and he didn’t have to go to the bathroom. It was odd.

He got his answer a few minutes later when Rowan began whimpering and thrashing in his sleep. It was painful to listen to the pained squeaks that broke from his lips as he twitched under the covers. Peter carefully slid out of his own bed and approached his bed silently, Olivia looked over to him, eyes wide and alert as he stood beside her, and he rested a hand on her head soothingly as he leaned over his head.

Rowan’s hands lifted to his face and Peter watched his skin dimple as his nails dug into the flesh and dragged down his tear-soaked cheeks, whining in fear and pain as his body curled up tightly into a ball.

“No! N…no…please!”

Peter couldn’t handle seeing Rowan in such pain anymore and placed his other hand cautiously on the boy’s scalp, smoothing his hair softly to try and avoid startling him awake. It was damp with sweat and tangled in Peter’s fingers as he tried to stroke it.

“Rowan,” He said gently. “Hey, hey buddy, wake up, please,” Rowan’s eyes startled open, bulging out of his skull before recognising Peter and calming down.

“Peter,” He gasped weakly, lifting his hands to wipe his cheeks. “Did-did I wake you?”

“No, no, it’s all right,” Peter soothed, removing his hand from Olivia to carefully brush the tears from his eyes. “Were you having a nightmare?” Rowan nodded as his eyes glassed up again.

“I’m sorry,” He whimpered, sniffling. “I’m sorry,” He didn’t seem to have anything else to say as he pulled himself up and Peter embraced him.

“Don’t apologise,” He said gently. “Was it a bad nightmare?” Rowan nodded against Peter’s shoulder and tightened his hands instinctively. “Do you want some company to help you go back to sleep?”

Yes.

No.

I-I don’t want to embarrass myself again.

“I-I don’t think there’s room.” He didn’t want to have to make a decision, he wanted to force Peter to determine an answer.

“I can fix that,” Peter released him and stood up, Rowan watched as he moved back to his own bed and crouched, grabbing the bedframe firmly before pulling it back. Rowan watched in surprise as Peter pushed his bed against Rowan’s and looked at him once more.

“Does this work?” He asked and Rowan looked from the bed back to him.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” He asked nervously and Peter nodded.

“Now you can have some space but won’t be so isolated, well, of course you aren’t alone,” Peter said and glanced at Olivia. “I’ll be here if you need me, now,” He finally answered, climbing back into bed and looking at Rowan through tired eyes. “Are you feeling all right?” He asked looking at Rowan – who was flushing violently at Peter’s closeness.

“I-yes, thank you,” He smiled slightly, and Peter nodded, gently helping Rowan lie back down and making sure his eyes were dry.

“We’ll keep him safe, won’t we, Olivia?” He said as he settled down beside Rowan.

“I know you will,” The boy murmured, and Peter looked over, proud of Rowan’s trust in him.

“Don’t worry,” He cooed, inching over and laying an arm carefully over his chest to secure him. “No one will touch you while I’m around.”

There was silence for a few minutes, Rowan kept thinking about how the weight on his chest was physical now, and not just a figment of his imagination. Peter smelled different, usually he smelt like wood shavings, pine needles and smoke, but since he had been inside for so long, he began smelling like the soap he used for the dishes and freshly washed fabric, and still smoke.

“Would you like to tell me about your nightmare?” Peter asked heavily, his eyes were closed but Rowan knew he was still paying attention.

“Do you think it could help?” He asked weakly. He also knew Peter wouldn’t suggest it unless he was trying to console him.

“You’re so tightly shut up; you would probably benefit from a little venting.” Peter reasoned.

“Maybe,” Rowan breathed.

“You don’t have to if it would make you uncomfortable,” Peter replied and rolled onto his back, his arm moving to gently grip Rowan’s bicep, ensuring contact remained despite moving.

“I’d like to, it’s just, they’re really weird.” Rowan said gently. “Like, they don’t make sense,”

“Dreams rarely do,”

“That’s true,” Rowan hesitated for a moment before shifting slightly closer to Peter, a hand resting over the one he held his arm with.

“I-I don’t know why, but we were sitting at a big table,” He began softly. “William was beside me, and even though I was in a chair he made me lean against him like I was sitting on the arm of his chair. I don’t know who else was there, but I recognised them all, you know? And it felt like, there was this weight on my chest, and it was so hard to breathe I couldn’t even speak.” His breaths became shallower at just the memory and Peter sat up, turning to watch Rowan as he spoke, thumb grazing Rowan’s hand soothingly. “Um, and I-I couldn’t move, and breathing was so hard, and these people were all talking about me, and they wanted to send me somewhere – I don’t-I don’t remember where, but it just…I was so afraid that all of a sudden I couldn’t breathe anymore, and I kept trying to get them to help, or endear to William, but they all just laughed at me and ignored me!” Rowan gasped as he finished and moved his hands to his chest to feel his lungs wheeze beneath them.

