#peter stone fanfiction

[altsvu]

three way phone part 1

pairing: sonny carisi x peter stone x detective!fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

summary: a movie night with the boys is all fine and dandy until things get spicy.

cw: shameless flirting, a little smut

a/n: in honor of this fic officially sitting in my drafts for THREE years (1/3/2021), i’m gonna post it today :) i’m thinking of making this a two part thing, with part two being raunchy asf. this is my first time writing a 3some so enjoy lovelies! 😭🫶🏽

law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

For a while you had been toying with Peter and Sonny because they both had feelings for you, even thought lately you had been more close with Peter. Two weeks ago, Sonny took you out to his favorite restaurant, and last week, Peter took you to a baseball game. You, Sonny and Peter hung out a lot after work if one of them weren’t spending time with you, and you were hoping for something more with one, or both of them.

“Y/N.” You turned and saw Peter coming over to you. You were the only detective in the precinct, Sonny had left to get ready for movie night. On the other hand you were chilling in the break room getting some paperwork done. That was something you did when you didn’t feel like sitting at your desk.

“Oh hey Peter.” You smiled.

“Hey there beautiful.” He said. He kissed your cheek before he sat down.

“You always find a way to flirt with me.”

“Ever since that baseball game, I’ve had even more feelings for you.”

His hand found a way to your thigh.

“Aww, Peter. Really?”

“Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I was hoping...”

There was a bit of silence between the two of you.

“That maybe we can spend more time together. Alone.”

“I- How did you know?”

You scooted closer to Peter.

“It’s written all over you.” You whispered.

You and Peter both knew the energy shifted after that. He moved closer and kissed you. You kissed him back and it was one of the best things you ever experienced. His hands went to your ass, gripping it so he could transport you from your chair to his lap. A squeal escaped your lips.

“Damn Peter.”

“Damn, is absolutely correct. What’s on for tonight?”

“I was thinking Gothika or the Invisible Guardian, since you boys don’t want to watch romance movies.”

“I think we know how that would play out. But I would kill for some Naked.”

“Ooh, Naked sounds good. I’ll tell Sonny when he gets there.”

Peter smiled and looked at you.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just look beautiful sitting on my lap.”

You kissed him then slid the paperwork closer to you so you could finish it. You shifted in his lap so that both of your legs were facing the table and you let him grip you by your waist. Peter watched as you completed your DD5’s. At one point he pushed some of your hair back.

“Peter...” You smiled. “Very tempting of you.”

Your phone went off with a text from Sonny asking you if you were still on for sitting in on the civil court case he’s working with Pippa Cox for with him. You replied with an “Of course! I can’t wait!”

“You planning on being a lawyer?”

“I haven’t thought about it. I’m just really interested in the court system. Plus, if I ever decided to, I have one of many great former and current ADA’s I can go to.”

“Am I on that list?” Peter whispered.

“Top 3.” You whispered back, finishing the last component of the 5. “Okay. I’m done.”

“Good. I can’t wait to see what you wear later. “

“I’m sure you can’t.” You smirked, getting up from his lap. “Accompany me to Liv’s office and my desk?”

“Of course.” Peter got up and grabbed you by the waist as you were fixing up the papers.

“Peter!” You shrieked. He chuckled and pulled you closer to him, then kissing your lips. After your little make out session, you stopped by Liv’s office and placed your forms on her desk along with a small note, then went to your desk to grab your things.

“So... I’ll see you in about an hour or two?” You asked after getting outside.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

A grin formed on your face. “Bye for now, Peter.” You planted a kiss on his cheek and then went on your separate ways.

✯✯✯✯

You had just finished getting dressed and spritzing yourself with a body mist. You wore a pink silk spaghetti strap cropped v neck, a pair of pink and flower patterned tie up sleep shorts, a black silk long robe, and white fuzzy socks. Going to the kitchen to set up snacks, you heard the doorbell rang and when you went to check, it was Sonny.

“Sonny!” You squealed when he kissed your cheek and gave you a tight hug and lifted you off the floor a bit. You closed the door behind him when he put you down.

“You look beautiful for someone who’s hosting movie night.”

“You think I’m overdressed?”

“Of course not, doll.” Sonny stepped closer to you and his hand made its way under your robe. It slowly slipped off and there was a moment of silence between the two of you. Sonny’s hands then went to the sliver of bare skin. “What you’re wearing is just fine.”

“Good.” You whispered. You planted a kiss on his cheek and walked over to the kitchen to prepare the snacks.

You already had the wine out, two bottles of everyone’s favorite cabernet sauvignon to be more specific, and you wanted to prepare a small charcuterie board with several cheeses, meats, grapes, and dark chocolate. You enjoyed doing things like this, it gave you a sort of satisfaction. People always praised you for bringing the best snacks and things of the sort.

Sonny followed behind you and offered to help you set up and make a pretty display. While setting up, the doorbell rang and you went to get it.

“Y/N,” Peter started, looking at you with a smile on his face.

“Hi Peter!” You smiled back. He pulled you into a hug for a little while. “We’re in the kitchen.”

Now finally, the three of you were here and ready to get the party started. You spent some time with them in the kitchen playing around by tossing and playfully feeding each other pieces of cheese, grapes, and chocolate. You were having fun. You liked hanging out with Peter and Sonny, and they liked hanging out with you just the same.

After a little while doing that, the guys helped you finish your display in the living room with the last of snacks, and then it was time to settle down.

✯✯✯✯

“Are you boys getting bored?” You asked, taking another sip of wine.

After many glasses of wine and a fee snacks remaining, the three of you had finished the first movie, and was on the second movie you chose.

“Oh dear Y/N, very, very bored.” Peter joked. He draped an arm around you and looked at you passionately.

“Boohoo.” You mused. You turned to look at Sonny who was sitting beside you as well. “Sonny?”

Sonny smiled. “Never with you.”

“You’re so cute.” You smiled, planting a small kiss on his nose.

Peter’s hand trailed along the bare parts of your body. “I think… we can have a lot more fun on our own.”

You looked back at Peter, noticing the fierceness in his eyes. You let that same hand caress your cheek. Peter wanted to do his own thing, give you pleasure, and he wasn’t gonna let you go easily. He moved closer to you, his hands moving to your thigh.

However, you weren’t gonna give in. Not that easily. You sat there, letting Peter seduce you until you reached your breaking point. The softest moan escaped your lips. Sonny watched in amazement as Peter continued to seduce you. He turned your head to face him and he leaned in to kiss you. It was soft but also rough. You gave in and kissed him back, pulling him closer to you. You guided his hand to hold your waist. While kissing Peter you searched for Sonny’s hand to touch you as well. You could tell Sonny was hesitant, but when you felt the warmth of his body touch through the thin piece of silk that was the robe, you knew he wanted a piece of you too.

Sonny slipped a part of your robe off and kissed your bare shoulder, then went up to your neck and sucked on the soft skin. You had stopped kissing Peter at this point and he was leaving kisses on your chest. He slipped off the other side of your robe and as of now, the two men left you with bare shoulders.

“Boys. I think we should take this to the bedroom.” You whispered ever so shallowly.

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu @averyhotchner @ssaic-jareau @detective-giggles @blackbeautifulqueen @lapaquerette @itsjustmyfantasyroom

[poetsofmyheart]

my tears ricochet

chapter two. masterlist.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WARNINGS: death, nightmares

WORD COUNT: 2,912

NOTES: anyone wanna be added to a tag list? i’ve gotten a few requests so lmk :)

“what a shame she went mad, you made her like that.” - mad woman, taylor swift

now

the night peter walked me back to my apartment, i couldn’t get a single minute of sleep. my mind raced with thoughts about gwen and harry osborn.

the man who killed gwen was peter’s best friend.

what the fuck?

i couldn’t get it out of my head. the thought played in my mind like a broken vhs tape. stuck on a constant loop with no idea how to fix it. endless questions filled my brain. peters words flooding and repeating over and over.

“he was never caught.”

how does something like that happen? why did he do it? was he trying to get revenge? why gwen?

my mind raced with these questions all night. i ran through all possible answers until finally, at around five in the morning, my mind shut off. though, my peaceful slumber didn’t last long because i began to dream about gwen.

again.

i often dream about what happened the night at the tower. the details of that night have never fully been disclosed unfortunately. i only know part of what happened simply because peter had told me through tears after the incident, when he came in through my window.

although, it doesn’t matter because i only ever dream about the worst part of it all. the part where gwen falls to her death.

these dreams began a few days after her funeral. when the realization of her really being gone had settled.

i dream about her at the top of that tower, holding on to spider-man’s webs. i dream about her calling out for help, calling out to peter. i dream about what she must’ve been feeling moments before hitting the pavement. the fear that loomed over her body like a ghost.

right as gwen is about to let go of peter’s web, i jolt awake. i feel like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on me.

the time on my desk reads 1:25 pm.

yikes.

i’m not awake for long when the questions that kept me awake for majority of the night come soaring back. i jump up from my bed and go straight for my desk. powering on my computer, i go to the search engine and search harry osborn. i read the top result.

HARRY OSBORN

SON OF NORMAN OSBORN, CEO OF OSCORP INDUSTRIES

oscorp industries sticks out to me. i remember that’s where gwen’s internship was located at. that’s where she used to work. everyday after school, i’d drop her off at oscrop before driving myself to my piano lessons. i’d pick her up after as well and we’d drive home together.

i scroll a little further down and click on the oscorp website. a fuzzy photo of harry loads on to my screen. an i.d. photo perhaps. the photo feels eerie, unsafe. he looks like a normal person.

knowing this perfectly normal looking man was capable of something so horrendous strikes me as bizzare. looking at him makes my blood boil and my vision turn red.

for another hour, i’m left researching harry osborn and oscorp industries. i look for clues that might help me find out what he’s up to these days, where he might be.

as i’m scrolling, i hear a tapping sound come from my window. the familiarity of it sends a wave of electricity through me.

i quickly x out of the tab i’m in and walk over to my window. when i open my curtains, i see a familiar masked hero waving at me. i roll my eyes and lift open the latch. “what do you want? and how’d you know which window was mine?

“i promised i’d tell you everything.” peter says, jumping into my room and ignoring the second part of my question. he takes a look around my room, which is currently a mess.

clothes scatter my floor. bras, panties, sleep shirts, and all of the above. old piano sheet music and coffee cups litter every corner, and my bed is unmade, the sheets hanging off to the side. i kick some undergarments under my bed before he can see them.

his eyes land on my closet. my closet is wide open, the photos i hung on the door forever ago are on full display. he walks over to my photo wall and his eyes linger on a specific polaroid of me and gwen.

the photo was taken at prom. me and gwen are holding each other close, gwen pressing a chaste kiss on my cheek while i smile widely at the camera. the memory feels distant, but not forgotten.

peter chuckles softly to himself. “feels like a lifetime ago.” he murmurs. his gloved finger traces over gwen’s face, then over mine.

i’m relived i can’t see his face. i’d pain me to see the heartbreak and anguish that’s most likely written all over his expression, threatening to spill over.

a few seconds pass by in silence before i clear my throat. peter turns around fast, almost like he’s forgotten he was in my room. “sorry.” he pulls of his mask, a sheepish smile plastered on his face.

he glances around my room a little longer, admiring some of the band posters on my wall. he’s about to go over to my computer when i remember my researching from just moments earlier. i manage to beat him to it and shut it off before the tabs can reopen.

peter is like an unattended child. he runs around, grabbing and inspecting everything he sees like a kid in a candy shop. not a single care in the world.

i’m closing my computer when i notice he’s gone.

then i hear the piano.

