#the guy let himself hope the moment she came back from Pete’s world and said im never going to leave you

[dumbfilmschoolkid]

thinking about doomsday again… the man who notoriously goes out of his way to avoid goodbyes all his life, actively searched for months for a way to say goodbye to the woman he kept avoiding his feelings for, too afraid he’ll lose her. then he stood there as she cried her heart out for the longest two minutes of his life and kept a composed front for her while he too was crying behind his projection…..

[lonelyridesinecto-one]

A Date w/ The Right Guy

Egon Spengler • She/Her Pronouns • ANGST/SFW • GB!Reader (GB - Ghostbuster)

“What? Like…a date?”

“I’m confused if you’re more surprised that I asked you, or the general idea somebody asked you out” Peter smirks towering over Y/N propped against the door as she moved to lean against the other side of the frame.

“Fine Venkman. I’d love to”

“Great, tomorrow I’ll come get yea at 7?”

“I don’t live anywhere exciting yknow Pete” Y/N laughs slipping away from him as his gasp for a response only made her laugh more.

“You live here!” He yells and waited for her to leave the barn entirely before quickly running upstairs into the kitchen where the rest of the guys reside. “Okay guess who has a date with our quick learner Y/N”

“Egon?” Ray questions making Winston choke on his drink as Egon elbows him for exploiting that. But Peter clearly didn’t care nor waited for his own guessing game.

“This guy” Peter smirks proud of himself while pointing toward himself as Ray and Winston shared an exchange before turning to Egon for a response. But the doctor just ignored it for the moment. “Wow guys love the rousing support”

“We’ll it’s a date. A social construct between two adults that happen almost every day. And since we are in New York, there’s a lot of desperate people”

“Love to know I’m in that group”

The four quickly turned to the door showing Y/N entering the kitchen as she didn’t seem annoyed and or upset by the comment. She was a little desperate to be back in the dating world, she was just a bit upset that it’s Peter. She expected someone else to get their head out of their ass to ask her out.

“I’ll be in the lab if you need me for anything more” Y/N says after grabbing herself a cup of coffee and leaving the room.

Ray gave Egon a quick glance to find him embarrassed for saying such out loud. He didn’t think Y/N would come in or take it personally. Not that she didn’t entirely, but still. As Ray got up to go do something real quick, Peter took his seat and started to tell the two what he plans on doing which only infuriated Egon.

Y/N was checking the capacity and levels for the containment unit when Ray came into the lab.

“You’re stupid”

“Compared to the rest of you maybe. But my masters degree is still a masters. What did I do this time Ray?” She states as she logs down the information she collected.

“How would you agree to a date with Venkman when you like Spengs?”

“Did Spengler make the effort to ask me out?” Damn it Ray. “Peter wouldn’t be my first choice either, Ray. And I…I don’t want to prepare for the worse or go all out because I know how he is when a certain woman calls him during the day but I want to be taken out. Feel like somebody wants me. Just this once” Y/N frowns setting the clipboard down and trying her hardest not to cry in front of Ray but it happened anyway. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to pine over a guy that you’ve loved since university? And I don’t mean when we were professors, I’m talking when we were students—that met in that paranormal club you made. I…Ugh. It’s pointless to get worked up about it” she states wiping away her tears as she groans out of annoyance over herself.

“Y/N…I know Peter isn’t your first choice, but you’re like a sister to me. I don’t want the guy hurting you in any way”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t” Y/N got the last word in when the alarm went off for an urgent bust of course. “Welp. Duty calls”

———

Y/N trails behind Ray and Peter as they arrive to the library to handle whatever this man said he saw. She carried her camera close lighting up to see Egon as they snuck up behind his distracted self. Peter of course messing with him and slamming a book on the desk to startle the poor guy. Resulting in her smacking Venkman upside the head.

“Ow!”

“Shh!” Several people told Peter.

•

“Okay I’ve got a plan”

“Should you tell us or oh—“ Y/N slowly follows. “We’re just conducting”

Inching closer to the aberration, Ray being Ray suddenly yells “Get her!” Resulting in the you guessed it—the aberration scaring the four and without thinking or realizing, Egon pushed back instantly grabbing Y/N’s hand before booking it out of the library.

———

As the night rolls into the next day, Y/N having the only room to herself at the firehouse-sat across her vanity touching up her make up as she suddenly felt anxious. Peter is okay and all, not the type to push anything…more like make it seem like it was your decision. But she couldn’t stop thinking about how he is about a certain someone.

Then the phone started ringing, and Y/N quickly answered.

“Y/N speaking” Y/N picked up one of her few lipsticks before smiling. “Hi Dana, how are you?”

“I don’t understand what was wrong with that guy” Ray sighs stepping out of Ecto-1 covered in slime.

“I would’ve thought that from the countless times of you coming up with the “go get them” plan, that the probability of it happening again would be low.” Egon sighs taking his glasses off annoyed at the amount of slime that got on them. “So, Chinese?”

“Hmm. Yeah why not, let’s get this crap off first”

“I’ll take care of the trap, then clean up”

“Alright. The usual?” Ray questions as Egon nods while retrieving the trap from the back of Ecto.

As Egon headed down to the lab to clean out the trap, he spotted Y/N sitting on the couch reading one of her books. Thought she was going out with Venkman…He thought as he continued to stare into the back of her head before realizing what he came down there for.

“Evening, Y/N”

Y/N slowly turned around finding the doctor covered in slime as she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped from her.

“You look like you had fun, Spengler”

“I wouldn’t exactly say it was fun to be slimed on what’s supposed to be an easy job” He sighs putting the trap in the containment slot as Y/N set her book down along with the tea she had gotten earlier while getting ready, then rising from the couch heading toward Egon.

Egon waited for the light to change as he watches Y/N slowly approach him. She was gorgeous. Even if the little lady wore ankle black converse with her short red dress. He preferred her without make up like what he normally sees every day but god was she an artist with many talents.

“When is Peter coming to pick you up?”

“Mm. Unfortunately, Doctor, I was stood up for an old flame” She says as she gently removes his glasses to clean off the slime that stuck to them with a nearby towel. “He didn’t have the balls to tell me himself, instead…I received a call from a rather excited Dana but don’t tell her I told you that she admitted to being excited to see Venkman”

“I promise you I won’t…but wow. Aren’t I the lucky one to see you in what he was going to receive” Egon froze when Y/N rose on her tippy toes to gently return his glasses back to where they belong.

“If I thought about it a second time Egon, I would’ve thought you liked little ol’ me” She smiles and before she could even think of the next sentence is when Egon caresses her cheek causing her complexion to redden.

“You shouldn’t have to waste the time put into your look, just to hang around the firehouse. Give me a moment to get un-slimed and meet me by Ecto-1” Egon states not taking no for an answer as he goes to get cleaned up after pulling the empty trap out.

Y/N did what he said and waited against Ecto-1 for Egon when Ray came down with a grin on his face.

“What are you in on?”

“Hey! I didn’t know Egon was going to ask you. He told me about Peter and I’m sorry about it. But shortly after he told me what he did and trust me. The man is just as nervous as you are! Now if you’ll excuse me…spring rolls have my name on them” Ray leaves the firehouse to get his dinner and not shortly after, Egon came downstairs.

The man always looked good in a suit, but now feels different. Even if neither has established if this were a date yet. God she hopes it is.

“So…what’s on the agenda for tonight? Drinks?”

“You deserve much more than lousy drinks at a bar, I have a plan if you’re willing to let me take the lead”

“Of course, Dr. Spengler”

“Egon. Please…I love it when you call me Egon” The boldness made himself blush as Y/N hasn’t stopped since he told her he was taking her out.

———

“I’m studying quite a few things. Columbia is only adding to my doctorates” Egon tells Y/N as she walks on the edge of the fountain while he trails on the ground talking more about his studies.

“Do you think there’s such thing as ghost dogs? Cats!…Uhm. Fish?” Y/N questions as Egon laughs a bit shrugging to the question. “Mm. I think floating ghost fish would be a personal nightmare of mine”

“I believe that would be pretty rad, if they weren’t attacking one for revenge purposes” Egon states, finally sitting down as Y/N moves to the left side of him to sit. “The poor cats”

“What you think cats are their only enemy?”

“Would you like me to put in your head about a giant orca ghost coming? Or a blue whale”

“Nope. Nope! Shut up” She playfully pushes him to stop as Egon couldn’t help but laugh.

———

“Stop making fun of me! That bust was A NIGHTMARE!”

“At least your theory now exists. Quite surprising to see them chasing the poor lady’s house cat” Egon smiles, simply enjoying that laugh of hers. “Venkman could’ve done a better job at containment instead of letting you get surrounded by harmless phantom cichlids”

“Harmless is an understatement” Y/N sighs embarrassed to be terrified of ghost fish covering her face a second before resting her hand on the table, that Egon hesitantly tries to hold her hand.

The two sat for a moment in comfortable silence while conversation happened around them in the semi crowded. Then the smallest gesture of Y/N hooking her pinky with Egon’s. Nothing too crazy, but just enough to make them both comfortable.

“Do you…Uhm” Egon cleared his throat as the distress tried not to express itself with how nervous he was starting to get. His confidence was dying down but so was his anxiety when Y/N slowly but surely takes his hand into hers gently rubbing circles with her thumb.

“Hm?”

“Sorry, you make me nervous…a-and not in a bad way I must note that immediately but I’ve wanted this for the longest time and thought I lost my chances when Venkman asked you out” Egon admits as Y/N couldn’t help her face heat up to his words.

“I didn’t want Venkman asking me out to be honest with you…I was a little desperate and a bit of a fool of myself”

“Now why would you say that?”

“I should’ve just. Bucked up and asked you out myself instead of dealing with rejection of an asshole like Venkman” She frowns. “It’s not worth being upset over when what I’ve wanted since Colombia is happening right now”

“We both know Venkman is a wild card when it comes to his dating life. Of course it stings to be rejected overall, I was terrified of such. Have been since…well if we are admitting to things I believe it’s appropriate to also agree that I also had feelings for you since our Colombia days.”

“Guess everything is coming out in the open now isn’t it?” Y/N slowly brought back that smile of hers as Egon squeezes her hand gently before rising slightly and taking a chance to press his lips against hers.

Y/N didn’t pull away or have any signs of doing so. She brought her free hand to rest on his cheek as she continues to kiss the man she’s been wanting to kiss since forever. Egon parts from her for air as he brought his chair closer to her so he could lean into her a second time more comfortably. Soft and sweet was all he thought as he went in a second time as Y/N couldn’t help but say “Finally” as they parted once again.

“Well…Took us long enough”

“Certainly”

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Sparks pt.1

Quicksilver is my current obsession and I’ve been missing his content especially x-men content so I decided to create this fic! Hey y’all this is gonna be my first fic on this account so excited to share it with y’all Be sure to like, follow and comment to let me know what you think! (Full disclosure it’s been a while since I’ve watched the X-Men movies so some facts may be off. I am gonna try and rewatch them soon)

Word Count: 1214

Peter noticed that there were more people than usual gathered outside the school when he arrived. He had just come back from his house, going home for the weekend to restock on his supplies of various hostess snacks. There was a gym bag slung over his shoulder filled with them and a new walkman which just happened to end up in his bag when he was speeding through a convenience store. Totally not stealing.

  There seemed to be an event of some kind going on, he cocked his head to the side and took another bite of his twinkie, his fifth one in the last hour. There also seemed to be a lot of noise and faint music coming from the house. Maybe Charles finally decided to loosen up and let him have the summer party he’d been bugging him about for the last couple months. He took one last bit of this Twinkie before readjusting his goggles and zooming up the path that led to the school. Time slowed as he picked up speed, the bees that buzzed past seemed to move in slow motion, he smirked and sped up even more. 

He came to a stop a few meters away from the entrance of the school. Even as he stopped the world around him remained frozen, everyone stuck in their current positions, as he was free to roam. Peter looked around and saw a banner hanging from the archway of the school. It read, New Students Welcome. The writing was clearly Jubilee's and it was covered in glitter, as he passed underneath it some of it rained down on him. It was colored blue and yellow, horrible color choices in his opinion. So it was orientation day then, not his summer bash of the century, bummer. That didn't mean he couldn't have some fun messing with the newbies. Charles was sitting outside the school, hand extended greeting a new student. Peter ran up to the student and messed up his perfectly combed hair and flicked his finger against his chest every so slightly. He then proceeded to terrorize the rest of the newcomers, tying their shoelaces together or swapping their suitcases with one another. He even messed with some of the school's current students, stealing Scott’s sunglasses, moving Jean away from Scott and posing her and some new kid so it looked like they were making out. Placing a spider in Jubilee’s hair. He stood back and admired his handwork, planning on zooming away to his dorm before getting caught. But then he saw Kurt out of the corner of his eye. Of course this wouldn't be complete without messing with his favorite blue buddy. As he ran up to Kurt he noticed that he was talking to someone with a smile frozen on his features. That was rare, Peter slug his arm around Kurt and followed his eyes to see who was making him smile in that way. It was a girl with (y/h/l) (y/h/c) hair, she was wearing a Queen band shirt tucked into a pair of blue jean shorts. Her hair was blowing around her face, which was lit up in a brilliant smile, eyes squeezed shut as she laughed at something that Kurt had just said. 

Peter felt himself smile as he looked at you, maybe with you here this place wouldn't be as unbearable. A tinge of annoyance wiggled his way into his heart at the fact that you were laughing with Kurt instead of with him. He continued to stare at you until he realized the whole reason he had come over to you guys to begin with. He took out a sharpie he had pocketed from the convenience store, he popped the cap off with his teeth and twirled it for a moment before deciding what to do with it. He decided to doodle a mustache on Kurt’s upper lip. He then turned to you, marker still in hand. He looked at you for a moment more before deciding that he wasn't going to mess with you, at least for now. That was until he saw the yellow scrunchie on your wrist. Surely you wouldn’t notice if it went missing, and if you did he’d have a reason to talk to you. He slipped it off your arm holding your hand in his, taking a silent note of how well it fit in his own. He took the scrunchie and stuffed it into his pocket along with the Sharpie. He then made a move to dash away thinking about how he could dash back and make a grand entrance. One that would hopefully impress you. But fate had other plans as he moved to run. He tripped over Kurt’s tail and landed flat on his face. Time caught up with him and everything seemed to happen all at once. The new kid fell back on his butt, Jubilee screamed for someone to get the spider off her, Jean pushed away the kid that she had been set up with and Scott gritted his teeth in an annoyance. A loud collective shouting of Peter rang out.