“I’m so sorry, Row,” Peter said gently, cupping his cheek and stroking the skin with his thumb.

“It-I don’t understand why I was so scared!” Rowan whimpered, tears spilling over his lashes and dripping down his temples. “It wasn’t even that bad!”

“You were placed in a situation in which you were powerless,” Peter sighed, inching closer. “That’s the most terrifying thing in the world, being powerless. And being unable to breathe, as well, no wonder you were affected by that.” Rowan nodded weakly as Peter’s hand stroked his skin and sniffed.

“Thanks, Peter,” He whispered, and Peter smiled in reply. “I feel…I feel bad when I think of William. I don’t know if I believe that he’s just, dead. There wasn’t any fanfare…it doesn’t feel real.”

“Cordelia would tell us if he was alive. You can’t let him steal any more of your life than he has already.” Peter said firmly, grabbing Rowan’s shoulder. “The bastard got what he deserved. And he isn’t allowed to ruin you anymore, all right?” Rowan nodded obediently and Peter smiled. “Good, are you feeling any better?” Rowan nodded again and swallowed the lump of tears in his throat.

“Yeah, thank you,” He murmured, and Peter squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. Rowan froze as Peter leaned closer to him, face looming inches away from his. Rowan slammed his eyes shut in anticipation and waited for whatever Peter was going to do, heart pounding out of his chest as he felt Peter’s breath rolling over his cheeks.

What is he doing? Is he going to kiss me?

Rowan paused as he felt Peter’s lips on his skin and waited, the kiss wasn’t where he was expecting it, and he was almost relieved under his disappointment. But of course Peter would kiss his forehead, it was such a caring action. Something a parent would do to soothe a child.

He was disappointed when the lips left his brow and cautiously opened his eyes, seeing Peter lean back and smile at him softly.

“You’ll be all right,” He said encouragingly. “If I can’t be there, Olivia will be, but I won’t make any efforts to leave you alone.” Rowan nodded as he lay down again, hand lingering on Rowan. To stop him from taking away the contact Rowan lifted his arms and wrapped them awkwardly around the one on his chest.

“Do you mind if I just…hold this?” He asked, glancing over.

“Of course not,” Peter replied, finally allowing his eyes to drift closed again. “Do whatever you’d like, I’m here now,”

Rowan flushed red hot as Peter settled in to sleep with his arm clutched in Rowan’s, fingers absentmindedly clutching passively at his skin in a weary attempt to soothe him. It was working.

[purplesurveys]

1195

survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct

—:: Who ::—

... was the last person you saw face to face? I passed by my brother last night when I had to go to the kitchen to fill up my tumbler.

... was the last person you texted or messaged online? Angela; I was just asking her for the difference among A4/A5/A6 since I’m now planning to buy a binder and sleeves for my rapidly increasing collection of photocards and postcards. It really frustrates me that A4 is the biggest one and A6 the smallest :((((

... was the last person who asked you for a favour? Kata, my manager. She filed a half-day leave last Friday to get herself and her family vaccinated in her town, so she had sent me over a very long to-do list of deliverables that she asked me to fulfill while she was out. Eventually she ended up filing a whole-day leave since she felt feverish after being under the sun all day, and also possibly from side effects of the vaccine, so I ended up carrying the entire workload for the day. I like Kata and she’s a very easy person and superior to work with, so I honestly couldn’t complain about it.

... was the last person you lent something to? Ooh, I don’t remember. I don’t really lend people things.

... was the last person who told you a secret/confided in you? Andi was just sharing to me their worries about taking the LAE (scheduled for today) and how they’ll be okay if they don’t pass.

... is the tallest person you know? Jo is like 5′7″ and we all look like beans when standing next to her. One of my uncles is also very tall; around 5′10″ or 5′11″ if I’m not mistaken.

... the shortest person you know? I think Aya? That’s just a smart guess, though; I haven’t seen most of my friends in more than a year.

... your oldest (in years) friend? Mik is turning 28 this year. Sometimes I forget just how much older he is than me since we vibe really well together during the rare times we did get to hang out. I’m still bummed we never got that smoke break we wanted to have.

... is the oldest (in length of time) friend? Angela.

... is your youngest friend? Hannah was born in 2000. Peter was born in 2001 but we aren’t that close yet.

... is your newest friend? I haven’t made any new friends recently. Stan Twitter is lonelier than I thought it would be; everyone is already friends with everyone so it’s hard to break that space. Not to mention everyone is also grossly younger than I am – I keep seeing profiles with ‘2004′ on their bio :/ I should start making an effort to look for older ARMYs lol, I definitely feel like I’d have more fun that way.

... is your closest relative? My eldest cousin on my mom’s side, my Kuya.