“seriously, peter?” he’s sitting at my piano which is placed directly in front of my couch, where a tv would normal sit.

“you still play?” he presses a few random keys, creating a cacophony of noise. the sound reverberates throughout my apartment. “yeah.” my response holds a hint of annoyance.

peter is well aware of my love for piano. in high school, gwen would drag peter to some of my concerts. it would come up in our conversations often as well. he’d talk about his love for photography while i talked about my love for piano.

i cringe as he continues to hit random notes. he drags his fingers up and down the keyboard then repeatedly hits the same key over and over again, smirking as he does. “jesus, can you stop that?” i make him scoot over so i’d have space to sit on the bench.

he reaches for my sheet music. “hmm,” he rifles through the slightly crumpled sheets. “fantasie?” my eyes widen and i rip the papers out of his grasp. “don’t touch that!” i reorganize the papers and put them back on my stand. i’m worried he’ll recognize the song.

“geez, sorry.” he holds his hands up in surrender, a sign he might not have noticed. he stands up from his spot on the bench and sits on the couch.

“play me something.”

“no.”

“why not?”

“because.”

“because why?” he raises a brow.

“because i don’t want to.”

“what about your audition. don’t you think you should practice with an audience?” it takes him a second to realize what he’s just said. his cheeks redden.

it takes me a minute to fully grasp on to what he said. “were you… spying on me yesterday?” my eyes narrow at him suspiciously.

he runs a gloved hand through his hair, a nervous tick of his i’m very familiar with. “i may or many not have accidentally overheard.” he admits.

“creeper.”

i try to hide my smile by looking down at the keyboard. i play a few random notes. mine are subtle and soft unlike peter’s obnoxious ones. they echo beautifully.

we’re quiet for a moment as we listen.

“okay, how about this.” peter says, sitting up straight. i look up at him. “how about you play me a song and i’ll tell you everything you want to know about gwen and harry.”

“or,” i stop playing. “you tell me everything i want to know, and then maybe,” i grin as i drag out the last word. “maybe i’ll play you a song.”

peter groans.

“hey, there was no specification about a song!” peter laughs, but it simmers away just as quickly as it appeared, his face becoming serious when he remembers why he’s at my apartment in the first place. “i’m sorry.” he says, frowning.

my smile fades.

“i’m sorry for not telling you anything about what happened. i just-” he shakes his head. “with everything going on and what happened to gwen, i couldn’t risk losing you too.”

something that hangs loosely in my chest tightens.

“gwen died because she knew too much about me. i couldn’t get you killed too. you knowing i’m spider-man is enough to put you in danger.”

“so, you kept me in the dark.”

peter nods. “that night, i tried so hard to keep gwen away.” he let’s out a humorless laugh as he recalls the tragic event. “for gods sake, i even webbed her to a car.”

as peter continues talking, i realize i’ve begun moving my fingers to the rhythm of fantasie.

one thing i’ve started doing to cope with gwen’s loss was of course piano, but when i’m away from the piano and need something to ease my mind, i move my fingers to the rhythm of the song.

“what about harry osborn? why’d he kill gwen?” i’m barely able to get the words out due to my throat tightening. i can’t bare to meet his gaze, so i continue to play with my hands. if peter notices, he doesn’t mention it.

“harry was sick. he developed an illness, the very same illness that killed his father. it was hereditary. he became this sick monster, he almost didn’t look like himself. everyone on the case calls him ‘the green goblin.’ he believed spiderman’s blood could cure him. i refused to give him blood, and when he found out i was spider-man, he used gwen as a way to get revenge on me.”

my suspicions from last night had been correct. it was revenge on peter.

gwen was the one who had to suffer the consequences.

“he took her and dropped her and i didn’t reach her on time.” peter’s eyes glaze over.

the full weight of what really happened to gwen lands on me harshly. the tears i tried so hard to push back fall freely down my cheeks and soon enough, peter’s words become overshadowed by the sound of fantasie. my need to block out the truth causes my fingers move against the keys the way i’ve grown to love. i forget about peter’s presence and for just a few minutes, it’s just me.

and gwen.

once i’m finished, i keep my eyes trained on the keyboard. and then i remember peter.

“whoa,” is all he says.

“i’m sorry.” i try to laugh off my embarrassment. my voice sounds nasally from the crying. peter’s intense gaze makes it all the more harder to recover from my outburst. “it’s just a thing i do. this was gwen’s favorite song on the piano and i can’t help but move my fingers to the rhythm when i think about her.”

peter looks caught off guard, but not from my sudden playing, but from the sudden tears on my face. before he can comment on it i ask, “so what are you going to do?”

peter’s concerned eyes turn confused. “about what?”

“how are you going to find harry osborn?”

“i’ve been trying to find him for the past two years.”

“and you haven’t found him yet?”

“i don’t need your help, if that’s what you’re implying.” peter stands up from his position on the couch, all softness gone and starts making his way back to my room. i follow behind him and scoff.

“yes, you clearly do. it’s been two years. don’t think it’s about time you had some help?” peter ignores me and pulls on his mask. he climbs through my window, turns to me and says, “i’m not going to put you in danger the same way i did to gwen.”

then he’s gone.

—

a few days go by before i see peter again. except this time, i pay him a visit.

trying to get in contact with peter was a lot harder than it seemed. at some point in the last two years he’s changed his phone number, the one in my phone outdated.

i am also not in contact with any of my high school peers so there is no way for me to ask around for his number.

so i do what i do best.

i google him.

it doesn’t take me long to find peter because he’s the first result among the other one million peter parkers.

he’s a well accomplished photographer for the daily bugle. according to google, his most recent work consists of spider-man photographs.

shocker.

unfortunately, the daily bugle does not share insiders phone numbers which means i still have no way of contacting peter.

this left me with one option left.

i go to the daily bugle myself.

having been to the daily bugle myself before (for a high school field trip weirdly enough), i’m already well aware that visitors, aside from family, are not allowed into the building.

so i pretend to be peter’s wife.

before i reach the daily bugle, i make a quick stop at the deli near by. i order a sandwich, which i use as a prop. my excuse being that peter forgot his lunch.

“mrs. parker, wife of peter parker.” i say to the woman at the front desk. she eyes me suspiciously for a minute then nods. “third floor.” she says, and hands me a visitors badge.

i take the elevator and when the doors open, i meet eyes with the famous james jameson. he doesn’t say anything at first, peering down at my badge and narrowing his eyes. “mrs. parker?” he says, eventually.

“yes! is my husband peter around? he forgot his lunch.” i hold up the brown paper bag. hilariously, he stands there shocked. mouth wide open like a gaping fish.

“uh- yes. he’s just down the hall.”

“great.” he stops me before i can leave.

“i’m sorry-” he shakes his head with a laugh. “peter parker, right? he’s your husband?” he says this like it’s the most impossible thing in the world.

i nod.

before he can continue, i mumble out a thank you and walk down the hall as directed. when i reach the end, i’m met with a room full of cubicles, all the same grey, dull design.

i scan the room for a minute, and when i find peter’s eyes, his are already on me. his cubicle is tucked by the corner on the left side.

i wave and walk towards him, a hint of a smirk playing at my lips. when i reach him, he’s giving me a glare so deadly it makes hot liquid pour all over my body.

“what are you doing here?” he whispers, an edge to his voice. “you forgot your lunch.” i set the bag on his desk. his face contorts in confusion.

“also, we need to talk. it’s important.” before he can respond, i pull him up from his desk and drag him to the women’s bathroom. i lock the door behind us.

“jesus christ, y/n. someone’s gonna think i’m trying to get a quickie in on the job.”

“not if you shut up and let me talk.”

peter rolls his eyes. when he looks down at my badge, his eyes widen. “mrs. parker?” he sputters out, a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“it’s was the only way to get in.”

“and what was so important that you needed to get in?”

ever since peter filled me in on the night of gwen’s death, i decided to use my new knowledge on the subject to conduct my own investigation. i find out about electro and harry’s assistant, felicia hardy, who i believe would be a great help in our search.

“because i know about electro and felicia hardy.”

peter looks distraught at the mention of electro and felicia. it’s not long before his shock quickly dissipates into anger. “i thought i said i didn’t need your help.”

“but you do, peter!” i fling my arms around, my anger building up rapidly, cheeks burning. “gwen was my best friend! my confidant, and i’m not going to rest until i find the bastard that killed her. i’m going to do it with or without your help, so why don’t you do yourself a favor and accept that you need my help. it’s been two years for fucks sake.”

peter blinks.

he seems to really think about it for a second. his eyes looking me up and down, then scanning my face. finally he begrudgingly says, “fine.”

my eyes light up a smidge.

“but the second things start going south, you’re out. got it?”

“got it.”

“this stays between us. there can’t be any secrets between us or else it’ll all go to shit. promise me you won’t keep anything from me.”

i hold out my pinky. “i promise.”

except i’ve already broken that promise because i’ve failed to mention the threatening letters in my mailbox.

[arenjix]

Omg i just reread Dark Matter, and read through the newest chapter without realising it. (In the end I did realise but tbh I forgot most of the details since the last time reading it.) I started reading 25h ago (sleep etc incl), came to an end 5 min ago, was like 'wait a moment, didn't the last chapter end in the middle of the fight???', checked the stats and BAM!:

Updated:2024-01-05

AAAA

[noirohara]

❕fanfic commissions

TIRED OF YOUR RAREPAIRS NOT HAVING MORE THAN 3 FANFICS? 🫵 well then, you’re in luck! you can commission me to write any story you want !

you can commission here on my ko-fi !

and if you want to see some of my works, here is my ao3 !

if given enough details about the characters i’ll write anything you ask for but the fandoms i’m more active in are spiderverse, genshin impact, dr. stone and tokyorev !

thank you for taking your time to read this ! and i would appreciate it if y’all could share this post <33

[adgaea]

Pandemic

Bad Things Happen Bingo

Pandemic - ADGAEA - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

Peter's the only one worthy of saving the remainder of those who live on Earth after Thanos comes during the midst of a zombie pandemic.

TW: slight gore, character death(s), violence, injury, suicide

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my plot.

[wereboned]

have you ever read a fanfic so life changing only to realize it hasn’t been touched since 2012

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

hi!!! i re read ur peter/gwen sick fic this morning aaa i love them ☹️💞 ur writing is so good!!

do u think u could do something similar but where gwen is the one sick and peter takes care of her? thanks !! 🤘🤘

“Peter, the sooner you leave me alone, the less likely it is for you to catch whatever I’ve got and the more likely it’ll be for me to get this studying done,” Gwen sighed, wishing her voice wouldn’t whistle and rasp so painfully; it felt like she had spent most of the day gargling rocks. Setting her pencil down, she slid a heavy, aching arm out for the thermos on the other end of her desk, only for Peter to hastily snatch it up out of her reach.

“Whoa there. Listen, I know I’m one to talk and this thermos honestly smells amazing right now but you really don’t need coffee in your condition,” he pleaded.

“It’s warm, it feels good on my throat.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not gonna help you sleep! I don’t even know why you’re still up, honestly.” In return to her exasperated, obvious gesture at her textbook, he gave her an equally obvious eye roll. “You’re the teacher’s pet—every teacher’s pet. If you told them you’re sick, I’m sure they’d give you extensions to catch up once you’ve gotten some rest.”

“I’m close, okay? I’ve only got…” Gwen wavered, blinking at the page before her as she tried to crunch the numbers. Come to think of it, how long had she spent staring blearily at this one chapter? This one page? The past few hours were becoming muddled, muted by the dull pounding in her temples. “…I-I’m close,” she mumbled at last, giving up on any estimation. “You can whisk me up in your arms like any other damsel in distress as soon as I’m done.”