Kurt poofed away in surprise and you let a little laugh out at his expense. Peter was sprawled out on the floor, hair a mess. He was cursing under his breath about Kurt and his stupid tail and how he was gonna chop it off one of these days. He made a move to try and get up before you noticed him but Kurt reappeared on top of Peter. Peter let out a groan in protest of the unwelcomed weight. Kurt’s voice joined the chorus of cursing Peter’s name. You looked at Kurt with an eyebrow raised and let out an airy laugh “Peter? Who’s Peter?” 

An annoyed look rested on Kurt’s face as he pointed down to the silver speedster still laying at your feet. You looked down to see Peter lying on the ground frozen as you locked eyes with him. He felt his face turn red and cleared his throat letting out a choked “Hi.” An octave too high. He then got up a record speed, knocking Kurt off him, pushing past the crowd and disappearing inside the school. He clutched his gym bag to his chest trying to calm himself down as he ripped into a Twinkie. His heart was beating incredibly fast and he could feel his face getting warmer by the second. He couldn't believe that he had made such a fool out of himself in front of you. He peered around the corner and saw you helping up Kurt with a smile on your face. Great, he had helped you guys get closer. 

You helped Kurt back to his feet as you picked up the snack cakes that had fallen out of Pete’s gym bag during his getaway. “Peter seems-”

Kurt cut you off, ‘Annoying.”

You let out a little snort. I was gonna say “interesting.”

“If you say so.” Kurt changed the subject and offered to carry in your bags. Your reluctantly gave him one and you both made your way into the school. Peter watched you two as you came in and promised that the next time you meant he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself.

I hope y’all enjoyed the first part! If it does well I’ll be updating it next Wednesday! In the meantime send me fic or headcannon requests to my inbox and I’ll reply as soon as I can!

[cattypatties]

Son of a glitch

⚠️ MAJOR SPOILER WARNING FOR SPACE JAM NEW LEGACY ⚠️

Al-G: blue, Lola: pink, Bugs: italics, Daffy: normal, LeBron: Green, Dom: purple

———————————

“That no good despicable son of a glitch!”

Daffy yelled, throwing his clipboard on the ground huffing angrily, as he felt his feathers stand up.

As the others watched him, Dom seemed to pause as a slow look of realization came upon his face. Before he looked at LeBron eagerly.

“Yo! That’s it, your move Dad!”

Cried out the young boy, as Daffy glanced over, raising a brow and for some reason felt something deep inside him grow. As a new feeling of anxiety took over and he tuned in.

“Remember? The step back glitch! In and out, crossover..”

LeBron’s face slowly lit up as he realized too and spoke with Dom.

“Step back, shoot.”

They finished as Dom grinned a tiny bit, before he continued

“That move froze my whole game!”

“And that’s good because?” LeBron asked curiously

“If the game crashes, AL-G won’t be able to control it anymore..”

And in that moment the Duck felt that sinking feeling grow as he glanced over to see Lola pipe in.

“And if he can’t control it, he can’t stop us from scoring!”

And as everyone seemed to start getting their hopes up, they started cheering, all except for Dom whose face turned from relief to quiet terror.

“Wait..that’s not going to work.”

“Why not?”

“When my character did the Step Back, it got… deleted.”

And as it sunk in more Daffy felt his eyes flick about nervously before asking hesitantly

“S-So..whoever does the glitch move..?”

He pulled at his tie, feeling his whole body go cold.

“Will get deleted.”

Finished Dom, as he looked down. Daffy looked away as he felt the anxiety finally suffocate him in the dark as his breathing faltered, from then on most of the others voices became blurs, as meaningless suggestions were brought up.

One after another, after another.

Because here’s the thing.

Daffy never meant to leave Bugs behind for the amazing new worlds Al-g offered him, in fact he thought for sure Bugs would come with them, but when he didn’t and days became weeks, and weeks became years, he had lost hope of ever seeing Bugs again. He had lost hope of seeing a lot of people again.

He hadn’t meant to be..selfish. To just, blast away into the Server-Verse far away from everyone. But he was sick of the same old routine and when Al-g came by Daffy was at a low point. He was sick of always being in Bugs’ shadow. He was sick of always being…forgotten. He wanted to be something more, do something more.

And so at the time it seemed like a perfect opportunity to become a hero.

He had always wanted that after all…

It’s just…

….It’s funny how quickly it turned into a living nightmare without Bugs there.

The countless nights he spent awake staring up at the sky, wondering if Bugs was looking back from their home, wondering if Bugs even remembered him.

He knew for a fact that he sure did.

After all, Bugs was the love of his life despite how odd it was, knowing that he wasn’t meant to have these feelings, perhaps it was a minor error in his system?

Well..that was in the past anyway…

Now? Now, he wished he never even listened to Al-g.

However, there was no use in dwelling over it for too long. So as the Duck snapped out of his thoughts he watched LeBron state he wanted to do the Step Back.

And of course he gasped because, wasn’t the whole point to get back to his son and live a normal life? Just win and save everyone without getting hurt?

And for a moment he paused and glanced over to Bugs seeing his expressions shift, before LeBron brought in their hands together, Daffy feeling everything within him freeze up.

“Tune squad on 3!”

“1, 2, 3!”

So, as LeBron started walking out onto the court everyone got into position, Al-g standing right in front of LeBron as he grinned, chuckling quietly and leaning in for only LeBron to hear.

“Yeah this is fun huh?”

“We can just do it again and again and again.”

“Over and over and over for all eternity…How’s that sound?”

LeBron only kept silent watching him, before the announcers spoke, the cheers around everyone growing louder, the tension thick.

Before Lola caught the ball getting ready to pass it, as Bugs mainly eyed it, swallowing.

And all at once it happened as Pete blew the whistle, LeBron and Al-G blocking each other off, in a scramble to get the ball, as Lola passed it over only for Bugs to jump in the way as he ran off towards the opponent's side of the court, shaking.

Daffy stared wide eyed knowing fully well what Bugs was doing before he himself yanked off his jacket and pulled up his sleeves and booked it over leaving behind his clipboard as he tackled Bugs and grabbed the ball from him rolling off.

Bugs falling hard as he rubbed his head and bounced back up and turned to Daffy confused and scared

“Daffy?! What are you doing?!”

He shouted panicking his whiskers tangling as he chased after the little black Duck, before Lola tackled him from behind

“Bugs don’t you dare!” She shouted pinning him down from behind as Bugs squirmed and kicked desperately

“Lola let go of me! He’s in danger! He’s gonna get himself killed!”

He shouted louder, trying so hard desperately as he glanced up and caught eyes with Daffy who grinned at him weakly before he got into position.

And seemingly when he did the world froze.

“In and out..”

The Duck said dribbling as he sweat keeping his hands as steady as he could

“DAFFY!”

Bugs' voice cried out desperately, the rabbit kicking more, as a few more toons jumped on him trying to keep him down, Bugs eyes filling with tears as he reached desperately for his friend.

“Crossover..S-Stepback..”

He continued, feeling the adrenaline surge inside as he swallowed. Heart racing as his hands became cold. Daffy knew fully well this would be it, the end as he glanced one more time at Bugs who still despite his position kept trying to reach.

“See you on the other side pal.”

He whispered, as Bugs eyes widened more and he shook his head frantically before Daffy jumped in the air

“Shoot.”

The glitch move, complete as LeBron ran after the ball, heart racing as he and Al-G jumped up in the air, the two racing for it as Dom chased after them.

LeBron jumped up to dunk the ball, as he grabbed it, before Dom raced and grabbed the last power up and tossed it like a frisbee giving his dad the boost he needed to score the final point.

The final dunk made as everyone was sent home, the audience cheering loudly, as the toons turned back, before Lola and the others couldn’t hold Bugs back any longer as he sprinted over to Daffy, sliding on his knees as the Duck fell right into his arms Bugs’ ears drooping as he stared at him horrified

“No, no, no, no, no!”

He whispered eyes tearing up as he pulled him closer

“D-Doc, what did you do?”

He asked shaking slightly, before feeling movement as Daffy opened his eyes and looked up at him and grinned chuckling very weakly

“C-couldn’t let you get all the attention rabbit..”

Daffy whispered, shrugging, as the others came over and surrounded them. LeBron and Dom joined as Bugs looked up at him and he looked back. The two gave a silent nod before Daffy spoke up again.

“You better be the best father you can be once you’re gone.”

Daffy remarked teasingly as the basketball player nodded quietly

“Thank you guys..”

He said quietly before he and Dom disappeared, the world around them going back to normal as everyone watched happily before Daffy glitched and they turned back worriedly. Bugs gripping onto him tighter

“Don’t go..please.”

He whispered looking at Daffy shaking, as his eyes filled with even more tears. Daffy watches him silently before smiling up at him softly.

“Bugsth..”

He glitched again as everyone got closer, quietly.

“I’m sorry..”

He said as he leaned up and pecked Bugs on the cheek gently before he closed his eyes and he faded into a bright light, disappearing.

Bugs still kneeling there quietly, arms shaking as his hands clenched into tight fists and he fell forward and sobbed, shaking violently with each breath he took. Every moment he had, and every memory he shared. The silence absolutely killed him.

Because he had failed.

And now..Daffy was gone.

And the world felt even darker than before.

And much, much colder.

———————————————————————————-

@maki-matsurra

Thank you for the very concept along with a few others! :3

[hangovercurse]

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete about ix

Pete finds out about you and Colson

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, slut-shaming, sibling fighting

A/N: It’s done! Thank you all for reading this far, hope it’s lived up to expectations.

A/N 2: This is modeled after the (many) fights I’ve had with my siblings 😊

Word Count: 2277

| i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii | viii |  

“Just promise me that we tell him soon, okay?”

2 months later

Things had been going steadily with Colson since that first night he spent in your apartment. You’d honestly never felt happier in a relationship, except for the nagging fact that you still hadn’t told Pete. Every time Colson would ask about it, you’d feed him the same line, “I’m just not ready to handle that yet.”

You could tell he was tired of the sneaking around and the same old excuse, but you truthfully weren’t sure what the outcome would be. If Pete was going to be mad at you, you might as well enjoy what you had until then.

And were you enjoying it. You and Colson both had to admit that sneaking around everyone was thrilling. A few weeks into your relationship, he’d brought you on set of one of his music videos to “show you the process.” The process, it turns out, was hooking up in a side room while the crew was on lunch break.

You knew it would be so much better if you could be honest about your relationship. If you could go out on dates publicly or post the cute pictures you take of him on your Instagram, or literally anything a normal couple could do. But for now, you were happy.

Last night, Colson had come over with takeout and a bottle of champagne, setting up a picnic on the floor of your living room. You talked and kissed while different movies played in the background, the bubbly starting to get to your head. You almost let three very important words slip out, but somewhere deep in your brain, common sense still lingered.

You knew you loved him, but you didn’t want to pressure him into saying anything he wasn’t ready for. You wanted him to take the first step. So, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you let the night carry into morning, waking up to a loud knock on your door.

There was no part of you that was about to get up and open the door, so you just snuggled further into Colson and closed your eyes. But then, the lock clicked and the handle squeaked through the small apartment.

Your entire body was immediately on high alert, shaking Colson to wake him up. His tired eyes opened, finding you and shifting to immediate confusion. He opened his mouth to say something before he was interrupted by the voice of the intruder,

“Hey Y/N, mom wanted me to pick up the-“ The door of your bedroom opened, revealing a stunned Pete. His eyes shifted from you to Colson, and then back to you. He let out a scoff, shaking his head and leaving the room.

You sighed, jumping out of bed and throwing on the closest shirt, that just so happened to belong to Colson. “Pete!” You ran out of the room, grabbing onto his arm and stopping him from leaving, “please jus-“

“You are the most manipulative bitch I have ever met, and I’ve met a lot.” His voice was dark, furious. Your mind was running a mile a minute to figure out how to explain everything. “I asked you for one simple thing, and you can’t even fucking do that?”

Tears began to flood behind your eyes, panic taking over your body. You were already on edge from the earlier fear of someone being in your house, and you were incredibly tired. So combined with Pete yelling at you, even if you did deserve it, it was enough to send you into a spiral of negative thoughts and anger. “If you would act fucking rational when I tried to talk to you about it, maybe you would know that it wasn’t so simple!”

Pete chuckled, “right, sorry. I forgot that you’re a slut who can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”

His words hit you like a thousand punches, so much so that you physically took a step backwards. He took no notice, continuing to pour all his anger out on you. “And you’re a fucking liar. How long have you been whoring around with him? Because if I were to guess, it’d be a couple months by now, right?”

Colson, who was standing by the door to your room, not quite sure what to do with himself, spoke up, “Pete, st-“

“How many of my other friends have you been fucking?” Pete ignored his friend, eyes still seeing red and focusing on you. “I mean, seriously, what is this? Did I do something wrong? Did you want to hurt me? Is this you getting back at me for something, by fucking around with my friends?”

Tears were falling freely from your eyes, embarrassment and hurt coursing through your veins. “You always make everything about you, Pete. You never fucking consider anyone else except your goddamn self.”

You shoved his chest harshly, turning and walking towards your bedroom. You pushed past Colson, who tried to comfort you, slamming the door behind you. You sat on the bed and let everything weigh down on you, Pete’s words ringing in your ears. Part of you was angry with him, telling you that he was in the wrong. But another part of you was angry at yourself for not being a good sister.

Outside the door, Pete had turned his anger towards Colson. “Get out.” Your boyfriend had tried to talk reason with Pete, but your brother was having none of it. “You are not my fucking friend, okay? Not anymore.”

“Pete, you’re being ridiculous, ju-“

“I’m not being fucking ridiculous!” Pete yelled, “that’s my fucking sister. You could fuck anyone else in the goddamn world and you chose to fuck my little sister? That’s fucked, dude.”

Colson was overcome by the urge to defend your relationship, “I fucking love her, Pete. Okay? Goddamn.” For the first time since Pete walked out of your room, he was quiet. “Do you think I would risk my entire relationship with you for some fuck? Do you think she would?”

He didn’t wait for a response, instead turning and walking into your room. The sight of you curled up, knees to your chest, made Colson’s heart break. He climbed on the bed behind you, back to the headboard, and pulled you into his lap. He could feel your body shake with every sob, so he just held you tightly in his arms.

When he could feel you physically start to calm down, he whispered gently, “I love you.”

You’d always hoped whenever you heard those words from him, you’d feel relieved, knowing your relationship was as real to him as it was to you. But right now you were only filled with dread. You didn’t want him to love you, because it made everything seem so much worse. How had you let it get this far?