... was your favourite teacher? My music teacher from high school. I neeeeeever liked music as a subject and it was never a priority of mine, but she always kept our classes something for me to look forward with her advice and the way she was always able to make lessons interesting.

... was your least favourite teacher? Those who made it clear they didn’t like me, even though I didn’t do anything to deserve such hostility.

... did you spend the most time with when growing up? My siblings and cousins since we all lived together at one point.

... knows you the best? My two best friends.

... always beats you in games or sports? Andi would probably be able to beat me in any game. They just let me win because they know I can be a sore loser.

... who is the most creative of the people you know? My family is pretty artistic and I have a lot of talented relatives - my sister and my cousin Maggie paint and draw; my mom can make any kind of craft she wants, with her hnds; and one of my grand-aunts regularly does paintings. I think all of them are amazingly creative in their own way.

... is the funniest person you know? Probably Andi. Hans makes me crack up too.

... is the most organised that you know? My mom.

... that you know has travelled the most? My dad. Both our fridge doors are filled from top to bottom with magnets from places he’s travelled in due to his line of work. He’s toned down quite a bit in the last few years and has taken to staying within Asia, but back then his traveling history was super expansive – Germany, Jamaica, Italy, Belize, Aruba, Italy, France, Monaco, Denmark, Norway, the UK, US, Estonia, Portugal, etc.

... has always been there for you? Angela never left my side.

... has given you the most personal gift? I can’t possibly pick, my friends are pretty good at giving me gifts...like Andi getting me a Petals For Armor CD and a Punk shirt that hasn’t been produced in a while, and Angela giving me a personalized Friends mug because she knows I like my coffee and she knows I like Friends.

... has an annoying laugh? I don’t think anyone I know has an annoying laugh.

... never forgets a birthday? That would be me.

... do you live with? My parents, my two siblings, and our two dogs.

...,do you have the most in common with? I’m not so sure about this one, actually. I share bits of my personality with a lot of people - like me and Jo liking BTS, me and Andi liking wrestling, Blanch and I having similar personalities, me and Laurice being super meticulous when it comes to our work, etc. - but I haven’t met anyone who’s virtually a duplicate of mine when it comes to my traits and interests.

...is the sportiest person you know? I’m also not sure. Most people I know are into watching a bunch of sports, but none of them actually play.

...was your last missed call? It was an unknown number that I kept ignoring because THEY WOULDN’T TEXT WHO THEY WERE. If you have enough load credits to call me multiple times, then surely you can text me and introduce yourself first, and maybe then I can pick up the phone.

...did you last open your door for? My sister knocked last Friday because someone wanted to talk to me via landline. It was weird since no one calls via the phone anymore, but I have a gut feeling it was that ^ same person who had been trying to call me through my phone but never texted me. Eventually I learned it was one of the bloggers I’m talking to for work who just wanted to ask a few questions about our ongoing engagement.

... has your heart? Kim Taehyung. Expect the same answer for this type of question moving forward.

... has your respect? I gotta hand it to Tina for consistently doing well in her studies and excelling in every subject while doing photo and video editing for two orgs, working on her thesis, and being a board member in our mutual org, all while living alone. She does so well I wish I can tell her to give herself the occasional break to avoid burnout.

...do you share a special song with? I don’t think I have that with anyone.

...do you miss right now? Literally allllllll my friends.

...last made you angry? It’s been a while since I’ve directed my anger towards another person. When I get pissed off these days it’s usually over a situation that goes awry or out of my control.

...did you last buy a gift for? So this was not technically meant to be a gift, but what happened was I accidentally secured two orders of the same poster set, which was a part of this new BTS photobook coming out later this month, from two different shops. One of the shops merely posted an ‘interest check’ for the poster set so I signed up for it thinking it was harmless, but when they got back to me they already attached an invoice :/ I ended up having to pay for it just so things won’t get complicated between myself and the shop anymore; and I told Angela she can just keep the extra set I bought and that she can consider it a gift.

...did you celebrate your last birthday with? My family and technically my workmates since I didn’t file a leave that day. I also had food delivered to their house so I guess that can count as my ‘celebration’ with them.

...have you gone to a concert with? I went with Angela for my first Paramore show.

...can make you laugh? Anyone can tbh. It’s not very hard to make me laugh.

...has taught you how to do something? Nina taught me how to embroider and do basic needle/thread skills back when I was still getting into the hobby.

...has lost something of yours? I am almost certain my ex never kept the handwritten letters I used to write her. She never seemed to remember or bring up the things I wrote.

...has broke your heart? Gabie but I’m over it.

...has stood you up? Hasn’t happened to me before.

:: What ::

Is your favourite colour? Pastel pink.

Can you do that most your friends can’t? Type fast, apparently.

Is your birthday? April 21.