Taking a swig of her coffee for himself, likely knowing he would need a boost for what lay ahead, Peter then set it aside in favor of shuffling behind Gwen’s desk chair and sliding his hands over her shoulders. Against her better judgment she leaned into his strong, safe touch, struggling to suppress a shudder when he started kneading along the base of her neck and the top of her spine. She hadn’t realized how many knots of tension she had been holding there until now that he was trying to loosen them up.

“I brought some of Aunt May’s soup,” he murmured coaxingly, hunkering down to press a few slow, soft kisses into the crown of her mussed golden hair. “That’ll be nice and warm for you too but not if you keep it waiting for much longer. After that we can get you changed, get all cozy under the covers…You’d seriously rather be studying than snuggling right now?”

Pulling heavy eyelids back open, unsure of when she had closed them, she tried to muster another protest, only for a few rough, ragged coughs to escape instead. Once those first few found traction, the rest were eager to follow, ripping the air from her lungs. The pounding in her skull spiked to a dizzy thundering, her ribs rattled for mercy and Peter’s grip tightened to offer support.

“You’re okay, shh, shh,” he cooed, worry and warmth mingling in his voice. “You’re okay, just breathe.”

Easier said than done with her sinuses swimming and her chest burning with every crackly gasp. Curling in on herself, reflexive tears burning her eyes, she realized then that the answer to his question was a resounding no. She didn’t want to be here. Her back and butt were sore from staying slumped in this chair for so long. She was cold and clammy and congested and she would much rather be buried under her blankets right now. The only distress this damsel had to be in was that which she was bringing on herself. It could end at any time, if she could only bring herself to take the out her boyfriend was offering.

Whatever results she managed to cobble together definitely weren’t going to be her best work if she kept going now. As Peter had so kindly pointed out, she was top of her class; she had higher standards than this.

“…S-Soup sounds pretty good right now,” she admitted at last in a wet, weary sigh. She didn’t have to glance back at him to sense how he lit up at the words.

“Really? You’re actually gonna—Right! Yes, yes, okay! Coming right up,” he promised with another kiss to her head; although it was brief, she could feel the relief in his smile against her scalp before he bounded across the room to fish through his pack for the Tupperware, as well as a few other essentials. “Okay, we got soup, decongestants, cough syrup, painkillers, cold packs, this heating pad—”

“Since when do you come so prepared?” she sniffled, earning a laugh that somehow managed to be sheepish and sly simultaneously.

“I figured I’d need a pharmacy’s worth of weapons! Pretty sure I’ve convinced supervillains to surrender faster than a stubborn Stacy!”

[tarzinnia]

Thinking a little more on The Amazing Spider-Man 1 & 2, seems like audiences would've been pleased with some of Webb's initial vision from #1 which focused on the relationships, witnessing the pathos of the character arc(s), along with the visual elements (swinging etc) had they been incorporated more into #2. #2 had that some of that feel but it seems like it fell apart towards the end. Maybe some of it was having two villains, plus having to follow the Gwen storyline, plus Peter discovering his father's past, etc but I don't know. Still thought that Gwen's death was depicted really well. That web hand reaching just beautiful. Wouldn't we all like to do that for people we care about to pull them back to us free from harm, free from dying.

Had the sequel been able to continue in the earlier style and use the easter egg method/hints that audiences (smarter than they're given credit) might've enjoyed sleuthing in between movies #2 and #3 (since 3 never happened) perhaps it wouldn't have had that overwhelming feeling of too much and too rushed.

Really thought Webb had the right idea but I also understand the love for the Raimi films as well. It's all good here, a little wishful thinking is all.

[electrictoes]

The SVU Summer Hiatus Bingo 2022 starts on Friday 20th May and ends Thursday 22nd September.

Anyone who wants to participate can, any character, any ship - completely open and up to you. It's supposed to be fun, and there's absolutely no pressure - complete the whole grid, complete a line or two for bingo, or just select scattered prompts that inspire you! The DUN DUN square is a free square.

If the prompts inspire any non-fic content then that’s fine too!

Tag SVU Summer Bingo on tumblr / add fics to the SVU Summer Hiatus Bingo Challenge collection on AO3.

Thank you to @hiimjules for her input and to everyone who contributed ideas; I’ve tried to keep them fairly open!

[quobber]

‘tis the damn season

(part 1/3)

yk what? im not really sure what this is. came along as i wrote it.

Pairing: Gwen Stacy x Peter Parker

Contents: cheating, eventual smut but not this part, friends to lovers (?), angst !!

Words: 3k

Gwen Stacy thinks she threw her life away. Stuck with an emotionally distant husband and uneventful life, she’s under the impression that she’ll never amount to anything. Then she meets Peter Parker, and she begins to realise that she isn’t as damned as she thought.

Gwen didn’t know when she fell out of love with Flash Thompson. It was sweet for a while, innocent, a puppy love. But they shouldn’t have gotten married so young. They shouldn’t have settled down so quickly. Now they were stuck in a loveless marriage, bound together by nothing more than legality.

Gwen wished she hadn’t given her life away. She had hopes, dreams. She wanted to be something in life. She’d thrown everything away for her high school sweetheart who didn’t even give her the time of day.

Her life was painfully average. She sat at a desk all day, writing pointless articles for a boss that paid her too little, went home to a husband who felt nothing for her, and slept terribly, only to wake the next morning and do it all again.

She sat at her desk, keyboard clicking as she wrote yet another article on the mystery that was Spider-Man, although she would have preferred to write literally anything else. She couldn’t care less about the vigilante, but his name sold papers, so she wrote what she had to.

“Stacy. My office.” Jameson’s voice boomed from the phone on Gwen’s desk. She closed her eyes and sighed slowly, getting up. She walked towards her boss’s office, preparing herself for another lecture on her writing.

She stopped once she walked through the door. Someone was already there. He sat across from Jameson. His hair was dark and messy, and he was tall. He turned to face her and for just a moment Gwen swore she couldn’t breathe.

“Stacy, this is Percy Parker. He’s a photographer.”

“It’s Peter, sir.”

“Whatever.”

Gwen blinked at the two of them for a moment, then held her arm out and shook Peter’s hand, giving him a friendly smile. “I’m Gwen Stacy.”

Peter held her hand for just a second longer than he should have, just long enough for them to remember one another’s touch, for it to be tattooed into their skin.

“Nice to meet you.” Peter smiled.

Gwen sat in the chair next to Peter, crossing her legs, and looked at Jameson. He lit a cigar and placed it between his lips, sitting back in his chair.

“Parker’s a new employee. Moving up from freelance. I need you to show him how we do things around here. His desk is next to yours.”

“That’s Betty Brant’s desk.” Gwen furrowed her brows.

“That was Betty Brant’s desk. Why do you think I needed to hire someone new?” Jameson scoffed, “Keep up, Stacy. It isn’t that hard to figure out.”

Gwen shrunk back into her chair and her face turned a light shade of pink. She was used to her boss embarrassing her, but now there was an audience.

“Uh, sir?” Peter spoke up. “Not to be disrespectful or anything, but, did ya really have to do that?”

Both Gwen and Jameson slowly turned to look at Peter, each of them equally surprised. No one stood up to him.

Jameson took a slow drag of his cigar and exhaled, staring Peter down. “You’re on thin ice, Parker. Thin ice. Get out of my office. Both of you.”

Gwen didn’t need to be told twice. She got up and quickly left the room, Peter trailing behind her. Gwen kept her eyes down as she walked back to her desk, still embarrassed over the whole situation. She reached her desk and sat down, gesturing to the desk next to hers.

“That’s yours, I guess.” She mumbled, turning her laptop on.

Peter watched her carefully for several seconds. Gwen felt his eyes on her but she pretended not to notice, opening an unfinished document.

“You really let him talk to you like that?” Peter sat slowly, his eyes glued onto her. Like he couldn’t look away.

“What choice do I have?” Gwen shrugged. “He’ll fire me in a second if I stood up to him.”

“He didn’t fire me.” Peter offered.

“Because you get good pictures. I’m just another writer. I’m replaceable.” Gwen looked up to meet his eyes.

She’d seen his name in the paper before, in the corner of Spider-Man pictures that often went along with her articles. Photographed by Peter Parker. No one got pictures like him. They were, frankly, incredible. Jameson wouldn’t fire him.

“Don’t say that.” Peter shook his head.

Gwen blinked at him for a second longer before she looked back at her screen, going back to writing. Peter didn’t take his eyes off of her.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while.” Gwen finally spoke up, feeling incredibly nervous. Peter was attractive, she wouldn’t deny that, but she wasn’t attracted to him. His gaze just made her heart beat a little bit faster.

“I’m sorry he said that to you. And I’m sorry about your friend.” Peter spoke.

Gwen stopped typing and sighed, “Betty wasn’t my friend. And I don’t care about what he said.”

Gwen wasn’t sure why Peter cared so much. It was an odd feeling, it was almost nice. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had worried about her.

“Okay.” Peter nodded, finally looking away. “I won’t bother you about it anymore.”

Gwen lifted her eyes just slightly to study him once he pulled his eyes away from her. She wanted to ask why he’d spoken up for her, but she decided not to. It was best to just drop the subject.

But that didn’t stop the moment from replaying in her mind over and over and over.

-

Peter had settled in nicely, or as nicely as one can settle into The Daily Bugle. And as much as Gwen hated to admit it, work wasn’t completely unbearable anymore. Peter was nice, he was funny, and he made her feel almost normal. She finally had someone to talk to at work. It had been about two months since Peter was hired, and it was the happiest Gwen felt in a long time.

“How come you never talk about him?” Peter spoke up one morning.

Gwen looked across her desk and at Peter, tilting her head.

“Your husband.” He pointed to her wedding ring.

Gwen’s stomach dropped and she looked down at her hand, shaking her head. “Not much to talk about.”

“Why not?”

One thing about Peter was that he was curious. He constantly asked her questions, seeming to not even care if they were awkward. He constantly wanted to know more about her. And for some reason, Gwen always found herself answering.

“I mean, he barely even talks to me. I wouldn’t know what to say about him.” She gave a short, forced laugh.

Peter frowned and looked down. “Sorry- I didn’t know.”

Silence filled the air and Gwen went back to work, pushing the thought out of her mind.

“Why are you with him then?” Peter sat up straighter. “I mean, I’m sorry if that’s rude, but I think you deserve better.”

“I really don’t need any relationship advice.”

“I’m not tryin’ to give you any advice. I’m telling you that you deserve better.”

Gwen took a deep breath. “Look, Peter, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. Really. You shouldn’t be worrying about my marriage.”

Peter locked eyes with her but said nothing. He wanted to argue further, but it wasn’t his place, and he knew that. So he changed the subject. “What’cha doing after work?”

Gwen eyed him slowly. “Why?”

“I wanna take ya out for coffee.”

She blinked at him.

“Not like- uh, not like a date, obviously.” He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. “Just like.. hanging out. As friends.”

Gwen bit the inside of her cheek. It probably wasn’t a good idea. No matter what Peter said, getting coffee together was pretty date-esque.

But she nodded after a moment. What was the harm? “Sure. Hanging out as friends.”

-

The day dragged by slower than usual. But eventually, somehow, it was 4 p.m. and Gwen was free. She closed her laptop and placed it in her bag, putting her jacket on.

“It’s only a few blocks from here. But it’s the best cafe in the whole city.” Peter walked out of the building with her.

“Really? The whole city?” Gwen smiled.

“The whole city.” Peter nodded, leading the way. “My uncle brought me here for the first time when I was a kid. I swear, it’s incredible.”