Before you could respond, Colson continued, “I love you, but I can’t stay with you.” You leaned further into his chest, staring blankly ahead of you. “I want you to be happy, and you won’t be if you lose Pete.”

Your lip quivered as you whispered out, “I love you too.”

Colson sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before moving to climb out of the bed. Tears blurred your vision as you watched him walk out of the room. Him leaving only made you fall even more in love with him, which hurt like a bitch.

When Colson came into view of Pete, the younger man studied him, but not in anger. “Did you really mean that?”

Colson sighed, “that I love her? Yeah, I do.” Pete was sat on the couch, rubbing his hands over his face to try and calm himself down. “But I’m not about to let you ruin your relationship with her over me. So, if you want me gone, I’m gone.”

Pete was silent for a few moments, and Colson could feel his own heartbeat slowing down, the thought of losing you for good finally hitting him. “How long?”

The older man sat on the other side of the couch, elbows on his knees, “It’s complicated. I asked her out the day after we met but then I broke it off like a week later when you guys got in that fight about it.” Pete nodded to confirm he remembered, “then we tried the whole “friends” thing for like a month, but it obviously didn’t work. Then two months later, here we are.”

Pete was staring blankly at the black TV screen in front of him, absorbing the blonde’s words. “Why didn’t you guys just tell me?” Pete’s voice was weak, guilt and regret slowly sinking into his system.

Colson hung his head, “because she wanted to put this off as long as possible, I think. I tried to get her to talk to you about it but she wasn’t ready. I don’t think I was either, truthfully. I figured once you knew, if it were as bad as she thought it would be, I would lose her.”

“You would really leave if it meant keeping her and me from fighting?” Colson could feel his heart stop at Pete’s words, the expected heartbreak on the horizon.

“If it meant she was happy, yeah.”

Pete rested his head in his hands, sighing deeply, “I’m an asshole.”

This took Colson by surprise, as it was not the response he was expecting. He thought he’d be thrown out immediately. “What do you mean?”

“We have this rule that we don’t fuck each other’s friends because then someone gets hurt and one of us would probably lose a friend. So, I flipped out when she brought it up because I really didn’t want to be put in that situation.” Pete paused, looking up to his friend, “But obviously you’re serious about her and you make her happy.”

Colson replied sincerely, “you know I’m never gonna hurt her, right?”

“I’ll kill you if you do, best friend or not.”

“That’s fair.”

The two men sat in silence for a while before they broke out into laughter, Pete reaching over to shove Colson’s shoulder, “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

Colson nodded, laughing it off, “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

Pete knocked on your door lightly, not waiting for a response before slowly walking in. You hadn’t moved since Colson left; your eyes still blankly focused on the wall in front of you. He sat down beside you and pulled you into his side, head resting on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean any of that,” his voice was hushed but sincere. “I was hurt and confused and I said things in the moment that I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “you don’t have to apologize. I deserved it.” When you spoke, your voice was flat, void of all emotion. Just how you felt.

Pete sighed, “no, you didn’t. You tried to talk to me about it months ago and I blew up on you. I can’t blame you for not telling me.”

“It’s fine Pete, it’s over anyways.” You wanted to scream at yourself for falling too easily and at him for making assumptions, but you couldn’t find the strength. “It was more than just sex though, Pete.”

“I know, I was being an asshole.” He squeezed you closer into his side, “I should’ve realized you wouldn’t hook up with one of my friends unless it was serious.”

You whispered, “I didn’t mean for it to get this far.” Your voice was strained, “I wanted to tell you but I knew when you found out that you’d get mad and then something like this would happen. But I really fucking liked him, I just wanted to hold onto it while I could.”

“I was mad. Dude, I was pissed when I walked in.” Pete could feel you tense up at his words, “but you’re my sister and he’s my best friend. I just want you guys to be happy. And I might not like it, but he makes you happy.”

You sighed in relief, “you know I would never try to hurt you, right? Like I didn’t do this to make you mad or put you in a weird spot. It just kind of happened.”

Pete chuckled, “yeah, I know. And I’m sorry for saying all that shit. I was mad, you know how I get.”

You rolled your eyes, “you mean I know that you’re crazy? Yes, I am very aware.”

He shoved your shoulder lightly, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence for a moment before he broke it. “If you two make me third wheel, I swear I’ll kill you both.”

“Have you two met yourselves? I feel like I’m third wheeling you guys when we all hang out,” you giggled, climbing out of the bed. “I think you owe me sushi now.”

Pete gave you a very confused expression, “you snuck around with my best friend behind my back. If anything, you ow me sushi.”

“You called me a slut and a bitch. And you embarrassed me in front of my boyfriend.” You said matter-of-factly, a small smile on your face to let Pete know you’d already started to get over it.

He rolled his eyes, getting up and moving to the living room, “that just makes us even.”

“I’m suing you for emotional damages.” You joked as you followed him, sitting on the couch next to Colson, leaning into him, “the court has determined you owe me sushi.”

Colson looked between you both, confused, “so, you two are good now?” Pete and you nodded, smiling. “Siblings are fuckin’ weird, man.”

Tag list @corpse-babe @sesamepancakes

[marvelsbetch]

Peter Parker’s parent teacher conference

Warnings: IronStrange, Supremefamily, bullied Peter, dick head teachers, anxious Peter and homophobia.

-Peter POV-

"Hey Bambi, why didn't you tell us about your parent-teacher conference tomorrow night?" Pops asked sitting next to me on the living room couch.

"I didn't think you would've wanted to go? Dads not the one for school or teachers and you're -well- you." I explained tentatively.

"I'll take that as a compliment. Just so you know, we'll be there for around 5 so just after your decathlon meeting. It'll just be me and your dad so no need to be embarrassed." Pops told me.

"Thanks. This'll be the first parent-teacher conference I would've ever been to." I told him.

"Same kid. It's a first time experience for us all." Pops smiled at me.

"Not many times that happens." I commented resting my head on his shoulder.

"No it's not Bambi, no it's not." He smiled putting his head on mine.

-Next day at 5 o'clock-

"Hey Penis, what're you still doing here? This is a thing for kids with parents." Flash taunted walked passed me in the gymnasium as I waited for my dads.

"Shut up Flash, you know nothing about my family." I told him.

"You better watch your tone Parker or you'll have another black eye." Flash threatened getting really close to me.

"If you would be so kind as to step away from my kid, it would he greatly appreciated." Pops' voice spoke from next to me. They must've just arrived.

"Oh my God! It's Stephen Strange! And Tony Stark!" Flash all but yelled making the whole room fall silent.

"It's Stephen Stark actually. I didn't spend thousands on a wedding for people to not recognise my changed last name." Pops corrected.

"I'm so sorry. I'm such a fan of both of your works." Flash blabbered composing himself.

"Eugene! We've been looking everywhere for you!" A man, who I presume is Flash's father, scolded walking up to us with a woman trailing behind.

"Sorry father but look who I found. The Starks." Flash excitedly announced.

At this point I slowly slipped away from him and walked up to my Dad who gladly greeted me with a hug. I could feel the warmth of the arc reactor on my chest and it gave a strange comfort. After a few moments we let go but I didn't move very far, being so close to Flash made me really anxious.

"Underoos you okay?" Dad asked me worriedly trying to look into my eyes.

"Yeah I'm fine, just tired. I was up late finishing a piece of homework last night." I lied hoping Pops wouldn't say anything as I fell asleep on him last night.

"Wow Mister Stark. I must say I'm a big fan of your work. If you haven't noticed I try to style myself off of you." Flash's father said showing off his black tailored suit and aviator sunglasses and reached out for a handshake.

"I'm flattered but I don't do handshakes. I'm not the biggest fan of touching." Dad told him trying to give a convincing smile.

"Then why've you got an arm around Pen-Peter?" Flash asked making both my Dads give him the 'Bitch WTF' look. I hate that look. Dad was about to say something but I decided to cut in.

"So, why don't we do what you came here to do and speak to my teachers? Sounds great, let's go." I spoke grabbing Pops' hand and dragging him and Dad to one of my teachers.

"Who was he?" Dad asked in a demanding tone.

"Nobody important. Look Mr. Harrington's free. Let's go and talk to him." I rushed and pulled my dads towards Mr. Harrington's table.

"Ah, Peter and Mr. and Mr. Stark. Lovely to meet you, I love all you've done for the world." Mr Harrington spoke as we took our seats.

"Thank you Mr. Harrington." Pops said.

"No problem. So, I teach Peter Physics and I've got no problems. The only thing I would say is that he is often on his phone during lesson and doesn't listen that much. However with that being said, he's never got below an A+ on his tests. You should be proud of him." Mr. Harrington smiled.

"We are. Is that all?" Dad said ruffling my hair slightly.

"That's all thanks." Mr. Harrington announced and shook Pops' hand before we walked away.

"That was a really good report but who're you texting during class? It better not be one of the others or your dad." Pops asked and gave Dad a pointed look.

"No it's this guy I met online. His names Harley Keener and he seems really nice." I explained as I lead them to my history teacher.

"Harley Keener?" Dad asked shocked.

"Yeah. Why? Do you know him?" I questioned.

"Sorta. I'll explain when we get home." Dad dismisses before turning around to face my history teacher Mrs. Keens.

"Wow, this is a shock. It's not everyday the Starks turn up to a parent-teacher conference. How are you both?" She rushed out slightly flustered.

"We're doing fine thank you. How is Peter in this subject?" Pops asked, straight to the point as always.

"Peter is amazing, always hands his homework in on time, always listens in lesson and has never received less than an A on a test. You should be proud of him." She informed smiling at me.

"Wow, our little goody-two-shoes." Dad teased ruffling my hair slightly.

"One thing that you may or may not be aware of is a boy called Eugene Thomson. He seems to be bullying Peter for whatever reason, I've caught him a few times throwing paper balls at Peter or sliding him malicious notes. I'm not sure if it's friendly or not but I felt you should know. Thank you." Mrs. Keens informed, may the ground swallow me up now.

"We will also discuss this later on." Pops told me sternly, oh no.

We left Mrs. Keens with a slight wave and headed back to the main area to find another teacher. My eyes landed on my English teacher who didn't seem very happy, this is not going to end well.

"Oh look, it's your English teacher." Dad commented and pointed to Mr. Malory. Fuuuuuuuuck.

"How do you know my English teacher?" I asked worriedly.

"Research department, making sure my son has the best education he can. Let's go to him now while he's free." Dad brushed off and started to walk towards him. God save me.

My English teacher hates me for no reason, always turns a blind eye to Flash, always nitpicks my assignments and finds any reason to not give me a good grade. He's also quite homophobic and has expressed on many occasions his hatred for my Dads and anything to do with them. He even leads a group called the 'Freedom from Starks'. This is so not ending well.

"Peter, didn't expect to see you here." Mr. Malory commented not looking up from his clip board.

"Well, this is a parent-teacher conference and I, as his parent, would like to speak to my sons teacher about his school work. If you'd be so kind." Dad said, his words oozing sarcasm and sass. He really did his research.

Mr. Malory picked his head up and stared Dad dead in the face. The distaste clearly shown on both faces as the three of us took our seats, Pops took Dad's hand, probably as a way to calm him down. This is worse than I thought.

"Well, if I'm being honest, Peter is the worse student I've ever taught. He's disruptive in lessons, throws paper at a wonderful student called Flash Thompson, slides Flash malicious notes and seems to find any excuse to blame Flash. His work is simply upgradable and I couldn't thing on a bigger lost cause than your son. Any questions?" Mr. Malory spoke and Dads face got redder and redder with anger.

"Really, then why did the last teacher we speak to say it was the other way around, that 'Flash' was the one throwing paper and passing notes?" Dad questioned leaning forward in his seat.

"Look, I don't know what happens in other lessons and quite frankly, I don't care. All I know is Peter is a major distraction and it's bordering bulling with Flash." Mr. Malory told us.

"What about his work is so upgradable? Is it his handwriting or the content of what he's writing?" Pops asked placing his other hand on top of Dads. This is getting serious.

"The content. The ludicrous stories of the Norse Gods and his 'adventures' with them are beyond reason. His stories are beyond the realm of possibility and are just ludicrous." Mr. Malory told them.

"His stories about the Norse Gods, does this involve Thor putting his hammer in inconvient places or Loki and black widow being kind and caring to others?" Das asked.

"Yes." Was Mr. Malory's short response.

"Well, it is within the realm of possibility as it happens. Every single day at the compound or sanctum." Pops spit out trying to keep calm.

"Oh well, maybe he should learn to be more creative with his stories." Mr. Malory spoke silently challenging Pops.

"Thanks sir." I hastily said before dragging both my dads out of their seats and walking off.

"No Pete, I would like to hear more about how much of a bad student you are." Dad argued challenging Mr Mallory.

"And I will be glad to provide. Mr Park-"

"Stark." Dad deadpans.

"Mr Stark is highly disruptive not only to Mr Thomson but is also always on his phone, sleeping in class or just straight up not listening. Honestly, his behaviour is a reflection as to why you people shouldn't be allowed to have kids, you simply don't know how to raise them." Mr Mallory continued to explain. Dad went red.

"What do you mean by you people?" Pops asked scarily calm as be placed a hand on Dad's knee to soothe him slightly.

"Gays. You shouldn't be allowed children because there's not a mother to properly raise them, I never had these issues when Peter lived with May. I honestly think it would be in his best interest to place him back in her care."

Oh my god. He knows May is dead. He knows that I can't be 'placed back in her care' and It was the same when I did live with her, nothing changed.

We were all stunned into silence, including some of the surrounding parents and teachers who were stunned. Well, we were silent until Dad blew up at him.

"How dare you," he began, "I take as good care of my son as any other parent here does, I give him as much as I can and do everything I can to be a good parent to him. If he's sleeping in your classes or being distracted then maybe you should make your lessons more interesting and not be blind sighted by your homophobic, bigoted and downright dickish beliefs. Your head may be crammed so far up your ass you can smell your lungs but maybe once join us in the real world and see that just because people are different doesn't mean they're not as capable. I will be putting in a formal complaint and if I were you, I'd start looking for new places of employment seeing as I am one of the biggest donators to this school. Come on Pete, we're going home."

Dad then grabbed Pops' hand and my arm before storming out of the building towards the car. You could see the steam coming out of his ears as Pops tried in a desperate attempt to calm him down.

I think I can safely say that this night was a disaster.