Colour eyes do you have? Dark brown/black.

Form of transport do you take to work/school? I work from home. But under normal circumstances I would drive my car.

Music do you like to listen to in the car? I connect my Spotify to the car’s Bluetooth and listen to whatever artist or playlist I’m into at the moment. The music I put on could also depend on my current mood for the day.

Languages can you speak? Filipino and English. I’ve also been able to pick up looooots of Korean phrases and expressions because of the amount of content I watch. I’m nowhere near fluent, of course, but I’m increasingly able to pick up what people say based off a few Korean words I’ll hear in a sentence.

Was the last thing you drank? Continued from idk. I finished off my glass of water from dinner.

Was the last thing you ate? My mom made pasta.

Time did you wake up this morning? Depends on how late I slept the night before and how tired I was, but it usually ranges between 5:45–7:30 AM.

Colour are your bedroom walls? They’re white.

Drink do you usually order when eating out? I never order drinks unless I’m at La Creperie, in which case I always get their San Gines hot chocolate; for everywhere else that isn’t a bar, I just get water.

Food can you cook well? ...I can’t cook.

Animals have you had for a pet? Dogs, rabbit, lovebirds, goldfish, and technically a cat but she was mostly Nina’s.

Are your initials? RC.

Kind of activities do you like to do on the weekends? I’m still kind of stuck at home during the weekends :/ so I can’t do much, but I’m not complaining since I actually prefer staying in these days. Anyway, most recently I’ve taken to catching up on BTS content I’ve missed over the last 8 years, so I like watching shows they’ve done like Bon Voyage, Run BTS, etc.

Movie do you know line by line? Two for the Road, TITANIC, and probably most of White Chicks.

Band(s) have you seen in concert? Paramore, One Direction, a bunch of local bands.

Do you buy/get to treat yourself? It’s usually food - I like giving myself a feast every Friday night - but I’m putting that in the backseat for now as I’ve realigned my money to be spent on BTS merch. My big purchases are saved for the albums for now, but every now and then I’ll see a postcard or photocard I like and buy them. Once I complete the albums I’ll be moving on to the concert DVDs, then the special packages, then probably BT21 plushies. Needless to say I have a longggggg way to go haha.

Colours your phone cover? I have a clear case.

Part of the world would you love to visit? Another continent would be nice.

Question do you dislike being asked? Even though I know people mean well, I don’t like being asked “How are you?” but tbh it’s more of a me thing because I just never really know what to say.

Subject were you good at in school? History.

Careers do your parents have? They both work in the hospitality industry.

Brand of clothing do you buy most often? For clothes clothes I’m not really loyal to a particular brand; I buy from different brands and shops all the time. But for shoes, I like sticking to Nikes.

Chocolate bar is your favourite? Not a big fan of chocolate bars. I love Reese’s Cups, though.

TV show have you watched every series of? Friends, Perfect Strangers, Breaking Bad.

Radio station do you listen to the most? It’s a little hard to tell at this point considering I haven’t driven regularly in over a year. But back when I used to do it, I usually flipped among 93.1, 99.5, and 87.5.

Podcasts are you subscribed to? I’m not the biggest fan of podcasts. Find them a tad bit boring.

Is your favourite dessert? Macarons or cheesecake.

Can’t you do that most around you seem to? Ride a bike.

Are 5 qualities you value in a friend? Loyalty, thoughtfulness, honest, sensitive to my needs and those of others, and intelligent.

Are 5 qualities you value in a partner? ^ Pretty much the same thing.

Size pizza do you usually order? Family size usually.

Cuisine do you like to order or cook? I’ve been getting Japanese so many times recently. I rarely go outside sushi.

Colour(s) dominate your wardrobe? Black and white, and colors that were in at one point like mustard yellow and pastel pink.

Toothpaste brand do you use? Colgate.

Sounds can you hear right now? My insanely loud aircon.

Is the weather like today? Like hell. I believe we’re reaching a heat index of over 50ºC every day now, so...that’s fun. It gets absolutely difficult to work in the afternoon when the temperature is at its most brutal, and its times like this I wish I got to work in the office so that there’s aircon and I could at least work comfortably :/

Are your plans for tomorrow? Just work and have tons of meetings, the usual.

:: Where ::

Do you keep your phone when not using it? I keep my phone near me even when I’m not using it since I could always get an important notification.

Were you born? Manila.

Do you go to unwind? Most days it would be the rooftop, but under normal circumstances I like staying at a coffee shop somewhere to escape life and my responsibilities for a short while.

Is your best friend right now? I believe they’re both at home since they have no reason to be out anyway.

Can you go nearby to have a good time? Personally, I would just go to the Starbucks near our village lol. If I’m feeling a bit more adventurous I’d head to Katip, which is prrrretty close by but not quite.