Gwen followed close behind him, a slight bounce in her step. She thought walking next to him was too intimate. You walk next to a date, someone you’re close with. Your arms could brush against each other. Your hands could touch. So she walked behind him, to be safe.

They got to the cafe about 5 minutes later. Peter held the door for her and Gwen felt her stomach flutter. She kicked herself internally as she thanked Peter and walked through the door. Those types of things weren’t supposed to make her excited.

The cafe was cute on the inside and Gwen smiled, going up to a display shelf where there were dozens of pastries.

“Best in the whole city.” Peter smiled behind Gwen, his arms crossed as he watched her.

It took a while but Gwen eventually decided what she wanted, ordering a croissant and a cup of tea. She reached for her purse when the cashier rang her up, but Peter put cash down before she could.

“Peter, no-”

“You’re too late, I already did.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee.

Gwen huffed and took her order, shaking her head. “I’m going to pay you back.”

“You’re paying me by being here.” Peter grinned, then walked outside of the cafe. There were three tables outside and Peter sat at one, gesturing to the spot across from him.

Hanging out. As friends.

Gwen sat across from him and took her croissant out of the brown paper bag, shaking her head.

“What?” Peter questioned.

“You said this wasn’t a date.”

“It's not.” Peter grinned. “Does it feel like one?”

“Please let me pay you back.” Gwen huffed, taking a bite of her croissant. “...Oh my god.”

“It’s good, right?” Peter raised his eyebrows.

“It’s really good. You were r-” She looked over Peter’s shoulder.

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

This wasn’t happening.

Flash walked down the street in their direction, not noticing the two of them. Gwen kept her head down.

“..what happened? Are you okay?” Peter had a confused look on his face.

“Shh.” Gwen hissed, trying to hide her face with her hand. But it wasn’t any use as Flash got closer.

Flash did a double take, looking at Gwen then Peter and back to Gwen. He walked up to the table, jaw clenched.

“Flash-” Gwen felt sick suddenly, dizzy and nauseous and head pounding. “I didn’t know you came this way.”

“Obviously.” Flash spat, glaring at Peter. “Who’s this?”

Gwen opened her mouth to speak but Peter stood, his hands up in surrender. “Listen, man, it’s not what ya think. I just took her to get some coffee.”

Beat.

“God knows you don’t.”

The colour drained from Gwen’s face.

“What?” Flash stepped closer to Peter, standing to his full height. Gwen grabbed his arm but he shrugged her off. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

Peter kept his hands in the air. “Because it’s so hard to just be a decent fucking husband, right? You must have it so difficult. I’m so sorry.”

“Peter!” Gwen stood finally, pulling Flash away, looking into his eyes. “Let’s just go, okay? I don’t- I don’t know why he’s being like this. I swear, nothing happened. Nothing will ever happen.”

She shot a glare at Peter as she said the last part, grabbing her purse. She threw some money on the table and shook her head. Her hand was on Flash’s arm as they walked away, trying to calm him down.

-

Peter didn’t show up to work the next two days. Gwen didn’t want to speak to him anyway, but a small part of her wondered what had happened. Was he really giving up his paycheck to avoid her?

Jameson stood by Gwen’s desk, smelling of cigars and cheap cologne.

“Stacy.”

“Good morning.” Gwen sighed, looking up.

“You had two articles due yesterday.”

“Peter hasn’t been here. He has the pictures for the articles.”

Jameson slowly looked at Peter’s desk, as if he hadn’t noticed his absence before. “Well, where is he?!”

Gwen blinked slowly, “I don’t know.”

“Find him! I need those articles by tonight, or you’re fired.” Jameson gruffed, storming back into his office.

Gwen sat back defeatedly in her chair. Jameson threatened her job multiple times a week, so she was pretty much desensitised to it at this point, but a looming fear hung over her this time. Having an article without pictures published would definitely take a chunk out of her paycheck, one that Gwen couldn’t afford to lose with the holidays coming up.

She took her phone out of her purse and dialled Peter’s number. She’d memorised it, because adding his name into her phone felt too personal. They weren’t that close.

“Hey, this is Peter Parker, leave a message.”

Gwen huffed at the fact that she’d been sent straight to voicemail and waited for the tone.

“Peter, hey, I need those pictures. You can go back to avoiding me as soon as I get them. Thanks.”

She paused for a few moments.

“This is Gwen, by the way. Gwen Stacy.”

She hung up and put her phone back into her purse. She opened a document on her laptop and started to edit her latest report. Spider-Man had apparently gotten hurt a few days ago trying to stop a robbery. A part of her, almost unnoticeable, felt sorry for him.

-

Gwen was about to start packing up her things later that day when her phone rang. She looked at it, recognising the number. She accepted the call and held her phone to her ear, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Hi.”

“Hey Gwen,” Peter mumbled from the other line. He sounded tired. “I’m sorry about the pictures. I can swing by- er- yeah- I can drop them off in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Gwen nodded, suddenly overcome with worry. Peter was usually very perky, always in a good mood. Something was off. She was still upset with him, but that could wait.

“...Are you alright?”

There was no answer.

“Peter?”

“Sorry. I’m okay. See you soon.”

He hung up. Gwen sat with her phone still at her ear, mind racing with possibilities of what could be wrong. Was it because of what happened with Flash? Did he feel guilty? Was it nothing and Gwen was just overthinking?

She looked at her laptop, eyes scanning a few lines of her work.

Masked vigilante known as Spider-Man injured while trying to stop a robbery, according to several witnesses.

Gwen’s mouth went dry.

The pictures. The “long lens camera.” The sporadic absences. The constant defence of Spider-Man to Jameson. Spider-Man had gotten hurt, and since then Peter was nowhere to be seen.

She slammed her laptop shut and stood up, throwing her coat on and purse over her shoulder, rushing out of the building. She tried to think of any evidence against her coworker being an anonymous superhero, but the more her mind worked the more it made sense. She walked faster.

“Woah- Gwen- I said I’d come to you.”

Gwen looked up and saw Peter walking towards her. She didn’t know what to do, she wasn’t ready to deal with this new information. She tried to swerve around him.

Peter placed a gentle hand on her arm, looking into her eyes with concern. “Are you okay? You look pale. Don’t ya need these?” He held up a few pictures.

“Give them right to Jameson.” Gwen avoided his eyes.

“Hey, listen,” Peter eyed her carefully. “I’m so sorry about what I said to him. It wasn’t my place, and I- I really should’ve kept my mouth shut, and if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you please let me know.”

Gwen looked at him finally, a dark bruise on his cheek that furthermore confirming what she already knew.

“But Gwen, I meant what I said. I shouldn’t have said it, but I meant it. Why are you even with him? Why did you marry that guy? Do you know how much better you deserve?”

Gwen pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head.

“..He wasn’t always like that. He used to take me out to dinner, tell me I looked pretty. He used to be a good husband. But, I don’t know, people change.”

She smiled sadly at the memories she usually avoided. It wasn’t that they were unpleasant, but if she thought about them for too long she got sad. She missed loving, and being loved.

“Then why do you stay?” Peter’s hand was still on her arm, eyes still staring deeply into hers.

“I stay because I have to. I have bills, Peter, a mortgage, student loans, I couldn’t do all that by myself.”

Peter sighed sadly and let go of her arm.

Gwen studied him. Peter was just a normal guy. A kind, attractive, normal guy. She couldn’t believe he spent his free time in a costume fighting crime.

“I don’t need you to save me,” she spoke, “I know that’s kind of your whole thing, but please give it a rest. Stick to saving kittens from trees, bug boy. Maybe you won't get hurt that way.” Gwen whispered. Peter kept a poker face for the most part, but Gwen could see a flicker of worry darken his eyes.

“See you tomorrow.” Gwen took a deep breath and started walking again.

***

part 2

part 3

[diana-bookfairchild]

Title: those who have never sought it Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: None. Warnings: Canon level violence. Trauma. Flashbacks of a sort Prompt: @badthingshappenbingo - Killing in Self-Defense @whumpcember - The End is Nigh and Desperation

Peter had just—

He’d killed. He’d activated the Instant Kill Mode.

He remembered asking Mr. Stark exactly what that setting was supposed to do. He’d been going through Karen’s coding in the lab, adding what Ned and he’d figured out for a sort of explosive GPS. They’d thought it might help with the Queens Arsonist.

Mr. Stark had looked solemn. He’d put away the fabricator to come talk to him. “Kid,” he’d said. “I dragged you to Germany. It was wrong of me, incredibly so, but I did. That was … the big leagues. Your groundwork is important, but things like that – they could get you killed.”

Peter had swallowed. He was hardly unaware of mortality. If burying empty coffins for his parents at age six hadn’t driven that lesson in, holding Ben as he bled out on the asphalt certainly had.

 But Mr. Stark’s heavy tone spoke to horrors even beyond those. It reminded Peter of trying to figure out a way to dig a bullet out of himself one of his first weeks Spider-Manning, of being helpless as the Vulture’s claws choked the breath out of him and his vision blurred, of the sad, grave look on May’s face when she lost someone from FEAST or at the hospital, of the dark circles under Ned’s eyes after Peter woke up post two days in a medically induced coma, of inhaling dirt and sobbing desperately as he tried to hold up the collapsed warehouse.

Mr. Stark had clapped a hand on his shoulder tightly. “Instant Kill’s a last resort. It’s ridiculously dangerous, and Karen’s programmed to reflect that. But I’d rather you have that if there’s even the slightest chance it might help you someday.”

And now it was.

And Peter loathed it.

He didn’t want to kill.

It wasn’t that Peter didn’t respect people who he knew had killed. He knew Mr. Stark had killed many terrorists and aliens and blah blah blah. He was an Avenger, and that wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. He knew Miss Potts had killed Obadiah Stane and The Mandarin. Daredevil didn’t pull his punches with his villains. Deadpool was a straight up mercenary.

But the whole concept behind Spider-Man was that he showed mercy. He’d sworn before Uncle Ben’s grave that he would never walk past a tragedy he could prevent again.

And killing was always a tragedy. What right did Peter, seventeen-year-old high schooler, have to be judge, jury and executioner? The Vulture was a villain, but he was also Liz’s dad. How many others were like that?

Yet Peter stood now, with the world’s most powerful collection of rocks in his hand, swinging desperately and leaving dead bodies in his wake.

They were aliens, but they were sentient beings. Peter’s animal rights sensibilities brain screamed every time he punched one and one of his pincers killed them.

It’s self-defense, he told himself firmly. I have to do it. Just incapacitating them isn’t enough – they’ll just get back up. I don’t know how quick or well aliens get rejuvenated.

And now that he’d killed once – several times, in fact – he knew the option of killing would never leave his brain. Every time this happened, he would hesitate lesser and lesser to kill.

And the line between hero and villain – especially vigilante and villain, according to certain police officers and newspapers – was very thin.

Overwhelmed by his thoughts and the unending stream of hostiles trying to take the gauntlet, he cried out for help. He had about two seconds to fanboy over Captain America being able to wield Mjolnir and having a nickname for him before chaos reigned once more.

Miss Potts saved his life, and a very nice woman on a Pegasus. Peter rolled over, gasping for breath, trying to hide himself from the enemies who wanted the gauntlet.

This is going to end soon, he told himself. From his perspective, he’d fought at Titan with Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange and the Guardians of the Galaxy just to end up on Earth continuing the fight.

 Dr. Strange had said it’d been five years, but that hadn’t really processed until he saw the older, more ragged version of Mr. Stark staring at him like he was a miracle, cradling his face like he was something precious, holding him like he would never let go, showing emotion in a way he would’ve never allowed himself to just a day – five years ago.