[buckysbabygorl]

By Her Side (Peter Parker Fanfic)

Authors Note: This was made by request of @lunarunreal I hope I you enjoy the fic; and I intend no offense if I misrepresented the situation. I wish you the best on your journey; stay strong ❤️

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warnings: mention of hospital, cancer, chemo therapy symptoms, angst, hospitals

Summary: Y/N is undergoing treatment for cancer. While struggling to persevere, Peter stays by her side and encourages her. This was made by request of @lunarunreal​ I hope I you enjoy the fic; and I intend no offense if I misrepresented the situation. I wish you the best on your journey; stay strong ❤️ thank you to @babyblue-07​ for the creative help! Check out her page @babybluereads​ for fic recommendations! https://buckysbabygorl.tumblr.com/post/642078062396227584/hi-i-have-lymphoma-and-have-been-receiving

Word Count: 2,078

Today, just really, really fucking sucked.

Y/N laid in her bed, waiting for everyone to come back. Her parents had stepped out to the cafeteria with May; they’d missed lunch on account of the procedure, they wanted to make sure Y/N was feeling alright before they did anything else.

“I’m fine,” she said, “Go get something. I’ll be good for a bit.”

Hesitantly, they’d parted.

Her parents had been hovering, which she’d appreciated but sometimes it was all a little too much. Too overwhelming.

She didn’t know what she wanted anymore; when she had been diagnosed… it hadn’t been easy. Obviously.

It was tough on her mind, tough on her body. She was tired all of the time, she felt sick, she felt pain…

She didn’t know if having everyone around made her feel better or worse sometimes.

So right now she needed a second alone, just a moment to think.

A knock came on her door, and she looked up from her book.

“Hey,” she said, a soft smile on her lips.

Peter stood in the doorway, knuckle still pressed to the trim of the door frame. A half smile reflected hers, and he shuffled in.

“Hey, how’d it go?”

She sighed, “Fine, well as could be expected.”

He nodded, pulling the visitor’s chair up beside her bed, getting comfy as if it were his own home. That’s one of the things Y/N loved about Peter; he always felt like home.

They had always been close, growing up in the same apartment building for years, going to the same school. When Y/N’s parents were out and May and Ben used to babysit; and when the roles were reversed, of course her family would provide the same courtesy to Peter. After a while it was like they were family, and the two quickly became inseparable. They did everything together, and they were there through everything too. When Ben passed away, Y/N and her family made sure the Parker’s felt cared for and supported. And when Y/N was diagnosed, there was no doubt that the Parkers would be right there beside her. Especially Peter.

He was her best friend; he was her rock.

Yes she wanted to be alone; but the only exception for that was him.

Peter didn’t feel like another expectation to meet; another task to fulfill; one more thing she had to worry about… no.

Peter was easy; he was comfortable. Safety, home…

Sick… very sick.

“Oh shit,” She muttered, covering her mouth. Peter reacted immediately, grabbing the waste basket from beside the bed as she lurched forward. He caught her throw up just in time, and as she continued to retch into the bin he rubbed small circles on her back. He wanted to do more; but this was all he could manage. Reassurance, and being there when she needed it.

Puking or otherwise.

She sat back slowly, the action taking more energy out of her than she thought it would. He wiped a few stray hairs from her forehead, matted with sweat. He ran his thumb underneath her eye; she looked tired.

He wanted to make it go away; make it easier if he could. But he settled for caresses and smiles, it seemed to make her happier.

“Pete, can you grab the nurse for me?”

“Yeah of course.”

His hand dropped as he quickly scurried out; he waved down a nurse in the hall and smiled sadly as she stepped in. The door closed behind her, and Peter found himself leaning back against it. A long sigh escaping his lips; he surprised himself when he nearly found himself crying.

God, get a grip.

Nothing had happened but it felt like everything. He was frustrated; he hated that they couldn’t sit at the Thai restaurant like they used to, they didn’t beg the librarian to keep the place open for just a little bit longer. He wanted her to be healthy and happy; he wanted his Y/N back.

This thought almost made him cry more; she still was his Y/N, she was still her in every way. That beautiful, bright and strong woman he’d grown up with. He just knew this was hard for her, of course it was. And even though she was still that incredible woman; he knew she was losing hope.

He ran his hands through his hair, glancing around the hallway for an empty chair to wait in.

Alright, you know the side effects are hard. But she’s okay, she’ll be okay. Just let her rest, give her some space.

He plopped himself in his chair as a voice called for him.

“Hey kid.”

Peter turned his head to see Happy coming in his direction; snapping shut a flip cell phone.

Most people carried around normal phones, but Happy insisted on the dated technology for personal life calls and whatnot. Then again, expecting Happy to do something normal wasn’t really rational.

“Happy, what are you doing here?”

“I was around; wanted to stop by and check in.”

He nodded towards the closed door of Y/N’s designated room; “How’s she doing?”

Peter huffed, shaking his head.

“Today’s not really a good day; I think she just needs some rest.”

Happy nodded; it was to be expected. Not every day went by smoothly, but they had to take these bumps in the road to get Y/N back to the right place.

He didn’t really know what to say; he wasn’t always the best at reassurance. When it came to superheroes saving the world; sure. He could give them a quick jab, a motivating speech, get Tony’s or Peter’s head screwed on tight and send them back to the battlefield. But this wasn’t that; this was a scared kid with his best friend, and an uncertain future.

“Well, let me know if you need anything. I’m going to do everything I can to help; I’m here for you both.”

“Thank you, Happy”

He knew that something else was weighing on Peter; it was the drop in his shoulders, the tense biting of his inner cheek. Eyes somewhere else; yet nowhere.

May and Happy talked, of course. They’d been dating for quite sometime now; he had become her confidant and she, his. Happy knew how the kid felt for Y/N, they all did. It was no secret how they teased one another; how they kept to themselves; how they made sure to put time in their lives for one another.

May was worried; Peter had been wanting to say something for such a long time, she knew it. But now… she didn’t think he ever would.

“He probably thinks it’s selfish, knowing him. He never wants to…” she said to Happy, rubbing her hands nervously, “He never wants to be a burden.”

He wasn’t, of course. No one saw him that way; and Happy knew Y/N of all people would never think that.

He’d come to like the young girl; seeing her around the Parker apartment many times. She was an absolute delight; he couldn’t find a flaw in her. Maybe the need for independence; that fear Peter and her both shared, never wanting to be selfish, always thinking of someone else first.

But they both needed to be happy; and loving each other openly could be a step to that.

“And kid?”

Peter looked to him, waiting as Happy chose his words carefully.

“Don’t be afraid to tell her how you feel.”

Peter shook his head, “It’s not the right time Happy...”

“I know. But, someday it will be. You guys don’t have to start now, but when you feel ready and it feels right, don't hesitate kid.”

The nurse interrupted them, smiling as she waved to the young boy. “You can come in, she’s feeling better.”

He nodded, standing up beside Happy.

The older man nodded once more to the door, “You go ahead. I’ll wait for May.”

“Thanks Happy.”

Happy looked down at Peter, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “Anytime kid. I mean it.”

He smiled back at him, before slipping back into her room.

As he came in; he noticed how she wouldn’t look at him. The young girl looked to her lap, feeling the tears building.

“Y/N--what’s wrong?”

She looked up, choking back a sob. He saw it in her face; the anger, the sadness, the fatigue. Today just really fucking sucked.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she said, “I fucking hate it. I wanna go home.”

As she breathed out an exhausted cry, he rushed to her side. He pulled her into him; gentle but strong. She sobbed into his shoulder, as he mumbled reassurances into her ear.

“I’ve got you, it’s alright. Let it out…”

“I’m scared Peter; this is so hard—”

“Hey, hey. I know Y/N... I-I know it’s not easy. But you’re going to get through this. You’re the toughest person I know. And…”

He pulled away to look at her; he needed to see her when he spoke. He wanted to speak from his heart; for once he wasn’t scared to do so. As he stared into those beautiful eyes he’d found many moments of comfort in, the face he’d fallen so deeply in love with; he felt his mind begin to race. He wasn’t sure if what came next would make sense. But it would have to do.

“...Your life matters. Sometimes the things that matter most are... the hardest things we have to go through. So, for some reason you got dealt this. It’s not fair; but the fight is still worth it.”

As a tear rolled down his cheek, she reached up to wipe it away. He cupped her hand against his face as he looked into her eyes.

“Think about everything before this; think about all the memories we’ve had. Your family, everyone at school, every place you’ve been, every picture you’ve taken, every book you’ve read, every smile you’ve given—” He felt crazy; what was the point? What was he trying to say?

“All of those moments you’ve made, that you’ve had are beautiful. You’re so beautiful--so, so beautiful… there’s going to be so much more that you have to fight towards. I’m so proud of you for what you’ve done and how far you’ve come. You have to keep going; you have to keep trying. Your life means too much for you not to.”

He clutched her hands in his, holding her as if it was the only way his words would get across. Neither of them knew what would happen; but she knew she would fight, she knew that she had the love and support she needed to keep going. She knew that drive within her wouldn’t go away. Not when there was so much more for her moving forward.

“No matter what happens, I’ll be right here beside you.”

She nodded, she felt it. She felt his honesty; she knew his promise wasn’t only words. It was a bond; it was love… Tired, so tired…

He smiled sweetly, stopping himself from chuckling at her drowsiness. “Getting tired?”

“Mhm.” She mumbled.

He saddled up beside her, pulling her to him gently in the bed. They might get in trouble; but he didn’t really care. He wanted to be close to her; and she certainly was not opposed.

“TV on? He asked.

“Yeah,” she muttered, “Something stupid...”

As he grabbed the remote, clicking on the TV, he could’ve sworn a soft kiss was placed on his shoulder. His heart fluttered, but he let the moment pass as he sifted through the channels. Maybe it wouldn’t be today; or tomorrow. But someday, they wouldn’t be here. They’d be in each other's arms in another place, holding each other with sweet “I love you’s” breaking the silence. But tonight; she would fall asleep in his arms to the laugh track of a show neither of them could name; love unspoken, but prominent and indefinite. No matter what; he would be there. Always by her side.

~

Taglist: - @babyblue-07 @pinkdiamond1016 @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @lonewolf471 @babybluereads @marianas-studyblr @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses

[wandas-sunshine]

Sugar Sweet

Summary: Your family owns a cute little bakery, and Peter has a sweet tooth. Plus the view doesn’t hurt.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1,365

A/N: This is kinda short and not that great, also unedited but please let me know what you think!

Sugar Sweet Bakery was your family’s pride and joy. It was small, but the locals liked it well enough to keep it from going under. And you did too. You’d grown up in the bakery, spending your days cleaning, or doing homework at the tables. You lived in the apartment up above it. It was your favorite place in the world.

Your favorite part was always the regulars. There was the elderly couple, the McLaughlins, who always came in on Saturdays for their coffee and a nice treat. They tipped well even after three years. And Lily, a pretty middle aged woman who would pop in after particularly bad days at the insurance company she worked at. She would always tell you fun stories about her coworkers. But your favorite was Peter. He was your age, and was always friendly even though he still couldn’t look you in the eye after a year of coming in nearly every day.

Some days he’d just come in for a drink and sit by himself working on whatever homework he had. Others he’d bring his friends along with him, or stop by on his way home to pick up something for him and his aunt.

You didn’t remember the first time he visited, or the second, but by his third you had begun to recognize the cute boy with the kind smile. Pretty soon you’d picked up on his routines. He had a habit of looking over the display and asking if there was anything new. If there was, he always tried it with a grin. On days where there wasn’t he’d just order something sweet.

It had taken months for you to build up the courage to really talk to him. It was always tiny things, just snippets of conversation that never failed to make you giddy for the rest of the day. It was a little bit pathetic but you didn’t care one bit.

“Hey guys, hi Peter,” You’d said, bringing the drinks out to him and his friends as they mulled over what seemed to be a school project. You were terrified. Talking to new people was hard, and talking to pretty strangers was even more difficult. But he’d flashed you a sweet smile, and that was enough to strike up a sort of friendship.

He had begun sharing things with you in tiny pieces. He’d talk about his friends, or his Aunt May, about the classes he was taking at school and about academic decathlon. It was cool that he was so damn smart. You fell harder and faster than you’d expected to considering that the two of you were practically strangers. But he seemed to fit so nicely into your life. After all, his favorite place was your bakery too.

Your cousin had been pushing you to confess for the better half of the year, but you just couldn't bring yourself to risk ruining what had taken so long to build. After all, he still hardly looked you in the eye. Sometimes you wondered if he was simply being polite, if he didn’t like you at all. The thought of him disliking you made you queasy.

You looked up when the little bell twinkled from over the door. You bit back a grin when you saw your favorite customer.

“Hey, Pete! What’ll it be today?” You asked, brushing your hands over your apron, He messed with his hair, eyes scanning the display as he tried to decide.

“Got anything new?” He asked, his hands sliding into his pockets. You hummed an affirmation and pointed towards the newest addition to your menu.

“Glazed cinnamon apple buns. I think you’d like them, they’re sweet.” You suggest, glancing up at him. And for just a moment, your eyes met and your heart damn near leapt out of your chest.

“Yeah, I’ll take one of those. And a cocoa, extra chocolate.” You knew that already, but you nodded and rung him up. You never understood why he turned so bashful with you. He didn’t seem to have that demeanor with anyone else.

“So, what’s on the agenda for Peter Parker today?” You asked, passing back his change and starting on his drink. He looked back to his feet.

“I have some internship...stuff,” He answered, clearing his throat. You smiled at the precious nervousness that he always seemed to be drowning in. You’d grown a bit fond of it.  You carefully slipped his bun into a go bag and slid his cup across to him.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep you. Don’t want to waste any of your time. I mean, I’m sure Mr. Stark has lots he needs you to do.” You laughed a little, trying not to feel too guilty for holding him up with your small talk. You knew that the Stark internship meant the world to him.

“You’re never a waste of time,” He mumbled. It was so quiet that you nearly didn’t hear what he’d said. Once your mind had processed the words, your pulse raced. The mere thought of him enjoying your company made you feel like you were floating. He picked up his drink and tucked his bag into his backpack. “See you tomorrow.”

A week passed in the same routine. Decorations had gone up as the weather outside started to get bad. Peter had taken to seeking refuge from the cold inside your bakery. It was a safe haven, and knowing that you’d usually be there only sealed the deal.

He had taken a liking to you, much more than he was willing to admit aloud. You were sweet, and you noticed him in a way that most people simply didn’t. And, as shocking as it always seemed to him, you were genuinely interested in what he had to say.

There was only a few more days to Christmas, so the streets were bustling even despite the freezing temperatures of Queens. He slipped through the door and was met by a wave of warmth and the pleasant scent of baked goods.