Is the nearest restaurant? We have a McDonald’s literally right beside the village. Then besides that is a Shakey’s, and right across that is a Burger King, then the aforementioned neaby Starbucks. Just makes me realize how urbanized my town has gotten in the last few years.

Is the nearest beach? If I had to guess, the nearest beaches would be in Batangas which is 2-3 hours away, but it really depends on how fast you can drive lol. I’m not too good with long car rides so in both times I’ve driven there I had always taken 4 hours.

Did you meet your closest friend? I met Angela in grade school, and I met Andi at a local rally in my university.

Did you go for your last vacation? Tagaytay, though it was a staycation more than anything else.

Is the nearest mall or superstore? It’s like a 3-minute drive away from the village.

Did you last get an injury? I have loadsssssss of new scratches and gashes all around my wrists from playing with Cooper.

Is the most extravagant place you’ve stayed at? It’s a toss-up between Aids’ or Gian’s house. Gian would probably win since I never actually got to go inside Aids’ place, and his was the first house I’ve been to that was able to literally take my breath away. OH and Shaun’s house was pretty fucking swanky as well.

Do most the local kids play? I would have no idea since I’m neither a kid nor a parent.

Have you been with your family? This is a very vague question lol...what do you mean where have we been? We’ve been to different towns around the country and several countries together, if that’s what you’ve been asking.

Did you spend Christmas last year? We visited a couple of relatives, and we also spent it at home.

Did your parents grow up? My mom grew up within Metro Manila; my dad in a city a little outside of it.

Did you buy the shoes you’re wearing? I’m barefoot at the moment and always am at home.

Would you like to go right now if you could? If life had still been normal I would probably be having after-work drinks at a bar near the office.

Do you miss the most from your childhood? I’m not sure how to answer this with where.

Is the best restaurant you know? I’m still searching for it.

Will you never go again as it was so bad? It’s not that it was bad, but I’d probably never dine at 8Cuts again because their burgers are not worth the hype and are very overpriced for their size.

:: When ::

...was your last vacation? My family’s last legit vacation was in August 2019; but we did have a quick escape to Tagaytay in January of this year.

...did you graduate? I officially ‘graduated’ from college in August, if you could even call it that.

...did you decide what career you wanted? Somewhere between my 2nd and 3rd year of college. That was when I decided I hated journalism and preferred PR, but since PR is under journalism’s umbrella there was no need for me to shift courses.

...did you have your first kiss? Continued. Like WHEN when or how old was I when? In any case, it was in January 2015 and I ws 16.

...did you learn how to swim? Idk, pretty early on. My parents liked taking us to water parks when we were younger, so we had a lot of exposure. I’m not sure if there was ever a time where something just clicked and I learned how to swim; I believe it had just come naturally.

...did you have your first relationship? By the end of 2014.

...did you meet your best friend? I met both of them in school, but at different points.

...do you feel the most at peace? Probably when I’m able to stay at the rooftop all alone.

...do you usually fall asleep? I’ve readjusted my body clock now (I used to want to be in bed by 9 or 10 PM, lmao) and I stay up until anywhere between 12-2 AM on weekdays.

...do you usually wake up? Ranges between 6-7:30 AM.

...did you last watch a movie? September.

...did you last go to a party? Around Februaryish, 2020.

...did you last cry? I can’t really recall. The last moment I can remember was crying over Life Goes On sometime last month, when I heard it for the first time. I’m just not sure if that’s accurate or when exactly in April that happened.

...did you laugh really hard? I always have a good laugh at least once a day.

...did you buy something pricey last? Idk what you would count as pricey but I bought the new BTS photobook set when it dropped back in April. Cost me around ₱3750. I wasn’t able to buy from the first press (it sold out in like 7 minutes lol) which included an exclusive poster set, so I had to look for a local shop that was already offering the poster set separately, and ended up shelling out another ₱2200 for it...which means all in all I spent around ₱5950 for it or roughly $125.

...did you have an argument last? Earlier this evening but I don’t want to get into it as it made me cry from sadness and frustration for the first time in months.

...did you last have a sick day? May last year.

...did you last recieve a hug? I have no idea. February, I think? when I hung out with my friends.

...when is your best friend’s birthday? July 22 or September 15, depends on which best friend.

...did you learn how to drive? I started getting lessons when I was 17, but I didn’t start feeling comfortable with it until I turned 18.

...did you last receive a surprise? Around a couple of weeks ago when my dad came home with Jollibee for us.

:: How ::

Many pets do you have? Two.

Many houses have you lived in? Three that I can remember, but I know my parents moved around a bit when I was a newborn.

Often do you shower? Every morning before my shift. I hate feeling sweaty and icky when I report for work.

Well can you cook? I can’t at all.

Many close friends do you have? I have two people I count as my absolute best friends, but I have a handful of close friends as well.