It had to end soon.

Dr. Strange had said that there was only once chance out of 14000605 that they won. This had to be it.

Right?

Anxiety roped through his chest, making it hard to breathe. The stones glinted in the dull lighting and off the blood and dirt. Pretty, he thought absently.

The blue one was obviously the Tesseract – the Space Stone, Dr. Strange had called it. Anybody who had the internet would know that one, after the Battle of New York.

The sandy one – the Mind Stone - he was used to seeing on Vision’s face. He wondered how Thanos had gotten it in the end. It hadn’t been in the Gauntlet on Titan.

The orange one sent chills down his body. He hadn’t known what it was prior to being turned into dust, but he certainly did now. He didn’t know how the others had felt it, but he’d felt his body disintegrating, the Soul Stone pulling him into its void.

The screams around him were intense. As discomposed as he was right now, he could hear everything. Mr. Stark’s repulsors – or were they Miss Potts’ or Colonel Rhodes’ or Princess Shuri’s? The whoosh at Ant-Man expanding or shrinking in size. The whirring in the spaceship above them. The flapping of the Pegasus’ wings. Parts of the Compound still collapsing. Someone asking for the Gauntlet.

Peter gave a strangled laugh. This was what was being fought over. The glove in his hand was one of the most - if not the most powerful - weapons in the universe.

Absurdly, he was reminded of playing Passing-the-Parcel in Abe Brown’s birthday party in third grade. He’d prayed not to get out. He supposed the stakes were just a tad higher in this game.

He heard repulsors whir again, and felt his stomach tighten. What would Miss Potts do if Mr Stark died? What would T’Challa do if Shuri died? What would Mr Stark do if Miss Potts or Colonel Rhodes died?

What would he do if Mr Stark died?

This was going to end soon. It had to.

But how was it going to end? What would happen?

What if Thanos showed up right now and snatched the gauntlet from him? What if the Squidward-lookalike turned up again?

The spaceship above them clanked and tumbled. He heard guns and satellites being loaded in there. What were they aiming at? Was he going to be blown up into the bits of dust and dirt he liked to imagine Ben was still watching him from?

He could know, he realized suddenly. He had a foolproof way right in his hands.

He remembered the way Dr. Strange spasmed while invoking the Time Stone, how he’d looked at Mr Stark and said solemnly that it was the only way before dying. He remembered learning about paradoxes and how knowing the future can sometimes be worse than not. He remembered the gauntlet coming into his hands on Titan, victory slipping through his fingers like fine sand. He remembered begging Mr Stark to save him as he fell apart.

He looked back at the Stones. They glowed tantalizingly.

There was a plan, he thought. Something about a van and a time machine. How could he know better than so many experienced heroes?

But then. He remembered reading about Sokovia. He remembered kneeling in front of Ben as he gasped his dying breaths. He remembered sobbing with desperation and cleaning dirt encrusted blood off his arms later.

He remembered the choked cry the first alien he had killed had let out right before they stopped breathing.

Never again.

He dug out the green glowing Time Stone from the gauntlet, thankful for his super strength, and on an afterthought took the red and purple ones too.

He wanted to change reality, after all. And that would take a lot of power.

He wasn’t sure how to use the stones. Dr. Strange was the time keeper and Thanos had just waved his hand around to use them.

He felt the sheer power, the radiation eating away at his body and spirit. His Spider-sense rang like a bell.

Thoughts, memories, emotions swirled around him in a vortex.

I am never walking past another tragedy I can prevent.

I don’t want to ever kill again.

—And another Parker grave added to the set —

May. Ned. Mr Stark. MJ. They have to be okay.

—And Ben was dying again, his blood spilling over his hands and their clothes and the dirt —

What is going to happen?

—And May was saying “It’s just me and you” —

How do we win?

—And Ned and he were high-fiving as they opened their acceptance letters to Midtown —

W H A T D O I H A V E T O D O

— And Mr Stark was scolding him for being reckless while patching him up as he tried to convince him that building a lightsaber would be a great idea —

H  O  W  D  O  I  M  A  K  E  S  U  R  E

—And Ned was screaming in excitement as he swung from the building and saved someone else from the fire —

I   N   E   E   D   T   O   K   N   O   W

—And he was brushing the spider off after the sudden sting, impatient and wanting to re-join the tour group—

D    O    I    N    E    E   D   T    O    C    H    A    N    G    E     A    N    Y    T    H   I    N   G

—And he’d just accidentally broken down a door and was staring at it in bewilderment—

G     O     O     O     D     M     U     S     T     P     R     E     V     A     I     L

—And MJ was smirking at him right after driving Flash away and tossing him a drawing of him ‘in crisis’—

A     H      A      P      P      Y      E      N     D      I     N     G?

He blinked his eyes open.

His eyelids felt unusually heavy.

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” A voice mused, and suddenly Peter knew who he was and what he was doing there.

“Son of Mary and Richard,” Another voice joined.

“Beloved of Maybelle and Benjamin and Anthony and Edward and Michelle and Morgan,” A third added.

“We hear your request,” All three chorused.

Peter stumbled to his feet, wrung out. He wasn’t sure where the hell he was. He wasn’t sure of anything – least of all how he felt after that rollercoaster of memories and sensations.

“So, you’re going to grant it--?” He asked awkwardly.

The view shook like it was an optical illusion. The part that didn’t was the cemetery – where his parents and Ben were laid to rest. One moment the three were humanoid figures. The next they were large rocks. They glowed the colour of the Infinty Stones.

Peter couldn’t feel his body or his Spidey Sense, but he could somehow tell the one which was speaking was faintly amused. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“It’s opposing the previous thing you did,” he pointed out. “Or – well, I don’t know if it counts because you’re from the past—”

“We are infinity, child,” one said indifferently. “What would that matter?”

“We merely perform the functions for which we were created,” the third said. “Which includes following the orders of the worthy. The Timekeeper – Stephen Strange – proved himself by showing perseverance, accepting the death of his mentor, and mastering the Mystic Arts. Thanos did by being powerful, determined and a leader enough to collect all of us despite the sacrifices and struggles he had to go through. Anthony Stark would have proven himself by being willing to give up everything, through his sheer will and love.”

Mr Stark would have what--?

“What would the nature of the command do to us?” The first one said idly, still sounding amused. “Whatever happens, whatever goes on in the universes – Time, Space, Mind, Power, Soul and Reality remain constant.”

“Though not so much in this case,” The third continued, “You do wish to mold reality, child?”

Peter felt his ghosts pressing into him. It was his mom and dad, teaching him to become who he was, Uncle Ben who handed over the most important lesson of his life, Aunt May who endured and loved, Ned who was steadfast, Mr Stark who understood and equipped. “Whatever it takes.”

They considered him. “So young,” they hissed as one. “To be carrying the burdens of so many.”

And then suddenly Peter wasn’t in that limbo – he was Carol Danvers who felt a smug sense of satisfaction at blowing up the ship and empathy for teenage superhero Peter Parker; he was Steve Rogers who became worthy of Mjolnir and fought to the bitter end and his happy ending; he was Tony Stark who looked over the compound and thought of his family and decided it was worth it; he was May Parker looming helplessly over her nephew as he grieved at the funeral of someone else he loved; he was Morgan Stark as she stared at the stars and grew up; he was Sam Wilson being handed a legacy; he was T’Challa learning to rule a kingdom he’d been absent from five years; he was Yelena Belova and screaming and raging at the unfairness of the world; he was America Chavez traversing one universe after another in search of something she couldn’t name; he was Ned Leeds discovering magic; he was May Parker reinforcing her husband’s lesson; he was Michelle Jones watching helplessly as the boy she loved disappeared from the world and her mind; he was Peter Parker deciding not to involve the people he loved in his mess; he was Johnny Storm agreeing lazily to a trip in space; he was Queen Shuri screaming her grief into the world and meeting T’Challa the second; he was Jane Foster hoping for a cancer treatment; he was Thor looking for life’s meaning again; he was Shang-Chi being sent on the mission that would change life forever; he was Captain Monica Rambeau getting sucked into the Scarlet Witch’s world; he was Jennifer Walters getting powers; he was Wanda Maximoff destroying Mount Wundagore  – he was so many and no one at all at once.

He was Peter Parker crouched in the ditch in the battlefield in the Battle of Earth, Peter Parker at Tony Stark’s funeral, Peter Parker stumbling over his words to confess his feelings to MJ before she pointed out the drone, Peter Parker holding his aunt’s body begging her to wake up, Peter Parker meeting his dimensional counterparts and thinking family, Peter Parker at the Statue of Liberty, Peter Parker kissing Johnny Storm as the world ended, Peter Parker going out in a burst of explosions and glory against Kang. He was all of them and yet someone new.

Peter blinked. His eyelids were surprisingly heavy. His brain tried to reorganize itself from the scrambled mess it had become, hurriedly trying to incorporate the injected memories.

He’d asked what would happen.

He supposed he’d gotten his answer.

“I think you broke the boy,” The perpetually amused one said interestedly.

“I’m fine,” Peter said. He thought his throat would be dry if he could actually feel it. “I. . .”

In the end, it wasn’t all bad. Thanos would die. Kingpin would be defeated as the Vulture was. The Incursion would be prevented. Beyonder, Titania and the others of the alliance would fall. Kang’s reign would be ended. Humanity would push on as it always did, cockroaches in the fabric of reality.

But in the meantime. . . So much suffering. So much pain. So much tragedy that could be prevented.

But what could he do? He was just one person. Sure, he’d been and would be important in fights and confrontations that changed the world, but he couldn’t singlehandedly overturn every single disaster, much less ones of as epic proportions as Thanos and the Alliance and Infinity Ultron and Kang.

“A happy ending,” The apathetic one mulled over the words. “That was your wish. How would you propose that happen?”

“I guess I’ll go back and try to prevent some of the worse things from happening. . .?” Peter volunteered, entirely unenthused about the prospect. How was he supposed to stop Mr Stark from snapping? Or Wanda from going crazy with grief? Or Wilson Fisk from running the mafia?

What even qualified as bad things? Johnny getting his powers had been traumatic, but he’d later helped save the world multiple times and – Peter would’ve blushed if he could’ve. He thought the Human Torch had been happy by the end.  

Peter suddenly felt sick and wished fervently he hadn’t done this. He had no idea what to do or how to resolve any of the numerous moral quandaries he needed to in order to progress. He'd killed. He'd taken life. Surely that should have gotten rid of some of his ethics? 

“Would that give you your happy ending?” The third – the humane - one inquired. “Everyone you care for alive? The world saved?”

Peter was motionless and he felt his Spidey Sense give a long warble before curling down to settle. 

If you expect disappointment, then you can never really get disappointed.

Everyone wants a happy ending, right?

Everything Spider-Man touches comes to ruin.

Okay, so let ‘em do their thing. You can go work on a fallback plan.

Strong enough to have it all, too weak to take it.

If you’re nothing without the suit, you shouldn’t have it.

You have a gift. You have power. And with great power, there must also come great responsibility.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, resigned.

“’Want me to do’,” The amused one said, savouring each word. “Nothing, boy. But it was your wish to have your happy ending.”

“And that isn’t possible in this timeline,” the humane one continued.

Peter had to agree. He hated it, but he agreed. Even if he snapped right now instead of Mr Stark, EDITH existed and Quentin Beck would want it, the Multiverse would still break but instead of him some poor sorcerer apprentice would be caught up in it, without him around Fisk would be a lot more open with his general shadiness, Shuri would still lose everything, MJ and Ned would still get caught up in some nonsense because they were people with large hearts and a deep intelligence and he wouldn’t be there to save them, and without his sacrifice Kang might be able to get the edge on them.