The bakery was even cozier than usual, decked out in holiday decorations that he’d seen you putting all of your effort into. It looked like Santa had thrown up all over the place, but he didn’t mind the festivity too much.

“Hey, Pete! Just the guy I was hoping to see.” You mused. “I’ve got a present for ya.”

“A present?” He questioned, his confusion evident on his face. You nodded and ducked behind the counter for a moment. When you popped back up you had a basket overflowing with goodies in your hands. There were some hot chocolate packets, and a few different types of store bought candy, but more than anything else it was filled with fresh baked goods. You’d settled a card right in the top, and even tied a bow around the handle.

“Merry Christmas.” You smiled at him, and he swore that nothing else mattered, not when you looked at him like that. “I put your favorites, and some of May’s too. I hope it’s okay.”

“It’s awesome I-” He looked back up, meeting your eye and sending butterflies coursing through your stomach again. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know, but I wanted to. You spend so much money and time here, and you’re so nice so I just thought I’d-”

“(Y/N), do you want to go out sometime?” He blurted, effectively cutting off your nervous ramblings. You felt time slow down. No, there was no way that Peter Parker - sweet Peter Parker - was asking you on a date. You were practically trembling from the mixture of panic and giddy excitement.

“Yeah, yes. I’d love that.” You agreed. The look of unease on his face gave way to one of confusion, then pure joy.

“Really? I mean cool, okay. Here, um,” He grabbed a napkin and fished a pen out of his bag. Once he’d scrawled his number he passed it to you. “I gotta go, but text me, okay? I’ll see you later.” He grinned, grabbing his basket and waving goodbye awkwardly before slipping back out into the cold.

[engie-ivy]

After the betrayal, after the murder, Remus wonders if he could've known? After all, hasn't it always been clear Sirius Black is mad?

Wolfstar Angst. There are some Fluffy moments in between, but it comes down to Angst.

Never Like This

Don’t cry.

The ceremony is drawing to an end. Soon, all that needs to be said, will have been said. Which seems absurd to Remus. How can all ever be said? There’s so much to say, for most of which words don’t even exist. Still, the final words will soon have been spoken, and they’ll walk to the cemetery of Godric’s Hollow, where members of the Potter family have been buried for generations. Where Lily and James will have their last resting place.

Don’t cry.

Not now, not here, not in front of all these people. Remus can feel their eyes burning on his back. He can just imagine the conversations.

“Is that-?”

“Yeah, that’s him!”

“That scrawny, pale fellow? He’s the Werewolf who fought in The Order?”

“Poor guy, all his friends are dead now. Well, except for the one who’s hopefully wishing he were dead.”

“Hey, weren’t they...?”

“They say they were.”

“And he never realised...?”

“Apparently not.”

“How naive can someone be.”

It’s only in his head, and he can’t actually hear anyone talking, but it seems real to him. He won’t break down in front of all these people. He won’t show that kind of vulnerability.

Don’t cry. Be a man, Lupin. Don’t cry.

Immediately, he can hear Lily’s voice in his head: “Remus John Lupin. Crying is a valid way of expressing your emotion, whether you’re a man or a woman. I will not hear such nonsense out of your mouth!”

Involuntarily, Remus lets out a laugh, and oh, Merlin, that’s probably even worse than crying. Suddenly, the whole situation seems utterly absurd to him. A room full of people staring at the Werewolf Order member whose friends are all killed, waiting for him to fall apart, and here he is, fighting the urge to start laughing. They’ll think he’s gone mad. It’s what they said about Sirius, innit?

He remembers the resentment in Alastor Moody’s eyes.

“There’s not going to be a trial, Lupin. It’s no use. The man has lost every ounce of sanity. You want to know how the Aurors found him? Standing between his victims, the remains of those Muggles he blasted to pieces, gruesome enough to give even the most experienced Auror trouble sleeping, laughing. He was laughing, Lupin. He’s mad. Besides, with everyone knowing he was the Secret Keeper and all the witnesses that saw him murder Pettigrew, we hardly need a trial. We’ll lock him up in Azkaban and that’ll be the last you see of him.”

Even worse was probably the pity in Emmeline Vance’s eyes, when she hugged him tight.

“You couldn’t have known, Remus. You can’t blame yourself, okay? You couldn’t have known!”

Couldn’t he have known? Didn’t he already know Sirius Black was mad? He has said it often enough.

“You’re mad,” Remus said, staring incredulously at Sirius’ grinning face.

He surely hoped the boy was not, as he was to spend the next seven years sharing a dorm with him. But the boy had just informed him that he, in their first week at Hogwarts, had already figured out how to break in into the Slytherin dorms and had managed to sneak into Hogsmeade to purchase a load of Dung Bombs.

Remus knew he didn’t have to count on their other dormmate to be a voice of reason, as James had a similar grin on this face as Sirius. Remus knew he should say no, be the responsible one, that going along with them would only end up getting him in trouble.

But Remus took one look at Sirius’ grinning face, and he already knew he was going to get into a lot of trouble the upcoming years.

“You’re mad,” Remus choked, trying to fight back tears.

Sirius blinked at him, not understanding all the emotion. They had been lying on Remus’ bed, trying to plan a prank to get back at Slytherin for cheating in the latest Quidditch match.

“We can’t do it tomorrow night,” Sirius had said. “James has detention then. And of course not the night after, as it’s the full moon, so you’ll be off doing your Werewolf thing.”

It was just a simple, offhanded comment, like it didn’t make Remus’ entire world come crumbling down. Remus didn’t even have the state of mind to deny it. “Y- you... you know?” He had stammered.

“Oh, right. Yeah,” Sirius had said absentmindedly. “We figured it out a couple of weeks ago.” Then, he had grinned at Remus. “I must say, Moony, that’s your nickname now by the way, I always knew there was a wicked side to you, but this exceeds my expectations! Bloody brilliant, mate.”

So Remus had called Sirius mad, because how could he not mind? How could he not be disgusted with him? How could he not demand Remus to be expelled?

Sirius just shrugged. “I might be a little mad. Does run in the family.”

“You’re mad,” Remus chuckled.

Sirius had just informed him of his most recent crazy idea. He had learned that Werewolves aren’t dangerous to other animals, so he wanted to become an Animagus, to keep Remus company during the full moon, and perhaps prevent him from harming himself. Sirius obviously had no idea how difficult, and potentially dangerous, it is to become an Animagus. There’s a reason why the Ministry is monitoring the process so carefully. It’s quite impossible for a Hogwarts student to pull it off.

“I’m gonna tell James and Pete!” Sirius said enthusiastically, before dashing out of the room.

Remus fondly shook his head and focused back on his book. Typically Sirius. He would be obsessed with some crazy idea for a while, and then move on to the next. Sirius would surely put it out of his head once he finds out how much time and effort it takes to become an Animagus.

“You’re mad,” Remus murmured, barely preventing his voice from breaking.

He was sitting on his knees, his face pressed against the big, black dog sitting in front of him, his hands clutching his soft fur. “I can’t believe you actually did it... I can’t believe you would go through all that effort... For me?”

The dog shifted, and suddenly Remus was resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder, while gripping Sirius’ shirt.

Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus and held him while he sobbed. “You’re worth it, Moony. And we’re never going to let you go through that alone again, okay?”

“You’re mad,” Remus said breathlessly, wide-eyed staring up at Sirius, his lips still tingling from the feel of Sirius’ lips being pressed against them.

They were standing on top of the Astronomy Tower. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, and there was a party going on in the Gryffindor Tower. Remus had gone up to the Astronomy Tower for some air, and Sirius had followed him. Remus had told him he didn’t have to, as surely there was a lot more excitement for him at the party. As usual, pretty girls with sweet smiles had been throwing themselves at Sirius all evening. As a response, Sirius had kissed him.

“Why...” Remus stammered, his heart beating wildly and his stomach fluttering.

Sirius cupped his cheek. “Because it’s you, Moony. It has always been you.”

“You’re... mad,” Remus panted.

He was lying in bed, clothes discarded on the floor, while Sirius insisted on kissing every scar on his body.

“Beautiful,” Sirius murmured against his skin. “You’re so beautiful.”

Remus laughed breathlessly, and took Sirius’ face in his hands, pulling him up to his face to properly kiss him.

“You’re mad,” Remus whispered, shifting his eyes from the star-scattered sky to meet Sirius’ gaze.

“Not the reaction I was hoping for,” the man replied.

Remus lifted their intertwined hands to his lips and kissed the back of Sirius’ hand. “Just making sure you know. And to be clear, I love you too.”

“You’re mad,” Remus smiled, spinning around in Sirius’ arms.

Sirius smiled back at him, brighter than all the fairy lights illuminating the dance floor together. “Madly in love.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Madly drunk I’d say.”

Sirius grinned. “I’m allowed to be a little drunk. My best man duties are done.”

Remus laughed as Sirius dipped him, feeling happy, carefree, and in love, and maybe a little drunk himself.

“You’re mad,” Remus gasped, falling to his knees, trying to control his breathing.

“You can’t do that, Padfoot! You can’t!”

“He tried to hex you from behind!” Sirius argued.

Remus glared at him. “You can’t just bloody jump between me and a Death Eater’s curse! You could’ve...” His chest constricted and he struggled for air. “You could’ve died. You could’ve died because I wasn’t properly watching my back!”

Sirius dropped down on his knees in front of him, and soon came the familiar feeling of Sirius’ arms being wrapped around him, pulling him against his chest. “But I didn’t. I’m okay. We’re okay.”

Remus let out a shaky breath. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll never do that again. I can’t lose you, Pads.”

“I can’t lose you either, Moony,” Sirius whispered. “That’s why I can’t make that promise. I acted on instinct seeing you in danger, and I can’t promise I won’t do it again.”

“You’re mad,” Remus spoke softly, staring down at his cup of tea.

“They’ll come after you. Him, and all his followers.”

“I’ll go into hiding,” Sirius replied.

“But you won’t have a Fidelius Charm to protect you!” Remus snapped, lifting his head.

“We said we’d do anything to keep Harry safe,” Sirius argued. “We all did. I’m the best choice-”

“Exactly!” Remus interrupted. “And everyone knows you are. Isn’t it better with this sort of thing to not go for the most logical choice?”

Sirius avoided Remus’ eyes.

“Look, Sirius,” Remus sighed. “I know you’d never tell, I do. But no one has dived deeper into the Dark Arts as He has, and who knows what methods He has to pry the information from you? Isn’t it better to go with a Secret Keeper no one will suspect?”

Sirius turned his gaze back to Remus, his expression pained. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then closed it again, squeezing his eyes shut. When he eventually spoke, there was a forced calm in his voice. “I know what I’m doing, Remus.” He reached out and took Remus’ hand in his. “Please, you have to trust me in this.”

And Remus had.

If Sirius could do that, if Sirius could hold Remus’ hand, look him in the eyes with that sincere, vulnerable expression on his face, ask him to trust him, and then turn around and destroy everything Remus held dear, then it could’ve all been a lie.

It had all been a lie.

Each lingering gaze, each soft, private smile, each reassuring touch, each slow, loving kiss, each whispered word of ‘I love you’, a lie. And Remus had let himself happily be lied to, blinded by his foolish and naive belief in true love.

Remus really couldn’t have known. Alright, maybe he’d always known Sirius was mad, but not like this. Never like this.

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 11

A/N: sorry it took so long. my world crumbled and well...it’s been a hard ass pandemic.

--

“So, this is how mobsters live…”

Aubrey flicked her gaze over the interior of the entry way, noting the mix of Corinthian columns and Romanesque sculpture with a splash of modern 80s interior decoration. It was a little over the top and gaudy but her Aunt Rosemarie thought it was the height of tasteful and luxurious décor. It wasn’t how Aubrey would ever decorate but if she were being honest with herself, she kind of liked it. It was familiar and comforting.

Aubrey ran a hand down a heavy marble column and chuckled. “Only the ones with style.”

Stacie’s laugh was sweet and light and soothed the nerves she didn’t even know she had. Aubrey took her fiancée’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Once they crossed the threshold into the living room there would be no turning back. Once you were in the family, you were IN the family, and no one leaves the family. Almost as if sensing what she was about to say, Stacie turned to bring their foreheads together, her smile wide and warm and just for Aubrey.

“You and me, right Bree?”

The blonde matched Stacie’s smile and nodded. “You and me.”

“And me. Don’t forget about me. Which I think you do forget about me because you never call me. You don’t write. No one knows nothing until you text that you’re bringing over the love of your life. You must be love of her life by the way. Hi. I’m Jesse, the smarter, more attractive, and talented, not to mention younger, cousin. Sorry dollface, you got stuck with this sad sack instead. It’s not too late to change your mind though. Just saying.”

A laugh bubbled out of her and Aubrey turned her head to face the annoyingly eager figure hovering just over her shoulder. His giddy smile was ridiculous and she knew she might have to threaten to shoot him to get him to stop being…well himself. Jesse put an arm around each of them, pushing himself further into their personal space and if he were someone other than family Aubrey would definitely shoot him.

“You’re really annoying.”

“Your face is really anno….” It was all the taunt he managed to get out before a black lace folding fan smacked noisily off the back of his head. Aubrey chuckled as Jesse winced and reached up to rub his head. “Ma! It’s said in love!”

“Basta! Get out! Go…”

Jesse wasn’t the biggest guy in the world but he still almost a foot taller than the woman he was cowering away from. Her severe dark brows rose as she hissed out a warning when he didn’t move fast enough down the hall. She watched until she was sure Jesse was actually going before turning to Aubrey, her hard stare going soft as she took in the blonde and pulled her into a tight hug.

“You don’t call except for business; I never see you anymore. Who’s feeding you? You’re wasting away!” Aubrey bore the clucking and poking and prodding because arguing with her Aunt Rosie was like trying to fist fight the tide. She might be a big boss at the table but she was still and would always be Rosie’s little duckling. The small woman finally stopped her scolding tirade turned to take in Stacie in one long look from feet to face. “And who is this?”

“Zia Rosie, this is my girl. Stacie…this is my Aunt Rosemarie.”

“It’s really nice to meet you.” If Stacie was nervous meeting Aubrey’s aunt, she didn’t show it, which was smart. Any hint of fear shown now would last forever in Rosie’s mind. She might never mention it but it would be a mark against Stacie that would never go away in her aunt’s eyes. “Your cooking has been all Bree can talk about.”

“Hmmm.” Rosemarie tapped her hand fan lightly against her palm as she considered the brunette towering over her. “You cook? You don’t look like you eat much.”