Many Brothers or sisters do you have? One of each.

Often do you go swimming? I don’t swim much at all, really...I haven’t done it since 2019, so that should say enough. As relaxing as it is, I feel like the clean-up afterwards can be such a challenge lol. Like if you swim in a pool you have to rigorously wash the chlorine off of you; and if you swim in the sea you have to also be thorough about making sure you’ve removed all the sand from your body.

Many times have you texted today? I don’t think I texted today but I did spend my whole day on chat platforms.

Do you like your toast (colour, topping)? I don’t have super particular preferences; I just like mine on the burnt side.

Do you like your tea and/or coffee? My coffee has to be sweet for me to enjoy it. I can take black coffee/Americano; I’ll just wince a lot with every sip. No tea for me thanks.

Do you like to celebrate your birthdays? With a lot of food.

Are you feeling today? A little frustrated because of an argument incident this evening. But I’m shaking it off and just focusing on the release of Butter tomorrow. My first BTS comeback!!!

Serious are you about your career goals? Very.

Many rooms are in your house? In total, 9.

Many bedrooms in your house? 4.

Did you do in your school exams? I was never consistent. I slacked off a looooooot in grade school; couldn’t give less of a shit about my classes then. I got a bit more hardworking in high school, but I still was a bit lax and I allowed myself to not put a lot of effort in subjects I didn’t care a lot for and that I know I would never have to use in real life, like chemistry or accounting, so there were exams I really excelled in and others that I would fail. It was only in college I started taking my studies incredibly seriously and I believe that showed in the grades I eventually got.

Close do you live to your parents? They’re like, five steps away.

Close do you live to your siblings? My sister’s literally in the room next to mine.

Sensitive to criticism are you? I know it’s something that can never be avoided, so I’m always open to hearing them, especially if it’s meant to help me. It doesn’t mean I enjoy it as it is being given.

Motivated to make changes are you? Depends on my mood and mindset. 

Creative are you (1-10): -0.5.

Hard working are you (1-10): Probably a 22 if I really put my head into a task.

Sporty are you (1-10): I dunno, maybe a 6? I do like playing table tennis, but I’m pretty meh at any other sport.

Musical are you (1-10): 0.

Do you prefer your eggs? Runny yolk; scrambled; or a really packed omelette.

Often do you go out to eat? Before the pandemic, I liked eating out 2-3 times a week.

Would your best friend describe you? Not sure, I never tried asking them this. I hope it’s all nice things, though.

Can someone cheer you up if you’re sad? Send me photos of V. Hahahaha

Often do you meet up with your friends? ...What do you think? D:

Important is religion to you? It is not a part of my life whatsoever.

Old were you when you first stayed overnight from home? 15 or 16, I can’t really remember.

Old were you when you got your first pet? I was maybe 6.

Tech savvy are you? I know enough to survive my own, but I obviously can’t hack into other computers or things like that.

Do you show you appreciate those you care for? Buying them food.

Often do you cut your hair? I only take a trip to the salon once a year.

Often do you paint your nails? Never.

Many countries have you visited? Six.

Boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Just one.

:: Why ::

... did you choose your username? Because it was straightforward.

... did you take this survey? I like surveys made in categories, and this seemed interesting and varied enough.

... did you choose the career you did? I found that I enjoyed it MILES more than journalism.

...did you last leave the house? I had to go to a local LBC for a work errand.

...did you last give up on something? She wasn’t worth the effort anymore. She hadn’t been for a while, but it took me forever to realize.

...did you search the last thing you searched? I wanted to sing along to the song but it was in Japanese, so I had to look up its lyrics.

...would you give up on someone completely? Oof, I guess you can refer to one of the previous questions. ^

:: If...::

You could live in any country which would you choose? Canada.

You could choose any animal as a pet which one? I’m perfectly content with dogs.

You could be famous for something what would you like? Being known for a funny tweet would probably be enough lol. I have no desire to be famous.

You are sad, how do you combat it? I don’t really get sad anymore these days, so I can’t super remember the go-to tactics I depend on...I guess I like listening to sad songs and allowing myself to wallow in the sadness, because I know I have to accept and process my feelings first before I can be able to calm down.  

You can drive when did you learn? I learned shortly before I started college, when I was 18, because no one was going to be able to take me to university when the school year started.

You could have any job what would it be? Idk, I like the one I have now.

You could go anywhere for a vacation where would you go? Somewhere with a completely different feel and atmosphere, like Norway, Sweden, Finland...that part of Europe, basically.

You could eat anything right now what would it be? Samgak gimbap :/

You wrote a book what genre/topic would it be? It would be a book of essays or maybe a memoir.

You had a theme song what would it be? Idk I don’t really think about this.

You could meet any band/singer in person which one? Billie Eilish seems awesome and easy and fun to talk to.