Peter was one insignificant soul – but in the grand scale of things he did matter.

“So what do I do?”

“You picked up Time, Power and me,” The indifferent one – Reality, apparently – said. “What was your intention there?”

“Um,” Peter said dumbly. “Dr. Strange used the – Time to see the future, which is what I wanted to do. And I wanted to change it if I needed to so Reality – you.”

“And you thought I would be necessary to do that,” The amused one, Power, said.

“Which is fair enough,” Time, the humane one, said. “Since that is what allows us to do this.”

“Do what?” Peter asked, alarm stirring. His Sense gave a light buzz but didn’t tingle, which probably meant this wasn’t going to harm him.

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” Power thundered.

“Bearer of the gauntlet,” Time said.

“Holder of Infinity,” Reality announced.

“You will be sent back to your body on the date of May 23rd 2016,” Time glowed oddly at the words.

Peter was still stuck on the point. “Wait – time travel? Like Back to the Future? Or Peggy Sue got married?”

“You did agree that The Battle of the Earth is a point of no return for your happy ending,” Reality pointed out boredly. “The only logical conclusion is to therefore send you to sometime where you can work towards it.”

“Foster better relationships with the other Avengers and diplomacy with alien planets,” Power said, like he – she – they – it? Was ticking items off a list. “Take down Kingpin and Vulture sooner. Stabilize the multiverse.”

“You say that like it’s simple,” Peter said vaguely – but his mind was whirring.

There were so many things he could do better. So much he could make easier for Ned and Mr Stark and Dr. Strange and the Avengers.

The chance to have a do-over was something people would give anything for. Excitement and panic began to build up. Something occurred to him. “Why May 2016? Why – why not before?”

Ben, he thought longingly. Ben had died in January. He could go back. He could - he could save him, apologize to him, see him again—

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Time said gently. “The day you met Anthony Stark is the day you were set on this path. Your being bitten by the spider and Benjamin Parker’s death are universal constants. Them being changed would be too much too quick.”

Peter swallowed his bitterness and the stinging in his eyes. He supposed his parents’ and Ben’s survival would be too much to ask.

The world is unfair, he thought, remembering MJ telling him she loved him on Liberty Island, the blood and dirt and the light fading from the eyes of Ben and Mr Stark and May, Ned’s desolate eyes when he’d learned his dad’s fate, the way Shuri screamed when her mother died, Johnny’s final supernova, dying in pain and alone without knowing Kang had been defeated, but it’s ours. I have power. Power to change everything, to give us a happier ending. The end is close, but so is a new beginning. I have a responsibility to everyone who doesn’t have that power.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. “I’m doing this.”

“Excellent,” Reality said briskly. “Now—”

“You must choose your companions,” Power said, voice light. “Whom will you choose?”

“W-What do you mean?” Peter asked, thrown off.

“You may choose five companions,” Reality said.

“One for each of us,” Power said.

“I can choose?” he asked, bewildered.

“Your happy ending,” Reality reminded him brightly. “Your choice.”

His happy ending. That had been his final, most fervent wish when handling the Stones. No wonder they were harping on that so much.

Peter wished he could feel his corporeal body, because he really wanted to pinch himself. Aliens, space, Infinity Stones. . . It was hard to believe only a day ago to him he’d been on a field trip to MoMA listening to Flash moan about the horrid bus conditions.

But how the hell could he choose?

He needed people whom he trusted, but who would also be ready to give everything up to save the world.

Peter wasn’t unaware of what he was doing. He may be dazed, but he was a smart kid, as Mr Stark often told him. He was giving up his May, his Ned, his MJ, his Johnny, his Shuri, his Matt, his Wade, the life that would have been his – tragic, sure, but also filled with love and laughter and heroism.

He needed to find people who would have been worse off if this timeline continued.

One choice was instant. He ticked all the boxes, and he was one of the people Peter loved and trusted most in the world. “Mr Stark.”

The Stones gave no sign as to what their opinion of his choice was.

Mr Stark covered the Avengers, and earthly heroes. If he needed to build bridges with aliens and maintain the multiverse, he needed people experienced in that – “Dr. Strange.” He remembered the future he saw for Dr. Strange. He liked America Chavez, from what he’d seen of her, and hoped the doctor would be able to find her sooner.

Two safe ones. Now to shake the boat a bit.

Aliens were harder. He supposed one of the Guardians of the Galaxy would do, but he couldn’t think of how they might have any power over the entirety of space. He considered Thor – Thor, the strongest, the god of thunder, Peter’s bi reveal – but what he needed was someone subtler. Someone sneakier. Someone who practiced magic.

Controversial, but he’d died. Peter thought he could cut him some slack. “Loki.”

Avengers. Aliens. Multiverse. For the street level, though. . . . He needed someone with power on the business side of things. Someone who was strong, who had managed Stark Industries and its trade and resources with other planets and countries for years after becoming a widow. Someone without whom Morgan – Morgan, his beloved little sister – couldn’t exist. “Mrs. Potts.”

Peter suddenly realized he’d already filled four spots. He only had one left. He longed to say May or Ned. May and Ned, who had been there with him since his parents had died nearly a decade ago. May and Ned, the two people whom he loved most in the world. May and Ned, who were invaluable to him, but held no significant power when it came to changing the world.

Peter closed his eyes to prevent the rush of tears. It seemed his physicality could change when he felt devastation. With these words, he was losing his emotional support as he knew them. May would go back to being the fun aunt who had no idea he was Spider-Man. Ned would be the happy-go-lucky best friend, not the traumatized sorcerer and programmer who’d grown with him and faced multiversal dangers.

This is my power. This is my responsibility. The Green Goblin was wrong. I am Spider-Man.

“Shuri.” Shuri, his friend, who had lost everything the way Peter had. She deserved a chance for a do-over too. And she could help advance technology to the level it was in space, and help T’Challa and Mr Stark and Mrs Potts influence the UN and the wider world.

“Wise choices,” Reality said, for once sounding solemn.

“And you did not choose selfishly,” Power observed. “Very well, Peter Parker. The best of luck on your mission. We have fulfilled your desire to the best of our abilities.”

“Your happy ending, your future is now up to you,” Reality said, once more sounding entertained.

 “Selflessness must be rewarded.” Time said. “And so as a final gift: knowledge of the Time Variance Authority. And Edward Leeds.”

Peter’s blood rushed through his head as more knowledge filled it, and simultaneously joy and relief sprung through him. Ned.

The world filled with the colours of infinity.

It looked like the Soul Stone’s realm.

The six people he’d chosen stood in front of him.

“Pete?” Mr Stark asked, sounding confused. “What’s going on?”

Peter straightened with glorious purpose.

My power. My responsibility.

My happy ending.

“We have a mission,” he began.

[altsvu]

long lost

pairing: peter stone x black!fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

summary: peter left you. but when he comes back it’s like he never left, if not better than that.

tw: smut smut smut (p in v sex, oral sex, teasing), fluff, a little angst

a/n: i love me some peter stone 🤭 yet once again this has been sitting in my notes for a long time, since 2020 actually… but we’re not gonna talk abt it. i think of this fic as a twist to the season 20 finale since it’s based on stone leaving. i got a little carried away with this one, i think this is my longest fic yet!

law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

“Peter, why do you have to leave?”

“I just have to. I lost perspective, so I need to move on for a little while.”

“But what do you mean? Peter, you’re not talking to me.”

“I can’t tell you right now. I will tell you, but I can’t now.”

You were going through a lot of different emotions at the same time. Frustration, sadness, anger even. Tears were forming in your eyes, and when the first one rolled down your cheek, it became instant waterworks.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I really am. I will talk to you soon,” Peter said, his eyes getting red and tearing up as well.

Before you could even answer, Peter gave you a quick hug and you watched him walk out the door with his packed duffel bag as if he was in a hurry.

That broke you.

✯✯✯✯

8 months later:

“We should call Liv.” You said.

“She has a thing, told us not to call her unless it’s urgent.” Kat said.

You stared at the text containing the lab results.

“We may have let one of the guilty men get away with a double rape and murder. This is pretty urgent to me.”

“Y/L/N...”

“If she gets upset then she gets upset.” You replied, pulling up Liv’s number and calling it.

“Y/N! What’s going on?” Liv asked.

“Lab results. We need to talk about them. And get new arrest warrants fast.”

“Are they that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll send you the address of where I am right now, you and Kat can meet me.”

“Thanks, Liv.” You said, hanging up.

“Call Carisi?”

You then looked to Kat, gunning the engine. “Yes. We’re going on a little trip.”

When you and Kat got to Liv’s location, you got a call from Melinda. You had asked her a favor that would help with the case.

“Melinda.” You said on the phone. Kat was ahead of you and you heard her greeting Liv. “Oh. Okay, okay... third person?... but they didn’t rape her... so he’s still guilty... okay, okay... thank you Melinda, I owe you.”

You sighed and looked back at the lab results once over then looked up to address Liv and Fin when you saw who was in front of you.

“Peter?” You asked. It had been 8 months since you saw him last. Probably even more than that.

To your knowledge, he left after the case against Rob Miller. You didn’t even want to think about that case the way it had you and the rest of your squad stressed out. You didn’t find out what really happened that made him leave until two months ago from Liv and you were still distraught that he didn’t have the balls to tell you about it.

You took a good look at him. He looked a little different but he was still his beautiful, sexy self and you loved that, despite everything.

“Y/N.” He smiled. He pulled you into his arms for a tight hug. You inhaled the scent of his cologne on his coat. He kissed the top of your head before letting you go. “How are you?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Amazing.” He smiled.

“Hey, I hate to interrupt but what are the results?” Fin asked.

You opened your phone and Peter saw the lock screen of you and him at the annual gala a year and a half ago. He had his arm around you and was kissing you on the forehead. “There’s a third person. Melinda just told me. And we need to get the other man we let go the other day.”

“Good. Kat, where are we with arrest warrants?” Liv asked.

“I’ll call Carisi again.” she said, walking away from the group.

“So, the third guy, do we know who he is?”

“Yes. His only brother.” You replied.

“Carisi’s on board with the arrest warrants.” Kat said.

“And while you’re at it, ask him for the warrant for the brother too. Fin, go with them, they’ll need another person to arrest the men.”

“On it.” Fin said and got up from his seat.

You started towards the door when Peter took your hand.

“Hey. Maybe we can talk over a light meal or a drink later? Here’s my new number.” He whispered, sliding a card in your hand with his other hand.

You looked down at it for a bit, then looked back up at him. All your intimate memories with him started to rush back in and you prayed that you wouldn’t fold for him right on the spot, in front of all these people.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You whispered back. He pulled you in his arms again. "Good luck out there."

"Thank you Peter," you smiled, slightly getting on your tippy-toes and planting a light kiss on his jaw, a place that you loved kissing him on.

✯✯✯✯

You finally got home after a long evening processing the three suspects and taking their statements.

When you took off your jacket, the little card Peter gave you fell out of the pocket. You picked it up and stared at it long and hard. You missed him a lot and it would be nice to catch up with him.

“Hello?”

“Hey Peter, it’s me Y/N.”

“Y/N, oh, it’s so good to see and hear from you. I’m guessing you called to partake in my offer.”

“If it’s not too late?”

“It’s never too late, especially when it’s you.”

“You’re sweet. Today was super stressful, I’m lucky I have tomorrow off. I wouldn’t mind spending my night with you.” You said in a flirty tone. Accidentally.