Aubrey held her breath, unwilling to break into tension of the moment. On the surface it seemed like such a simple if slightly rude question but it wasn’t. Acceptance in the family only came through Rosemarie. If she didn’t like you, no one would trust you. No one.

“Not as well as I’d like to. Yet. But I’m getting there.”

“No one taught you? You have no mother?” The idea of a grown woman not being able to cook wounded something in Rosie’s spirit and Aubrey could feel the smaller woman gather herself to her full tiny tower of 4 feet, 11 inches of righteous indignation. “Who feeds you??”

“My mother is more proficient at ordering food rather than making it.” Stacie’s smile didn’t slip but somehow dimmed in its intensity making the air around them seem somehow heavier. “To be honest with you I didn’t realize how important cooking for your family was until I had one to feed. I could definitely improve…and I will. For my family.”

Rosie gave a slight nod and slid her arm through Stacie’s completely shutting Aubrey out of the conversation. Her aunt gave Stacie one more intense gaze, reading all her flaws and weighing them against whatever ideal she saw in her head.

“You like gnocchi?”

“I love gnocchi.”

“Good. Tomorrow we make. Come early.” Aubrey felt a huge weight slide off her shoulders as she watched her aunt give Stacie’s arm a squeeze. The small woman disengaged their linked arms and whirled on Aubrey with a sharp smack of her fan to the blonde’s shoulder. “And you! You wait so long to bring a good girl home, what’s wrong with you??”

“Sorry Zia…took me awhile to find her.” Stacie gave her a wink over her aunt’s head and Aubrey could feel herself smile in response, almost forgetting her aunt was standing between them. “But I promise I’m not going to let her go now that I have her.”

“Hm, finally something smart. Go…today you work. Tomorrow we eat, hm?”

Aubrey gave an obedient nod of her head and smiled when she was pulled into the softness of her aunt’s chest for a strong rose water scented hug. It reminded her of her childhood and her aunt comforting her through the upheaval of her mother leaving and her father going to prison. It had been a lonely five years for Aubrey but Zia Rosie had always been there waiting, just as ready and eager to give hugs as she did swats of her fan.

Her aunt pulled back and gave her a gentle shove towards the dining room to send them on their way. “Vai mia piccola anatroccolo.”

Aubrey glanced back from the doorway to the dinning room at her aunt still standing there watching her with a soft smile. Her own mother had left her but Aubrey had never lacked the love and caring a mother gave a child. She’d had Zia Rosie to hold her and comfort her through all her childhood hurts and fears, to teach her to cook, and raise a family, to grow from a girl to a woman. No, she hadn’t had the woman that gave birth to her in her life, but she wasn’t without a mother. Rosie turned away toward the kitchen and Aubrey squared her shoulders as she faced the dining room.

She could feel the slight current of nervousness energy from Stacie and gave her a reassuring smile and a wink before leading her into the big room filled with old men with loud voices. There was a chorus of greetings and a few claps from her suit clad uncles sitting around the table. A few of her cousins smirked and teased playfully about being whipped into bringing her girlfriend to the table which Stacie chuckled through. But one man was quiet, his arms folded over his chest, his dark suit pressed perfectly with sharp lines. Franco raised one hand and the boisterous greetings tapered away to silence.

“Hey Uncle Frank.”

He stood slowly from the head of the table and opened his arms. Aubrey didn’t hesitate, she let go of Stacie’s hand so she could go to her uncle and sink into his embrace. He was in his seventies now but the arms enfolding her had the same strength and warmth they had when she was a child. He kissed her head tenderly and held her out at arm’s length to look at her fully.

“Look at you hm? California is good for you; you have a tan and a smile. Who is this bella you bring? Are you why my girl here looks so happy?”

Stacie gave a soft chuckle, her eyes all for Aubrey. “I certainly hope so.”

“Uncle Frank this is Stacie. My fiancée.”

He gave her an approving nod and gathered Stacie in for a tight welcoming hug, kissing her on each cheek before placing her hand back in Aubrey’s. It was enough for him to know that Aubrey was happy and his acceptance was unconditional.

“Jesse…bring an extra chair for Bella.”

“It took me six years to earn a chair and she gets one on the first day? Wow Pops.”

Paolo, her cousin swatted Jesse in the back of head making all of them laugh. Her Uncle Pete leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Hey kid, if you had looked like her, you’d have been in on the first day too.”

Jesse held out his hands in mock offense. “Whoa….hey not for nothing but I AM the only one in this family with the looks, okay? Look at this face. It’s gorgeous. This suit? This suit cost more than your third wedding.”

They all laughed at that as he set the chair next to Aubrey’s at Franco’s right hand and settled Stacie into it. Aubrey gave him a nod of thanks and slid into her seat with ease. She had missed this, being around her family, The Family. Not all of her uncles and cousins were related by shared blood, some of them were bound by the blood they had spilled. Sometimes that was as strong if not stronger than sharing similar DNA.

Stacie gave Jesse a mild smirk and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder so she could take in all of blonde woman at her side. “And for all that you still don’t look as good as Aubrey.”

Her uncles crowed with delight, teasing their sons and nephews with the statement until Uncle Frank cleared his throat and patted the tabletop to get everyone’s attention. He wasn’t a loud man and he didn’t have to be. A respectful silence fell heavily over the table.

“Now we’re all here, we’ve had some laughs, now we get to business, yes?” He gestured to Jesse and settled into his chair while a box was passed around the table. Each of them divesting themselves of their phones before the meeting started. Franco waited for his son to get back from locking the box away in the office before he started speaking to the group. “We all know why we’re here at this emergency meeting. When the Feds start looking at one of us their looking at us all.”

No one said anything but all their attention had gone to Aubrey. She was the reason they were having to close ranks and the weight of their judgement was resting heavily on her shoulders. Her fingers drummed on the table for a moment before she spoke.

“They’ve got nothing. Everything looks legit, runs legit, and is legit as far as the books go.” She ran her business carefully, making sure that she paid her taxes, and kept all the right paperwork to back herself up. The problem wasn’t how she managed the businesses she used as fronts for other lines of work. The problem was she’d gotten sloppy with something personal and that wedge was just enough opening to look deeper at her and anyone that did business with her. “But they do have pictures of me getting on to a boat that was later found on fire with its owner dead.”

“Jesus, kid…”

There were grumbles and a few headshakes but no one dared to confront her directly about it. One of her uncles leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. His deep voice was slow as he weighed all of his words carefully.

“This have anything to do with what you did to Nicky?”

Aubrey let her eyes reflect the cold empty place inside of her that felt nothing for the people she had to hurt. Guilt could eat you whole if you let it and she wasn’t going to feel guilty about other people making bad choices.

“Nicky was into bad shit that was going to get us all noticed. I did you a favor.”

“Nicky was a good earner! You took away nearly 25 percent of my bottom line when you had your little tantrum.”

Stacie was listening intently to every word and if she was surprised at any of it, she was careful not to let it show on her face. Aubrey’s fist tightened at the word tantrum and Stacie’s hand covered hers with a squeeze, letting her know she had something to say. Aubrey’s gaze flicked to her and she nodded for Stacie to speak her mind.

“The main benefit of having your pal Nicky around wasn’t the money he brought from the women he supplied to rich influential men. It was the leverage he bought with his knowledge of his client base. And while that leverage was a powerful tool it only got you to gate of the manor, it could never get you inside. You can only push the buttons you know about.”

Franco laced his fingers together and leaned back slightly in his chair. The sharpness of his gaze measuring Stacie with vivid intensity. “I’m listening.”

Stacie pressed on at his slight nod. “I was born into politics, you could pay off a dozen interns in twice as many offices and you’ll still never have as much control as you would if you knew their secrets, their agendas, their entire family history. I know what these people are and how they think because I am one of them.”

“And so that fixes the little problem Big Mike has with Nicky. You want bigger prey, get a better hunter. Bene. Now what do we do about these Feds?” Her uncle, the one that earned some of his money from Nicky, grunted and nodded still unhappy with the situation but unwilling to go against Franco once he’d made up his mind about something. As far as Nicky the pimp was concerned that was just a loose end that got tied up. “Who is running this investigation?”

Aubrey gave a soft huff. “Alice Esposito.”

Franco gave her a disappointed shake of his head and Aubrey felt her cheeks flame. “Her?”

She could feel the tremor of a laugh being tightly held in by Stacie and threw her hand up in frustration. “I know! She just showed up again like a bad penny.” Aubrey was acutely aware of the fact that it was her actions that had made Alice so hellbent on taking her down. “My guy says she’s running loose with this. But I don’t have my own source in the Bureau to confirm that.”

“Quincy, talk to our man in Virginia. I want to know everything on Esposito. Where she eats, who she talks to, who she sleeps with, when she last shit. EVERY SINGLE THING. I want to know who is pulling her strings and I want them cut. You understand me?”

Quincy gave a nod and Franco made a gesture of dismissal. “Everybody else you move quiet. No changes. It’s business as usual until we find out where we are. Now go, I have to think.”

It hadn’t gone great but it could have gone a lot worse. Aubrey let out a breath as she watched everyone file out of the dining room to retrieve their phones and leave. She turned to give her uncle a look but he jerked his chin at the door.

“You too. Go show your girl around…go shopping. Something huh?”

She gave a nod at that and bent to kiss him on the cheek before she led Stacie out too. They might not all agree with the way things had happened but at least they were all on board with the direction things were going to go from here on. If they could figure out where this attack was really coming from, they could resolve it before it became a threat to the Family business. If not…Aubrey was going to have to find a way to make Alice and her evidence disappear for good.

[imagines-r-s]

Ocean’s Rise, Empires Fall

summary: you didn’t want your father’s death to be your downfall, but for the longest time it seemed like it was going to be to you and everyone else around you

taglist: @mdlyncline(send me an ask to be added to any of my taglists)

wc: 2.7k

a/n: kinda threw canon out the window, but nonetheless, i proceed. basically, clint and nat both survive- it doesn’t really check out but uh yolo

warnings: pretty angsty. very angst actually. there’s a description of depressive episodes so if that’s triggering please be cautious loves, mention of death

mentions of peter parker x stark!reader, but mostly avengers x reader (platonically)

When your dad snapped his fingers, he might have saved the world, but he destroyed yours. He obviously had no intention of doing so, he was just saving the world. You always knew your dad thought that he hadn’t done anything right in life, so you easily assumed that he thought this was his last shot. 

Tony wasn’t even aware of your existence until you were about four years old, but once he did find out he knew that he had to change his ways. When he did find out him and your mom came to an agreement for custody where he would see you every other week and every other holiday. 

What you didn’t know was that your mom had told Tony about you because she knew she only had a few years left with you, having been diagnosed with cancer a year before she had you meet Tony. She didn’t want you to be dropped off at some random man’s house and be expected to call him dad. 

She never had anything against Tony, he hadn’t done anything bad to her, she just figured with everything else going on in his life, he didn’t need a child to add onto that-boy was she wrong. When Tony met you the first time, his whole perspective on life changed. He wanted to be a good person for you, obviously, he wanted to for Pepper too, but he realized either way you would look up to him and you needed someone good in your life. 

He quickly noticed that you were just as intelligent as he was and the two of you bonded a lot through working in his lab. He made you do homeschool, considering how advanced you were and that if anyone knew that you were his daughter, you could easily be in danger. 

Tony didn’t hide anything from you, you were aware of the Avengers and that he was Iron Man, much to Pepper’s dismay. Considering that you grew up with all the Avengers, all of them thought of you as their own. You would always help your dad with upgrades to suits and the two of you even started on your own suit at one point. 

After the events that took place with Aldrich Killian, your parents were more adamant about your safety; making you train with Steve and Nat, finishing up your suit, and keeping more tabs on you. You understood, but it was still too much, which led to you starting to sneak out more. 

Although your dad had many regulations on your suit, you were still smart enough to be able to override them, that’s why you were able to leave the tower in your suit so easily. As you were flying over New York, you caught glimpse of a blue and red form also moving through the air. “FRIDAY, scan the area for any heat signatures.”

“Sure thing, Miss Stark,” the A.I responded before doing what you had asked. Whoever was flying was found easily, and you followed them until they stopped on top of a building. Expecting some sort of suit, you were surprised to see someone who looked to be about your age, wearing a homemade jumpsuit and mask, “what are you supposed to be? The outfit is kinda wack, not gonna lie,” he hadn’t expected anyone else on top of the building, so when he looked over and saw you in your suit flying beside the building, he was shocked. 

“You’re asking me that when you’re the one flying at the edge of a building?” you could tell he was your age by the way his voice cracked. Opening the suit to be able to step out, you stood by yourself on the roof of the building, “there. Is that better?”

“Oh, uh-uh, yeah. Is that Stark tech? Oh my god, you’re- you’re his daughter?”

“Aw, so smart.” 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. You simply shrugged, “Just disappointing my father, what about you, I never caught your name?” 

“It’s Pete... Peter. My name is Peter,” he said, purposefully lowering his voice. “My name’s y/n,” you mocked his fake lower voice, “So how do you do that exactly?”

“What? Swing?” you simply nodded your head, “oh, well, I was like bitten by this radioactive spider, and then all these cool things started happening. Like I’m stronger than I was before, I have quicker reflexes, etc.”

“So, you got the qualities of a spider, is what you’re saying basically?”

“Uh, yeah. Well, when you put it like that, the explanation is shorter,” you simply nodded once again. “So, Petey, what’s your superhero name? You obviously attempted a superhero look, but failed miserably.” 

“Uh, spiderman? I haven’t really thought of it.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into it, haven’t you?” he shyly nodded, “haha, well, you have the name, you have the missions or ‘civilians’ to rescue yet?”

“I just stay around my neighborhood, for the most part, you know friendly neighborhood type beat.”

“That’s honestly really cool, looking out for the underdog that not many think to save immediately, I get it. It’s cool. Do you have a phone?”

“Uh, yeah, you want it, Stark?”

“Well, I know you want mine, Parker,” his eyes widened at the sound of his last name, “yes, I knew your name before I asked you.” He slowly nodded in response, handing you his phone to add your number, “so, what do you look like under that mask?”

“Oh, hold on,” as you watched him remove his mask, you smirked as his floppy brown hair fell over his face before he had the chance to move it up, “Oh, you’re cute, Parker. Well, you have my number, so text me. Gotta go.”

You quickly left before he had an opportunity to respond to you. Leaving him with your number and the hope that he would see you again. 