You could act in any movie which would it be? No thanks.

You get married what venue would you like? Hotel.

If you have kids do you have names picked out? I have one name picked out for a girl but that’s it.

Could describe your dream home what would it be like? Brutalist and minimalist, with large windows, cove lights, and a lot of white space.

You could go back in time what would you change? Break up with Gab earlier.

Could use 3 words to describe your childhood which ones? Could’ve been better.

Could get the answer to any question which question would you choose? When I would die and how, just so I can have peace of mind.

You could have an endless supply of something what would it be? Money, because of course.

Meet anyone who no longer lives who’d you choose? My great-grandfather, mom’s side.

:: Can ::

... you ride a bike? No, never learned.

... you ski? I’ve never even seen snow, so no.

... you bake a cake? I can try but it will probably be very clumsily made as I don’t bake.

... you sing well? I wouldn’t say that. I like singing when I’m alone, but it doesn’t mean I’m any good.

... you do your own taxes? I’ve never tried haha so I guess not.

... you remain calm in a crisis? Depends on how serious it is.

... you do first aid? Let’s just say I wouldn’t volunteer if it comes down to it because I feel like I’d commit one fatal mistake that would make the situation graver. 

... remember your best friend’s family members’ names? Both of their families, yes.

... you fire a gun? I’ve never tried so I doubt it.

... your parents drive? Yep.

...your best friend dance well? They’re not ‘dancers’ per se but sure, they can bust out a move or two.

...you make people laugh easily? Not everyone, but sure.

...stand up for yourself? That’s what I’m trying to learn these days.

...you do a martial art? No.

:: Would ::

You like to learn a new language? That’s always a welcome opportunity.

Save the life of a stray animal? Absolutely.

Know what to do if there was a hurricane? We have several ones come in the country every year so yeah, I can definitely say we’ve long been well-prepared for them.

Try a new cuisine? I do this as often as I can.

Risk your life for anyone? Yes.

You like to get back in touch with someone? No, I’m good now.

You drive in the middle of the night to get a stuck friend? Ina heartbeat.

You Know how to perform CPR? In relation to the first aid question, I wouldn’t volunteer myself in case I make a wrong move.

You likely win in a game of chess? I don’t even know how it works, so no.

You stop talking for a day for $100? Easily.

[web-of-fics]

Worlds Away

Requested by @spaghetittiesbcimgay : hey! could i get something with our boy peter with a really smart reader?? who’s an intern at nasa or smth? and is obsessed with her instruments (guitar, bass, etc) and also space? (can you tell i’m projecting?) idk if this would be wayy to specific (if it is, totally leave out the last bit!! :) ) and i have no idea where to go from there but ive been dying for some peter x smart!reader sooo.. thank u so much in advance xx

Summary: You and Peter Parker are two of the smartest kids at Midtown High. So why are you both completely clueless at the fact you both have massive crushes on each other? 

Words: 1391

✎_____________________________________________________________________

Obviously Midtown was full of students with extraordinary smarts and subsequent extraordinary internships because of it. Naturally, Peter had gotten a lot of attention when word spread that he’d swung (no pun intended) an internship with Tony STARK. The superhero hype around the school was real even months later. And after news broke about aliens visiting earth and all that a couple years ago, every hyper intelligent teenager’s hopes were directed on working with space tech: protection or exploration, it didn’t matter. But that was mainly Tony’s domain now and the world knew it, so Midtown’s students scrambled to find prestigious positions in other areas. 

When you got accepted to intern as a research assistant for NASA, you immediately shared the news with a few close friends. And they were, of course, absolutely stoked for you. They were also huge blabbermouths so by the time everyone returned to school that Monday, the entire grade knew. Jealousy emitted from them like the energy of an exploding star. But unlike a star, the only visible evidence were the side-eye glares and slight shaking of the heads in disbelief. If you could read minds, they would be a mix of chatter saying: ‘why does SHE get to work for NASA?’ ‘I’m twice as smart as her—that should be my job’ ‘I bet she paid her way in—they’re not even accepting interns in the middle of the school year’ ‘she’s two years younger than me! I need that internship more than she does!’ Etcetera.

But not everyone was so green. Peter Parker, for example, was over the moon (still no pun intended) when you told him. He was also your number one suspect for blabbing. At least with him and his big mouth, you knew it was from a place of pride rather than an attempt to spread gossip. As if anyone went to Peter Parker for gossip. Maybe that was part of the reason you found him so appealing. 

“If they send you to space will you let me know?” He said earnestly. You just laughed.

“I’m doing research, not training to be an astronaut. I don’t have the physical endurance!”

“But you’re smart enough to engineer a spaceship.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not on my own.”

“Still!”

“They’re not sending me to space and I’m not engineering a spaceship for other people to go to space,” you laughed.