“That’s great. You can tell me all about your day, you know I would love to hear it all. I’ll pick you up in 30, I figure you just got home?”

“Yes I did, sounds amazing. Thank you for this Peter. I really needed it.”

It was super cold considering that it was only fall, but you still decided to wear one of your more sexier matching bra and panty sets, which you only wore those for special occasions.

This was a special occasion.

You put on a thick ivory colored turtleneck sweater dress, sheer tights and black above the knee boots. To top it off, you put on your oversized trench coat along with your dainty earrings and a black fur hat.

You looked at your makeup in the mirror. You didn’t do anything dramatic, just a simple brown liner/lip gloss combo, and you redid your concealer and mascara. Peter definitely loved that lip combo on you.

You continued applying finishing touches to your look when you heard your doorbell ring. You went to the door to see Peter with a bouquet of roses in his hand and a big smile on his face.

“Hi, thank you.” You smiled, taking the roses from his hand and placing them on your counter, making a mental note to put them in sugar water when you got back.

“Of course,” he said, pulling you into another hug. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just get my coat.”

✯✯✯✯

“Hey, get comfortable. It’s warm in here.” Peter said.

You slipped off your jacket and fur hat, then sat down to slip off your boots.

“Room service should be coming soon, but I have some wine here for us in the meantime.” Peter said, sitting next to you pouring two glasses.

He was wearing the same clothes he was wearing earlier, just without the coat and suit jacket.

“You look beautiful.” He whispered after handing you your glass. “Did I forget to tell you that?”

You pushed some of your curls behind your ear. “You’re so sweet.”

He smiled at you as he was pouring his glass. There was a bit of silence as you two were enjoying the first few sips of wine.

“So, how have things been working out at SVU?”

“Things have been going pretty good. Finally we’re not as short staffed as before.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah very. What about you? What’s been going on in your life?”

“Besides being here with you after six months, nothing much. In all honesty, I’m just glad to back. I went back to Chicago, spent some time by myself, worked in a small law firm for a bit. It was nice, but not all that amazing.”

“Well, I’m glad you were doing good when you were in Chicago.”

“I had to do something, right?” He smiled, laying down on the bed.

You laughed a bit, taking another sip of wine.

“How are you, though?”

You took a few more sips and turned to look in Peter’s eyes.

“I... don’t know.” You whispered. “These past few months were hard for me, but I just pushed my emotions aside. Besides that... I’ve had my good days.”

Peter was silent for a bit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come here.” He whispered, opening his arm out for you. You crawled in his arms.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind. I shouldn’t have left you period. For the first two months I was there, I couldn’t get that memory of you crying out of my head. I couldn’t even bear to call you because of how terrible I made you feel. I couldn’t even tell you what really happened that forced my hand to leave.”

You sighed. “What happened after?”

“I don’t know, after that I honestly thought you hated me and you didn’t want to hear from me. You looked so happy when you were posting on social media and- I don’t know, Y/N, it was hard.”

He told you what happened 8 months ago following the Rob Miller case in full detail, and although you already knew what happened, it felt reassuring hearing it in his words, his point of view.

“I understand. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while.”

He turned and looked at you. “Anything.”

“Despite everything that we’ve been through, our ups and down, just everything... I love you Peter. I still do.”

“I love you too.” He responded. Peter moved closer to you and gave you a kiss on your lips. It enabled you to kiss him back, and give him even more kisses. You and him then rolled around in bed, kissing each other more when one of Peter’s hands went up your dress, touching your bare body.

“You’re wearing one of your special occasion lingerie.”

“I knew you’d figure it out.”

“After months of being intimate with you, I think I’ve figured out your tricks. Like this.”

He pulled down your tights a bit and traced his finger around the rose tattoo that was along your bikini line.

“There’s one more that you don’t know about.” You whispered, pulling off your tights. You then got off the bed and went to the mirror that was in the room.

You slowly removed your dress, revealing your body that Peter longed for. You saw him coming up to you from behind.

“You know how I feel about the lingerie you’re wearing.”

“I know. That’s why I wore it.” You whispered. You felt the outline of his length slightly press against your lower back.

“I’m glad. I think you missed me a lot.” He whispered. He ran his fingers along your back tattoo, the Chinese symbols for pleasure and love. He then kissed it lightly. “Pleasure and love.”

“I got it a month after you left. I guess it was kind of a way for me to relieve some of the pain. It didn’t really work the way I wanted to, as you probably know.”

“Hey,” Peter whispered, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I’m here now, and I don’t ever want to leave you again.”

You twisted around and you kissed him passionately. You turned back to face the mirror.

“And I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Well, while we’re here...” Peter started. You felt his hands move to your bra hooks. “The lingerie is beautiful, but there’s something else I find more beautiful.” He slowly removed the hooks one at a time until they were all off. Going to the straps, he slid them off one by one, giving you chills because of how slow he was doing so.

Your bra was completely off and you let Peter cup one of your breasts in his hand. His free hand slid down to your underwear, massaging your opening.

“You’re already wet for me, huh?” He whispered against your skin. His lips brushed your skin ever so slightly and it gave you chills.

“Mmm, yeah.” You smiled, getting pleasure from Peter’s massages.

You turned around after he pulled his fingers out of you underwear. He kissed you starting from your lips to your waist, pulling down your underwear. He kissed your bikini line, licking the rose tattoo. When he got back up, he had his hands on you bare hips.

“I missed this in Chicago.” He said.

“Well this time’s worth the wait.” You smiled. You took the liberty of helping Peter out of his clothes, then you pushed Peter to the bed and as he moved to the middle of the bed, you got on top of him.

“Please, I want to come inside you.” He pleaded, starting to adjust himself to your opening.

You let him go inside you, and it was the best feeling ever. He had his hands on your butt, squeezing it as you thrusted faster and faster.

“Fuck Peter, I don’t think you understand how much I missed this.” You breathed hard, tossing your head back.

Peter kissed your chest and your boobs, one by one, giving you goosebumps.

“Me too. You’re so beautiful, I could fuck you all night.”

You sat back up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I can make that arrangement.”

“Good.” He whispered. You continued thrusting faster, which made Peter reach his climax much faster. You could see the tears forming in his eyes. “Y/N,” He pleaded as you were thrusting. “Please, let me come inside you. I’m almost there.”

You felt a wave of relief rushing through your body as you and Peter had reached your climaxes.

He pulled out and took a deep breath. He looked at you calming down from your climax. You took his hand and pulled him closer to you.

“How’s that for being in Chicago?”

“Much better than any sex we’ve had since we met.” Peter whispered, slowly pushing his two fingers inside you. Your lips parted and you leaned back as he pushed inside you and teased your pulsing pearl, feeling another rush flow through your body. He watched you and caressed your cheek as moans and whimpers escaped your mouth. He admired every single thing about your body, from you baby soft face, your smile, the legs that he always longed to open after a long Friday after work, and so much more.

He then went to the end of your body and held your legs up. You felt his tongue on your folds licking up all of the juices you produced. His tongue was encircling your clit and you were getting even more aroused.

“Do you want me inside you again?”

You breathed out yes and teased you first before he pushed inside you. He ordered you to look at him, he wanted to watch you fall apart under him. He praised you excessively, telling you that you looked beautiful, that he wanted you all to himself, and even that you were his baby girl and you were doing so good for him. That sent you over the edge.

“Peter…” you moaned. You felt yourself reaching another high under him.

“Are you gonna come all over me? It’s okay.” Peter smiled. “I love it when you do that.”

You smiled back at him and felt the last wave of relief move through your body as your hips rolled.

“Ugh now I feel embarrassed.” You laughed.

“Why? It’s a natural part of arousal.” Peter smiled, pulling out.

“I know, it’s just... I haven’t done it in a while. Not with anyone else, at least.” You admitted, getting up going towards the bathroom.

“Wait.” Peter whispered, going after you.

“Yes, Peter, I have a dildo, okay?” You whispered back. “And no, it’s not the same experience compared to when I’m with you. Even though I think about- you know what, we’re not gonna talk about it anymore.” You walked into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“You thought of me, didn’t you?” Peter asked, coming up behind you.

“Yes.”

Peter’s hands tickled your waist. “You missed me so much, Y/N. It’s okay.”

“Jesus, Peter.” You laughed. “Of course I did. Now let me pee.”

“Okay okay.” He sneaked a kiss on your neck before you slipped out of his arms and went to use the bathroom. He then went to turn on the shower. “You should join me after.” He said to you before hopping in.

When you finished, you slipped in the shower.

“I know the hotel doesn’t have the exquisite shower products that you have back at your place, but a simple rag and bar soap can suffice for now.”

You were standing under the water for a bit, using the soap he gave you. “You remembered.”

“I mean, yeah. Going to your place on a Friday night was my favorite part of the week. And God, that shower.” Peter smiled, cleaning you off first.

“It sounds like you want to recreate that night.” You said, stepping closer to him.

“Maybe I do.” He said, placing the soap and washcloth in the caddy after you finished cleaning him off. “Come here.” he then whispered. You stepped closer to him and he picked you up.

“Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You leaned in to kiss him and it turned into a make-out session. Your legs curled around his body.

“You wanna get outta here?” Peter whispered.

“Mhm.”

“Okay.”

Peter turned off the water and stepped out, draping a towel around both of your bodies. He grabbed two robes and carried you back into the room. You got off of him and dried yourself off.

“Do you wanna wear one of my shirts? Or one of my boxers?

“I’ll wear both.” You said.

After the two of you finished getting dressed, you decided to cuddle with Peter in bed.

“Peter?”

“Hmm?” He asked, running a finger down your arm.

“You never did order room service, did ya?”

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu, @averyhotchner, @ssaic-jareau, @blackbeautifulqueen, @deiondraaa, @wandas-wife

[poetsofmyheart]

my tears ricochet

chapter one. masterlist.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WARNINGS: death, vomiting

WORD COUNT: 2,458

NOTES: i have so many ideas for this series i’m so excited. buuut idk how i feel about this chapter. hope u still enjoy tho lol

“all these people think love’s for show, but i would die for you in secret.” - peace, taylor swift

now

it’s still cold in new york this time of year. when i cross the street, i listen to the sounds the bustling city makes. the sound of horns honking and bell chimes reach my ears. during my walk to the cemetery, my fingers begin to feel numb. my mouth creating little clouds of white with every breath i take.

i’m carrying a bouquet of flowers i purchased from the sweet woman who owns the flower shop across from my apartment complex. i hold onto the bouquet tightly. my hands shake from the cold as i readjust the scarf on my neck.

as i walk, i see a flash of red and blue fly by in my peripheral. it’s been a long time since i’ve learned to ignore those flashes.

when i finally reach the cemetery, i look for gwen’s grave and sit on the grass across from her tombstone. i place the flowers by her neatly.

her full name is etched on the tombstone beautifully, along with the words “loving daughter” and her birth and death year underneath it.

the sight make my stomach clench.

“hey, gwen.” i shiver. “i hope you’re doing okay wherever you are.” no matter how many times i visit, i’m always unsure how to start talking.

i’ve been visiting gwen every saturday since her funeral. luckily, i’m alone today. it’s not uncommon for someone to already be here visiting.

“i’m doing okay. i’ve been better.” i reach for a flower petal on the bouquet i picked out for her. it’s a bouquet of daisies. the colors ranging from white, pink, and yellow.

i play with the petal until it’s rips in between my fingers. the shreds falling on to the grass in front of me.