Peter had texted you shortly after, leading to the start of an amazing friendship. The two of you started teaming up more and more, which caused your dad to find out about your sneaking out, but it helped him with his discovery of the Spiderling. You two were a duo that no one wanted to mess with and it was that way for the next few years, up until Thanos attacked. 

You like to think that Thanos caused everything in your life to be messed up, but there were so many things contributing to your downfall: the Accords breaking your family apart, not seeing said family for years, Infinity War, losing the person you were in love with but too scared to tell, losing your family after they had reconnected for the first time in such a long time, your dad being lost in space, the five years, getting everyone back, and then losing your father.

Although a lot of good things came from all of that, you refused to think about the positives. Everyone tried to help you out of whatever was going on in your head, but no one could help, not even Peter. 

For the first time in your life, you were fearful. Fearful that another bad thing would happen. Fearful that you would lose more people. Fearful that you might self destruct, too. 

Pepper had tried her best to help, but she was also grieving. Peter was, too. Morgan didn’t understand. The whole team was sinking, but they worked so hard to keep you afloat. 

Bucky and Sam were trying to get you back into training, but anytime you went, you were hurting yourself more than anything else. Nat and Clint tried to get you back into your suit, but it had stayed in its case since the day Tony died. Wanda had tried to get in your head and help, it was a last resort, but she was hopeful. Banner tried to get you back into the lab. Steve and Rhodey were both well aware of how similar you were to your dad, so he simply kept a distance while keeping you away from things that would hurt you more in the end. Even Coulson tried to help by showing you his Captain America trading cards. 

But nothing they did worked. 

None of them gave up, but they were all losing hope that they would be able to get any aspect of you back to your old self. They knew that you were simply winding up to self destruct with all these bottled up emotions, and they didn’t want it to go terribly wrong. 

You hadn’t cried since the day he died. You felt terrible for not going to most of the funeral, but people understood. You felt like a disappointment knowing that you weren’t there for the people that needed you most. The completely abandoned them from such close proximity, any other time you would have found that statement funny, but know it just made you feel worse. 

When it hit a year since the funeral, you knew you either had to get up now or you’d slip deeper down the rabbit hole. For the first time in a long time, you got up from bed and you were able to take a shower. You combed out your hair, detangling out the knots. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you feel good at that moment. 

You felt a little bit more like yourself again, it wasn’t much but you’d take it. You had started walking towards the kitchen of the compound when you heard one of the doors in the hallway open. Looking down towards the hallway, you saw Morgan leaving her room. “Morgan, you ok?” 

“Yeah, I just wanted a juice pop,” she said smiling up at you. “That’s an idea I can get behind, c’mon let’s go.”

As the two of you were eating the juice pop, you hadn’t noticed that your family had crowded around the kitchen watching the two of you. Peter had woken up a little bit later than everyone else, but he saw that they were all crowded in the hallway, “guys, what’s going on?”

“y/n’s up and is laughing with Morgan,” Pepper said. Peter quickly turned the corner to see for himself, when he saw the two of you he smiled. He was so happy to see you up for the first time on your own since everything went down.

“You know that I can see all of you guys right there, right?” you said, after seeing the crowd of people in the corner. They all slowly emerged from the corner. “Yeah, we aren’t that small of a bunch are we?” Bruce stated to which you simply shook your head in response.

“It’s nice to see you up, doll,” Bucky said, kissing you on the top of your head. “Yeahhh, uh, I knew I needed to get up eventually, I guess. I don’t know.” 

“Hey, take all the time you need. Don’t stress about us, y/n,” Sam said. 

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

For the next few weeks, you eased back into everything. You started eating more, you got back to a kinda regular sleep schedule, you started training in small amounts, but still wouldn’t go down to your and your dad’s shared lab. 

It didn’t take you long to realize that even when some superheroes take time off, the bad guys never stop. Which was the reason why the team had been trying to talk you back into getting into your old suit. “C’mon, y/n, please, we need you. Your dad’s tech is what we need. Please,” Steve said. 

“Well see here’s the thing, it’s a dead man’s tech that hasn’t been used in a year, I don’t think it’ll help much,” you said pacing the livingroom. You didn’t want to bring the team down, but you weren’t getting back into your old suit. 

“y/n. Listen, HYDRA is planning an attack and we don’t know exactly when it will happen, but it’s happening tomorrow, please. Think about what your dad would have wanted,” you drew the line at him mentioning Tony. 

“My dad wouldn’t want some arrogant asshole to be trying to make me do something with his tech that I don’t feel comfortable doing yet. If you cared, you’d respect that. Now, talk to Peter or Banner, I’m sure they can figure something out.” with that last statement you walked away towards your room. 

You had a few moments to yourself before you heard a knock on your door, “y/n/n, it’s me.” You recognized Peter’s voice anywhere, “you can come in.”

“Are you ok?”

You simply nodded when you realized you were tearing up. No one had asked how you felt, simply because they assumed that you didn’t want to hear the question. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said before wrapping his arms around you. “Love, it’s okay. Let it out.”

You weren’t sure how long you had been wrapped up in Peter’s arms, but he held you tight as you cried through this moment. Everything you had bottled up was finally coming out. All the walls you had built in the past year were breaking. 

“Pete, I can’t help. You have to understand that I want to, but I just can’t go down to the lab and help. I can’t. And Steve expects me too and he said that dad would have wanted me to help and I just- I just don’t know what to do.”

“I think you have to trust your gut with this one. If you can’t go through with it, then don’t force yourself. Tony wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You simply nodded at the boy in front of you, “I’ve missed you, Sunshine.” He grinned after hearing the nickname he hadn’t heard in so long from you. “I missed you, too, Starlight.”

----------

Somehow a newscast had gotten to the fight, it wasn’t in a private place, so you weren’t surprised to see the cameras angled at your boyfriend and your family. Everyone was being taken out, one by one. 

Sam, Bucky, Nat, Peter, and Steve were the last few still standing, but you could see how worn out they were. You thought about how you could help and there was only one valid option, you just didn’t know if you wanted to go through with it. Correction, you didn’t know if you could go through with it. 

You made your way downstairs, stopping right in front of the lab that still looked exactly the same. “Miss Stark, it’s good to see you again,” you head the familiar A.I say. “It’s good to see you too, J.” 

Slowly taking in the room in front of you, you slowly walked in. The familiar smell of your dad’s cologne still lingered in the air somehow. It wasn’t sad, it was just a bittersweet moment. “JARVIS, can you bring out Mark 85?” 

“Of course, Miss Stark.” You smiled to yourself when you realized that Bruce had likely updated your suit. 

The bracelets that went with the suit quickly clung to your body, giving you the opportunity to suit up with the click of the two bracelets. “Alright, JARVIS, play dad’s kick ass playlist.” The sound of AC/DC filled your ears as you made your way to help protect your family. 

By the time you had gotten there, the HYDRA soldiers had the upper hand, but you knew if you came around unexpectedly they wouldn’t be able to do anything. You took the time to get the other models to get to where you were, that way you could surround them. You watched as the Avengers all smiled to themselves after realizing you were the one doing this. 

The other models were able to disarm HYDRA, giving all the worn out Avengers to strike at them and get them to the right correctional facilities. 

“y/n, you came,” Peter said, he was the only one that wasn’t completely out of breath at that. “Yes, yes. No need to thank me, I completely saved your asses back there,” you have a slight bow causing everyone to grumble. 

“Man, you really are your father’s daughter,” Rhodey said. “And you love me for that, Rhodes, don’t even,” you said raising a brow. 

[lovesdarkness]

Star Crossed - Chapter 01

Warnings: Nothing for this one. Pretty safe.

Word count: 9432

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Next chapter

Chapter One

Sirius took one last drag off his cigarette before flicking it down onto the pavement and snuffing it out. Exhaling the smoke that he'd held in he waited at the entrance to the platform for James and his parents. He couldn't believe it was their last year at Hogwarts. With Voldemort gaining power and the Wizarding world on the brink of war, he didn't know how to feel. Events of the last year were weighing heavy on his mind and heart. His moods had been horrible lately and he couldn’t seem to shake the constant feeling of despair that filled him. So many things had changed and part of him wished he could go back to those earlier childhood years. Back to when everything was simple and he had no worries. The only thing he'd change was that he'd have left home to live with James far sooner.

Looking over he spotted the Potter’s approaching and smiled as he walked over to meet up with them.

“There you are Sirius dear.” Mrs. Potter said as she reached out to wrap Sirius in a warm hug.

Sirius couldn’t help but smile. “Hey there mum.” he murmured as he returned the hug. 

In the time he had known the woman she had been more of a mother to him than his own mother had been his entire life. He remembered the very first time she had ever hugged him and recalled how awkward and uncomfortable he had felt, frozen to the spot as he looked over at James in confusion. He’d never received any kind of affection from his parents. And it was rare for them to ever dole out any sort of praise to him. Moving in with James and experiencing what a real loving and nurturing family was like was strange at first. The Potter’s regular and unconditional offering of affection and praise felt so alien to him. It had taken Sirius quite a while to get used to it but they eventually grew on him and after a period of adjustment he came to welcome it.

“We’ve barely seen you the last few weeks,” Mrs. Potter continued. Pulling away she fretted over him, straightening out his shirt and jacket. “We’ve been so worried about you dear.” Reaching up she gently patted his cheek.

Sirius looked down at the woman as he reached up to take her hand, giving it a loving squeeze. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind and needed some time alone to sort it out. I’m sorry I worried you...I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright darling. So long as you know that we’re here for you and we love you.”

Sirius felt a tightness form in his chest. The feeling was still so strange to him, being told that he was loved. “Thank you mum.” 

“So do you boys need help getting everything onto the train? Or do you think you can handle it yourselves?” Came Mr. Potter's voice.

“I think we can handle it dad. Nothing to worry about.” James said.

“Very well we’ll be off then,” Mrs. Potter said, hugging her son and leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Have a good year boys. Study hard, and stay out of trouble.” Sirius and James both let out a snort at that. “And give Lily our love. I’m so happy you’ve met such a sweet girl. Sirius, take a page out of my son's book and find yourself a nice girl. I want to see you happy." She finished with a wink, causing Sirius to roll his eyes and shake his head as he let out a soft laugh.

"I'll get right on it mum."

Once they had said their goodbyes and the Potter’s walked off, James and Sirius grabbed their carts and ran through the wall to get to Platform 9 ¾. The entire platform was swarming with people. Students and parents milling about chatting and discussing their hopes for the school year. In the background the black and red steam engine sat idle with white smoke rising from its chimney. In previous years Sirius would have found the scene to be comforting. Hogwarts was a second home to him and he was happy to get away from his horrid family. But with the state of things as they were now he just couldn’t seem to find that same enthusiasm. Many parents were worried and fearful, wondering if they should be sending their children away. Dumbledore assured everyone that Hogwarts was the safest place they could be, and Sirius desperately wanted to believe him.

Looking around he spotted a number of young first years and gave a sad smile. “Were we ever that small?” Sirius asked as he turned to James.

James sighed in response and shook his head. “It feels like a million years ago doesn’t it? Meeting you, and Moony, and Pete on the train.”

“Perhaps not a million years, but definitely more than seven.” Sirius chuckled. Letting out a sigh he reached up a raked his fingers through his long raven hair. “Snivellus saying he hoped Lily would be in Slytherin,” he shuddered. “Lyra sitting there, too shy to say a word to anyone. Staring at me with those big round eyes when she thought I wasn’t looking.”

After what he’d heard from Lily, James let out a soft chuckle. He knew exactly why Lyra had stared at Sirius all the time. “She was a little odd at first. But we all have our odd moments. Especially Remus.”

“Oh I don’t know, Peter is much more odd than I am.” Came a voice from behind them. James and Sirius turned around and grinned when they saw Remus walk up with Peter.

“Moony!” they both greeted, fist bumping and hugging their friends. “Hey Pete,” Sirius said as he slung his arm around Peter and mussed up his hair. “How was your summer?”

Peter shrugged. “Uneventful, despite being in another country,” he muttered, scratching at the inside of his left arm. “You guys?” 

Sirius shrugged as the four of them headed through the throng of people towards the train. “Well, Jamsie here was with Lily most of the time when she’d be by to visit. I was kind of off doing my own thing. Met up with Moony a few times, went to check on Lyra and see how she was doing.”

As they walked they came upon Lily and her parents loading her trunk into one of the compartments. James grinned, walking up to his girlfriend. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before greeting her parents. While they stood around chatting Sirius couldn’t help but get the feeling that someone was watching him. A chill crept up his spine. It was an eerie feeling that he couldn’t seem to shake as he cast his eyes around the platform. 

There on the opposite side he came across his mother as she stared him down. No wonder the feeling was so damn creepy. He held eye contact with her, narrowing his eyes and sending her all the negative energy he could muster till she looked away, turning to his brother. Seeing his brother made Sirius’ heart ache. They may have grown apart in the last couple years but Regulus was still his baby brother. He still loved and missed him every day. For a single nagging moment part of him hated himself for getting out. For leaving his brother behind to deal with their horrid family alone. Merlin knew he was just so under their thumbs, he hoped one day the boy would find the strength to break out of their control and get away himself. 

Once Lily’s parents had left the four boys loaded their belongings onto the train while the red head looked around.

“Hey has anyone seen Lyra yet?” She asked as her green eyes scanned the crowd. “The train is going to leave soon and she’s nowhere to be seen,” She looked around at each of them with concern marring her features. “She’s usually the first one I see, she’s never been this late before.”

James and Remus shrugged as Sirius frowned and looked out amongst the crowd again looking for the brunette. Lily was right, they would have seen her by now as she told them stories of everything she’d done over the summer. He had a sinking feeling though this year would be different.

“How about you guys go and find us a good car, eh,” Sirius started as he looked back at them. “I’ll go look for her and help her get her things loaded up.” The others nodded their agreements. James placed a hand on his friends shoulder a moment before the group went to board the train. Sirius then turned and made his way back out into the crowd to search for their friend.

Lyra took a deep breath as she walked onto the platform and was faced with a sea of people. She watched the families. Mothers and fathers and younger siblings, wishing students well and goodbye. Hugging them and gushing about how much they would be missed as they prepared for their departure for school. 

At one time her own family would have given her the same warm and loving farewell. But so much had changed since that first year and she had no idea what had been the catalyst. It was a little over a year ago that things had started going down hill. Now she just wanted to get to school and get away. 

She barely got to see her friends over the summer. Yes there were letters, and a visit with Lily in London, but not having her friends there with her through the tumultuous times was hard. She’d never felt so alone before. Now she wanted nothing more than to spend every moment she could this last year with them. Her eyes scanned the crowd as she searched, she smiled slightly as she saw Lily in the distance being helped by her father to load her things onto the train. 