“Well what are they not paying you for then?” he pressed.

“I’m joining the student research team that assesses alien remnants from the battle of New York to help find ways to improve our own space technology. NASA’s actually working closely with Mr. Stark on a lot of it--I’m sure he’d tell you more...”

You stopped talking at the awestruck expression on Peter’s face. He leaned forward.

“No way,” he gushed. “Mr. Stark didn’t tell me any of that. Wow, you sounded really smart just then.” He paused, thinking. “This is gonna be awesome for you, y/n!” he beamed, sounding just as enthused as you felt. 

“I know!”

“When do you start?”

“Not for a few weeks.”

“Good,” Peter said. 

You raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, I--I’m going to miss being able to hang out with you and stuff when you’re off doing space stuff.”

“Well, I won’t actually be in space at any point, so we should be good,” you smiled. 

“Well, you’re definitely smart enough to go to space, so when you do eventually end up on a spaceship--” Peter held up a finger to cut off your objections before you could open your mouth. “--You could entertain your fellow astronauts with some tunes.” Peter mimed an air guitar. 

“Shut up,” you laughed, swatting at his arm. “I think a theremin would be a better soundtrack for outer space anyway. Acoustic guitars have college-student-on-the-quad vibes.” 

“Not when you play.”

“Okay Peter,” you rolled your eyes, flattered but embarrassed by his persistence. “I’ll show up on the first day of my internship with a guitar slung on my back and ask if they’d prefer the sounds of Brian May or John Mayer.” 

“Perfect,” Peter said without a hint of sarcasm behind his smile. You blushed.

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After school that day, Peter came by your house as usual so you could work on homework together. You asked him once why he preferred to work at your place—not that you minded whatsoever, but you became curious after picking up on the pattern—and he said because your place was more “stimulating” than his. Stimulating! You had laughed so hard that his confusion had circled around until he worried he’d said something offensive.

“Stimulating? Really?” you had said after composing yourself.

“Well, yeah,” he’d replied. “You have all these cool instruments and your whole room looks like space.”

As you both entered it now, you bypassed the light switch and plugged in the strand of white Christmas lights that encircled the ceiling. Instantly the room was bathed in a soothing glow. You weren’t allowed to paint your walls black ("But it would look so much more like space, mom!”) so you’d ordered four giant tapestries with different galaxies on them and hung one on each wall. A sun-shaped lamp rested on your nightstand. It was one of those sunrise lamps that woke you up by gradually getting brighter in the morning to mimic the elusive wintertime sunrise. Your precious string instruments—an acoustic guitar (Gary) and electric bass (Lily)—stood opposite your bed. You couldn’t think of a better definition of a safe space. 

And now school felt like worlds away. Minus the fact Peter was here with you  to do homework.

Peter assumed his usual position in the bean bag chair furthest from the door. You collapsed into yours, closest to your instruments. A long ottoman served as a makeshift desk for you both to dump your school materials.

But today you both melted into the cushions without moving to open your backpacks, abandoned at your sides.

Peter--usually a ball of energy that would lead you to believe he was a puppy in a former life--closed his eyes and laid his head back. It had been an especially long week. 

Without giving it a second thought, you leaned sideways and removed Gary from its stand. Humming a little, your fingers grazed the guitar strings until the notes strung into the beginning of one of your favorite songs. 

After you finished you looked up and spotted Peter watching you. Of course you’d known he was there, but you’d half expected him to drift off before the first chorus. Your face burned.

His forehead creased. “Was that ‘Here Comes The Sun’?”

You lit up. “Yeah! You listen to The Beatles?”

Peter nodded, feeling confident. “John Legend is the best.”

You stifled a giggle. “Yep,” you said. You had an unreasonably strong urge to hug him. 

You hesitated, not sure if you wanted to stop playing or continue. 

“Can I hear another?” Peter said after a moment, making the decision for you. 

“Sure,” you said, suddenly feeling shy. “What do you want to hear?”

“Anything.”

“Okay,” you steadied your breathing. Deciding to stick with the space theme, you strummed the beginning chords to Muse’s ‘Starlight’ and sang along quietly, losing yourself to your music and completely missing the infatuated grin that found its way onto Peter’s face as he got lost in thought: 

Not only was he hanging out in the coolest bedroom he’d ever seen, he got to spend it with the coolest and smartest person he knew. He wanted to spend as many hours with you as he could, even though you would probably have a lot less free time once you started the internship. But until then, he would enjoy every moment he could. Like this one. 

And who knows, maybe one day space travel would be a regular thing and then you could both hang out on the moon together for real and get away from it all. Peter could listen to you play guitar and sing random songs all day. He might even tell you how he really felt about you once he built up enough courage.

But Peter realized those possibilities were still worlds away. And right now, his world was sitting across from him, humming like a windchime that told him he was home.

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