“i’ve been learning the piano piece you begged me to learn for you. i was thinking about playing it for my audition next month.” i continue.

piano is one of my favorite things in the world. it’s my only source of escape. it’s an escape i’ve been busying myself with especially after gwen’s passing.

after graduation last year, i had planned on going to nyu to study music and piano. when gwen died, i had put everything on halt. i decided not to go to nyu after all. i had even passed up on an audition for my dream school, julliard.

before gwen passed, she had begged me to learn a song for her. a song she had been specifically obsessed with. the song was fantasie by chopin. she used to say the song was eccentric, yet calming.

i doubted my piano abilities at the time and had pushed the piece aside until i knew i was really ready. if only i had listened to gwen, maybe she would’ve gotten to hear it herself.

after a few weeks of grieving and being in a terrible slump, having no motivation to play at all, i decided it was time.

i picked up the notes i had discarded in my closet and put them up on my sheet stand and i let my fingers move delicately on their own.

it was hard at first, having not played for weeks. but i eventually got going. my fingers moved deliciously over and against the keys. i got lost in the music. the soft sound of the piano muting the world around me.

it was the best distraction.

this past summer, i was sent a letter from julliard. i had managed to get an audition when i graduated high school. they heard about what happened and decided to give me another audition thats set to take place next month.

“i wish you were here to hear it. i know how much you wanted to hear me play it.” my eyes begin to water. i hug my coat and scarf tighter to myself.

“julliard is giving me another chance and i’m going to play in honor of you.” a few tears fall down my cheeks.

i’m ripping another petal from the bouquet when i hear a voice come from behind me.

“y/n?”

i could recognize that voice anywhere. the voice of a stranger who had once been a friend.

i feel embarrassment arise in my chest. my cheeks blossoming into a shade of crimson, having been caught talking to a slab of stone.

i wipe the tears from my eyes and slowly turn around. my eyes meet the pair of soft, brown ones that belong to peter parker.

“peter?” my voice comes out almost like a whisper. if it weren’t for his heightened senses, he might’ve just barely missed it.

i haven’t seen peter since the night he came to my apartment to tell me the news about gwen.

that was over two years ago.

there never really was a reason as to why we never spoke again. maybe it’s because we really only ever hung out because of gwen, or when he needed to be patched up after a patrol.

not saying he wasn’t my friend. of course he was. but he’d only stick around because of gwen.

it stung.

after gwen’s death, the news about spider-man disappearing had come out. nobody had seen their neighborhood friendly spider-man for weeks. the crime rate in new york had gone up significantly and still, there was no sign of spider-man.

until once he did come back, he had become more violent. the spider-man we once knew had changed.

before the incident at the tower, spider-man wasn’t very known for having killed many people. not until after.

instead of leaving thieves webbed up to the wall like he used to, he would kill them. beat them to death with his bare hands. police no longer found webbed up bad guys. instead, they found dead bodies. no more leaving cute little notes or webbing up mouths shut. that was over.

eventually, spider-man had become the city’s number one enemy. the people of new york no longer felt safe around the masked vigilante. they now felt terror.

i couldn’t blame peter for using spider-man as an outlet. but it also hurt me to see him hurting. not just himself, but also others.

even after everything, i still didn’t have the courage to reach out to him.

because once upon a time, i was in love with peter parker.

i met peter in my sophomore year of high school. i’d see him skateboard from class to class. he’d photograph students for the school yearbook and he was a science nerd. a smart one at that.

so naturally, i had a crush on him. an innocent one at the time. it’s was a normal school girl crush.

i’d see him around but we never really spoke or even exchanged a glance towards each other.

not until gwen.

that same year, gwen met peter.

it was obvious peter was into her. and gwen was into him.

eventually, the three of us started hanging out together. gwen and peter got together and i had officially introduced myself to peter. he was sweet and caring and everything you’d ever want in a guy.

gwen was lucky.

but the more i got to know peter, the more i fell for him.

the first time i patched peter up and he had come to my place instead of gwen’s, i fully believed something happened between the two. maybe she was mad at him, or they’d broken up.

i hated that i had felt some sort of relief at the time.

the guilt gutted me from the inside out. i felt like i was betraying my best friend, stabbing her in the back.

i wanted gwen to be happy, and if peter made her happy, i had to accept he would never be mine. that he’d always be hers. and she’d always be his.

for for the rest of high school, i had to pretend to be happy around them. push my feelings aside so the feelings of others wouldn’t get hurt. i got hurt to make sure gwen was happy.

and in the end, she still ended up getting hurt.

after the night of gwen’s death. the night peter came to me over anyone else, the feelings i tried so hard to push aside came fluttering back. almost like they had never went away.

because they didn’t.

right now, as i look at peter, i can’t help but remember gwen.

see gwen.

he’s all i have left of her.

i can’t ruin it.

i stand up and dust off the dirt on my jeans. i look up at peter, who’s looking at me intently. while he stands there, i scan his outfit for a brief second. he looks the same. the same brown eyes and messy hair. his hair has grown a lot since graduation. he’s wearing a navy blue jacket and a pair of converse. typical peter parker stuff.

“wow.” he says, huffing out a soft laugh. “it’s been a while.”

“yeah.”

peter kicks a few small rocks on the ground, debris flying up. the rocks fall back on to the ground with a thud.

i’ve been trying to avoid this interaction for as long as i can remember. since the second he left my apartment that night.

i don’t know what to say, and neither does he.

“i was swinging by when i saw you walk in here. i thought i’d be nice to talk to you.”

nice?

yeah, right.

“look, peter.” i sigh. “i think it’s better if we don’t… y’know. do this.”

peter frowns. “do what?“

i gesture between us. “this. whatever this is. you don’t have to pretend to want to be my friend. gwen is gone. she won’t torment you if you don’t.” i begin to walk away, but a strong arm keeps me still.

“i’m not pretending.”

it’s quiet for a few moments before a look of realization washes over his face.

“you blame me, don’t you?”

i look down at my shoes.

of course i don’t blame peter.

i’ve never blamed peter for gwen’s death. although, if i’m being completely honest, i was angry at him for a while.

i know it wasn’t his fault. he wanted to save her. he tried to save her.

but that was back then. i was grieving. grief messes you up in ways nobody can describe.

but the only way to keep the feelings i have for him at bay, i have to act like i do.

pretend, pretend, pretend.

i’ve been doing it for long enough. i can handle a little while longer.

he shakes his head, a sign that i’ve hurt him.

“you could’ve told me.” i say, keeping up the facade. this act where i blame peter for the death of my best friend.

peter looks at me again. the sadness in his expression turning confused, but sour. “told you what?”

“that you were taking her out there. to the tower. i could’ve stopped her.”

his expression now becomes angry. “seriously? you think i took her out there on purpose?”

“then why didn’t you at least tell me she was out there? we both knew gwen. she was the most stubborn person on this fucking earth.”

the past tense seems to hit peter hard. “and what? let you die out there as well? there was no way out. if harry was after her, he would’ve been after you too.”

“harry?”

it’s been two whole years since my best friend died and i have yet to find out who murdered her. it was never revealed to the public. not even me. not even her family.

but it was revealed that the person who murdered gwen had apparently been caught.

apparently.

“harry osborn.”

i shake my head. “who the hell is harry osborn?”

“he was my best friend.”

a terrible realization dawns on me. not only did peter lose his girlfriend, but he also lost his best friend that night.

“your best friend killed gwen?”

i hadn’t expected to find this out today. i hadn’t expected to ever find out who killed gwen.

when peter doesn’t answer, my stomach twists and i begin to feel sick. faster than i can process, i run over to a tree and throw up behind it. my breakfast from this morning spilling all over the ground.

a hand coming from behind me pulls my hair away from my face, holding it in a messy ponytail. once i’m finished, i slump against the tree and hold my stomach. breathing in and out.

“are you okay?” peter asks softly. no matter how angry or upset peter might be at someone, he will always make sure they’re okay. no matter on their darkest days or his, he will always be there. it’s one of the things on my ever growing list of things i love about peter parker.

“i just wanna go home.” i avoid his gaze. “please.” tears well in my eyes, but i shake them away before he could see.

“i’ll walk you.”

the walk home is quiet. crickets chirp in the distance and the honking of car horns has gone down for the night. when we finally get close to my apartment, peter simply says, “he was never caught.”

“what?” i stop dead in my tracks and slowly turn to him. the sickness from earlier returns to my body and i use everything in me to hold it in.

“it was never true. they never caught harry. it was only said he was because they didn’t want the city to panic.”

anger floods my body. “why didn’t you tell me?” i huff out a bitter laugh before continuing. “actually, why didn’t you tell me anything? i’m one of the only two people on this planet who knows about your secret identity. well, technically now i’m the only person who knows about your identity.”

my voice is loud in the quiet night, but by the end, it slips into a whisper. “i was her best friend.” i get in his face as i say this. by now, tears are spilling down my cheeks so quickly i hadn’t even rendered i was crying. “don’t you think i have a right to know?”

peter turns away. “i didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“oh great plan, dumbass. i totally don’t seem hurt right now!” i say sarcastically. when my crying slows down, i turn to him and look him straight in the eyes. it almost scares me how close we are.

“were you ever going to tell me?”

peter is silent again.

“great.” i mumble. “goodnight, peter.” i turn on my heel and start walking up to my apartment. not glancing back even for a second.

as i’m walking up to the entrance of my apartment, i hear peter say, “i promise i’ll tell you everything.”

i don’t respond.

instead, i let the door slam shut.

*

next chapter

[timelord2024]

So, as I work on the new Spider-Man: Hero Academia 2 Chapter, I wanted to share some fun facts about the main antagonist, Infinity.

I actually went through a few different concepts for him, even as I started writing his intro scenes. Here are some of the original thoughts I had

He was always gonna be someone powered by the infinity stones. Originally, he was gonna be someone who only existed in the world Lumina created, then was erased after the world was fixed. He was nearby when the stones were destroyed, and their power infected him, helping him survive as the timeline was reset.

It ended up being a little too complicated and I couldn’t find a good reason why the stones fled to him, or why he was so close to them when they were destroyed.

Another idea was that he was a mutant with multiverse powers. S.H.I.E.L.D was keeping the mutant prisoner and experimenting on him, but he escapes and wants revenge.

It had promise but ultimately I decided against it.

Eventually I decided Infinity would be introduced in the void; a place where nonexistence can exist. The stones power would find their way there after being destroyed and he would absorb it.

I had a hard time coming up with a compelling reason why he was there at all. Banishment maybe? Random? I wanted it to tie into the story and overall world building.

The idea for making him the personification of the stones creates a connection to the first story, and reveals the consequences that come after the ending. It’s a nice bridging and allowed me to explore the stones in a concept I hadn’t seen before.

Writing him has been fun, and i love how he just simply wants to live. His motive isn’t complicated; he’s angry for being used and abused by everyone in his universe, having all their memories inside him. He’s just angry, an angry god of infinite power, struggling with who he is and all the memories trapped within him that aren’t his own.

What do you guys thing? Do you prefer the other possibilities, or are you happy with what I did? I’m excited to hear your thoughts! Even if you don’t like Infinity, that’s okay!

[backupanddoitagain]

Conversations With Peter Parker

Peter: Penny for your thoughts, Gwen?

Gwen: Pretty sure you don't have a penny, Peter.

Peter: What about a kiss for your thoughts then? I've been told I'm not a bad kisser.

Gwen: Okay, but I foresee a problem there.

Peter: ????

Gwen: Once you kiss me I can't think of anything but you.

Peter: And that is a problem how?

[specialfanficunit]

Day 23, Story 2 of #SVULoveInTheAir💕

Prompt #35: Dancing With A Stranger by Sam Smith

💃🏻🛗❤️

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45274834

and

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14202237