She couldn’t go rushing forward to greet her friend though as she had to wait on her mother, who for some reason was held up, to follow her to the platform.

Lyra bit her lip and sighed as she waited for the woman to arrive. She looked at her watch, knowing the train would be leaving soon. All she wanted was to run off and find her friends, but she knew that if she left without her mother's send off there would be hell to pay later.

So focused on the thoughts that were tumbling through her mind she didn’t sense the form coming up behind her. “Lyra there you are!” A familiar voice called as a pair of strong arms slipped around her waist and scooped her up into a hug. “I’ve missed you.” 

She gasped in surprise as she was lifted from the ground and whirled around in a quick circle. Once she was set back down on her feet she turned in his arms and looked up to see Sirius’ bright smile beaming down at her. A wide smile of her own spread across her lips as she flung her arms up around his neck for a hug.. “Sirius…hi.” she breathed softly in his ear, her cheeks tinted pink as she felt something flutter in her chest when she felt his arms wrap around her.

“What is going on here! What are you doing Lyra?” Came an angry voice from behind them. Lyra’s eyes widened with fear and she yanked herself away from Sirius. She whirled around and there was her mother. Dark lips pressed thin, her eyes flashing with disapproval. “Stand straight darling don’t slouch. Keep your chin up,” her mother said, reaching out and lifting her daughter's chin. “And your hair's a mess, fix it up.” 

“Yes mother,” Lyra said, standing ramrod straight, her shoulders pulled back as she reached up and smoothed out her hair. Why? Why did she have to come now? While he was here...she hadn’t wanted him to see this.

Her mother looked at her critically, fixing her blouse as she spoke. “Darling I never want to see that again. A lady never shares physical affection with any man unless it’s with the man she marries. Now who is this? Introduce us.” She demanded, her eyes now fixed on Sirius.

“I’m sorry,” Lyra murmured and swallowed the lump in her throat. Licking her lips she took a deep breath that did nothing to calm her. “Sirius...my mother, Aurelisa Horne.” she said slowly, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she stared straight ahead. “Mother this is my friend, Sirius Black.”

Her mothers eyes flashed slightly at the name. He could see the recognition in them, she knew the name, knew who his family were. “Sirius Black,” she said, emphasizing his surname. A sweet smile suddenly sprang across her lips as she looked Sirius up and down. “So this is the silly boy I’ve heard you fawning about to your Muggle friends every summer. The one you’re so in love with? Gushing about how dreamy his eyes are, how his voice gives you butterflies, and how his smile makes your heart melt.” she held his gaze with every word before looking at her daughter. “Forget this ridiculous crush darling. Once I find you a proper suitor, you’ll be married shortly after graduation.”

Lyra was visibly mortified. Her face went a deep shade of red as she felt something in her stomach clench and all the air flew from her lungs. It felt like she was suffocating. It was true, she’d had feelings for Sirius for as long as she could remember and had kept them secret, until now. When her mother with a tone of sweet venom spilled everything to him. And she couldn’t do anything to stop her, all she could do was stand there like a statue staring straight ahead of her, barely able to breath as she fought back tears. Too humiliated to look over at her friend.

Sirius’ eyes widened in shock as he stared at Mrs. Horne then turned his head to look over at Lyra, confusion whirling through his chest as he heard her mothers words replay in his head. Lyra? In love with him? Since when? Shaking the thoughts from his mind his demeanor changed almost instantly as he straightened his posture, the smile he’d greeted Lyra with sliding off his face.

"Madam Horne," he greeted coolly, angry at the way she had spoken to his friend. "We haven’t had the chance to meet," thankfully, the unsaid word hung between them. "I hope you know what a special person Lyra is. She really is a wonderful friend, you have no idea how happy I am to know her. She’s so kind hearted and caring, it’s clear who she didn’t inherit those traits from." He looked down at Lyra, grey eyes sparkling as he ignored the angry expression on the other woman's face. "Now if you will excuse us, I must escort Lyra to the train as it will be leaving shortly. I’m sure you would hate for her to be late, though I can understand how time can slip away when a loving parent is saying goodbye to their child." He finished, reaching down to help Lyra with her trunk with ease.

Lyra stood frozen to the spot, wishing the ground beneath her would open up and swallow her whole. At the end of the encounter her mother leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Have a good year darling." She said almost lovingly and cast a glare at Sirius before turning and heading off the platform. Unable to move, her breath started coming fast as her resolve started to crumble and she quickly came undone. From the corner of her eye she saw Sirius take her trunk. "Thank you...." She managed to choke out, too humiliated to meet his eyes, before she whirled around and rushed towards the train. She hugged herself as tears streamed down her cheeks terrified that her mother had ruined something important to her. 

“Lyra…” Sirius called out to her, but she didn’t stop. He wanted desperately to chase after her and make sure she was ok, but stopped himself. If he had been humiliated like that by one of his parents in front of one of his friends he wouldn’t exactly want to be followed either. He gave her a bit of space to start before following to load her trunk onto the train next to his.

Lily had been sitting in James’ lap talking to the others when she saw Lyra rush by, tears in her eyes. Worry immediately filled her as she jumped up. “Lyra?” she called, and turned back to the others. “I’ll be right back.” she said before dashing after the other girl.

Lyra didn’t stop as she heard Lily calling her name and continued walking till she reached the very end of the train and could go no further. She tried to gasp deeply for breath as she clutched her hands to her chest, her heart pounding so hard in her chest it hurt. She heard Lily approach her from behind and she turned to face her friend. “I can’t breathe...” she gasped.

Having never seen her friend so distraught before Lily’s eyes widened with concern. “Okay, it’s okay,” she said as she pulled Lyra to an empty bathroom for some privacy and the two slid down to sit on the floor. Reaching out she grabbed one of Lyra’s hands and pressed it to her chest. “Just follow my breathing, it’s alright, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Lyra swallowed, sucking in deep breaths as best as she could before completely dissolving into tears. “She ruined it…she ruined everything,” she cried as she buried her face into her hands and sobbed. “...how could she do that…”

“Huh? Who ruined what?” Lily asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as she reached out to grasp her friends hands and pull them away from her face. “What are you talking about?” 

“My mother! She told Sirius!” Lyra cried, squeezing her friends hands as she shook her head. She still couldn’t believe this was happening. “She told him how I felt...she embarrassed me in front of him,” she continued, taking deep gasping breaths as her shoulders shook. “I can never face him again.”

Letting out a sigh Lily shook her head. “Oh hush now, Sirius will hardly hold that against you. Hey look at me.” Reaching out she gently grasped Lyra’s chin and made her look up at her. “You are one of his favourite people in the whole world,” she continued. “How did he respond?”

“I...I don’t know. I didn’t see his face. I was far too embarrassed to look at him,” Lyra gulped as she pulled away, reaching up to wipe her tears away with her sleeve. When Lily handed her some toilet paper she blew her nose. “I-I was just so...humiliated. I couldn’t hear anything past the blood pounding in my ears. I just froze. The things she said to him…”

“Lyra if there is one thing I know about Sirius Black, it’s that he cares about his friends more than anything.” Lily assured her, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. “And you fall under that category. You are a wonderful and loyal friend who has always been there and gotten him through countless dark times. Whatever your mother said he won’t let get to him. None of us understand bad parents better than Sirius. And who knows, maybe him finally knowing how you feel could work out in your favour.”

Closing her eyes tight as she felt more tears well up, Lyra shook her head. “No it won’t...he won’t ever feel that way about me. We both know that I'm far from the type of girl Sirius is interested in. He likes the pretty, fun, outgoing girls, and I'm just...not that. He’ll never see me as anything more than a friend.” She let out another soft sob as tears once more slid down her cheeks. “It’s going to be so awkward now. I won't be able to look him in the eye knowing that he knows how I feel about him. It's going to change our friendship. I don’t know how to face him.”

“You face him like you always have. That doesn’t have to change.” Lily assured her. “In the meantime, what the hell is up with your mother? She was always so nice and sweet in the past. What made her turn so psycho?”

“I don’t know. It was never like this before.” Lyra said as she leaned back against the wall and pulled her legs up, hugging her knees. “She was never this horrible. But ever since she and my dad started fighting last year it’s just gotten worse and worse. They had such a horrible row this morning. He didn’t even come to wish me good bye.” swallowing Lyra rest her chin on her knees as she wiped her eyes. “And the last few months she’s been working hard at trying to find a husband for me...and force me into an arranged marriage.”

“Wait WHAT?” Came Lily’s shocked response, her green eyes wide.

Lyra nodded. “She’s insistent upon marrying me off into a prominent non-dark family once I’ve graduated. I don’t even have a choice. She even does random purity spells to make sure I’m still a virgin! Because good husbands don’t want “damaged goods” apparently.” A wave of sadness and grief washed over her again as she shook her head. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fight this.” Her voice broke as fresh tears streamed down her face.

“Lyra please, let’s go back to the others.” Lily insisted, reaching out to take her hands but frowning when Lyra pulled away. “We can all get you through this together.”

Shaking her head as she sniffed, Lyra let out a shuddering breath. “No. I don’t want the boys knowing.” She especially didn’t want Sirius knowing. “Please don’t say anything to them, I just want to keep this between us.” 

“ Lyra,” Lily sighed and shook her head. She didn’t like keeping secrets from the others, especially James. But this wasn’t her call, it was Lyra’s life and it was up to her to decide when she was ready to talk about it. “Come on, let’s just go back please. At least talk to Sirius and let him show you that this isn’t going to change anything between you.”

Lyra shook her head, causing Lily to huff and cast her an aggravated glare. “I’m not ready.” she murmured.

Reaching up to rub her forehead Lily sighed. “Ok. I’ll go back to the others and give you some time to gather yourself. But if you take too long I swear I’m going to send all four of them back here to break down this door and drag you back to our car.” When Lyra nodded she exited the bathroom, closing the door behind her to see that the train had already left the station as the scenery blew past. Almost immediately she heard the door lock and she shook her head. That girl wasn’t leaving that bathroom till they got to the school. Letting out a groan she headed back to the car she was sharing with James and his friends.

When she arrived and slid the door open she saw that Sirius had joined the group and the four of them looked up at her as she entered. 

“Is she ok?” Sirius asked, grey eyes clouded with concern. 

“Nope,” Lily said with a shake of her head. She took James’ hand as he reached out to her and pulled her into his lap. “She’s locked herself in the bathroom and is refusing to come out. Says she’s too humiliated and thinks this will come between your friendship.”

“What!” Sirius exclaimed, eyes widening in shock. Without another word he got to his feet and bolted from the car. Tracking Lyra through the train he came to the bathroom she had locked herself into and stopped outside. He listened for a moment and heard the faint sound of sobbing coming from within. The sound made his chest tighten. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath before knocking on the door with a soft rapp.

“Lyra...please let me in.” he called out when there was no answer.

“I’m fine Sirius. Go away.”  

Letting out a huff Sirius shook his head. “No you’re not fine, and I’m not going anywhere. Please let me in?” Silence. “I swear Lyra I will sit outside this door and spend the entire train ride obnoxiously singing the most annoying song you can think of. And I’ll cast a spell to project my voice into that room so it’s all you will hear.” he threatened, slamming his fist against the door.

There were a few seconds of silence before the sound of the door unlocking reached his ears. He opened the door a crack and peered in. She was sitting on the floor with her face buried in her knees as she hugged them, shoulders trembling with each sob. Stepping in he closed and locked the door behind him before leaning back against the wall, sliding down to sit next to her.

“Hey…” he said softly, reaching out to rest his hand against her head. “You ok?”

Silently she shook her head.

“Anything I can do to help?”

Another shake of her head.

Crossing his legs he turned to face her better, gently stroking her hair. “Come on Lyr, look at me. Please?” The whole situation was confusing to him. At that moment though all he knew was that someone he cared for was in distress, and all he wanted was to make her feel better again. But what could he do?

“I can’t.” Came her meek whimper before letting out another soft sob. “I can’t.” 

Leaning over Sirius pressed his forehead to her temple, closing his eyes. “Lyra I’m here...I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” he assured her, his hand sliding down to rub her back in an effort to comfort her. “You can’t honestly think I’d reject you over this. I’d never do that. You’re one of my closest friends, you mean too much to me. You’ve done nothing wrong so please...look at me.”

After taking a few deep breaths Lyra slowly pulled her face out of her knees, screwing up enough courage to raise her tear stained face and cast her brown eyes up to look at him. His own were full of concern as he watched her before a smile graced his lips. 

“There you are pretty girl.” he murmured, reaching up to wipe away her tears with his thumbs. “See? Everything is fine. So no more tears, ok?” he assured her, opening his arms to offer a hug. She leaned into him without hesitation, cuddling up against his chest and resting her head against his shoulder. Sirius wrapped his arms around her tight, murmuring assurances into her ear as he rocked her back and forth.

When she pulled away several minutes later Lyra looked considerably more calm, and a little cheered up. Sirius let out a relieved sigh as he reached up to slip his fingers through her hair. “Well...we’ve certainly had better first days.” he joked, causing her to let out a breathy laugh.

“That’s for sure.” she answered, reaching up to wipe away the last of her tears. “I’m sorry...for everything.”

Sirius shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for love. I promise everything is fine.” He tried to think of something else to say and after a short silence came the dreaded question. “So how was your summer?”

What could Lyra say? Her summer was a nightmare. All her parents did the entire time was scream at each other. That her mother was being overbearing and enforcing all these rules on her. That she was being groomed to be sold off like cattle to the highest bidder. And all she wanted more than anything was to break free and run away. She didn’t say any of that though. He was worried about her enough as it was, she didn’t need to concern him more. A million answers to this question flew through her brain before she decided on one.

“It was pretty good.” Lyra said, forcing a smile on her face as she shrugged a little. “Nothing too exciting.”

Sirius instantly frowned. “You’re lying.”

Lyra blinked in confusion, looking up at him with owl-like eyes. “What...but...” she sputtered, face flushing dark at being caught in a lie. 

After a moment of silence he let out a sigh. “I went to go see you,” he confessed, reaching up to rake his hand through his hair. “For your birthday actually. I had wanted to surprise you and take you out for the day. But as I walked up to the house, I heard the fighting. All the windows were open and your parents were screaming at each other something fierce.”

Lyra’s jaw dropped in shock, her eyes widening. “You...you were there?” she asked, her voice trembling. 

Sirius nodded. “Yeah. But once I heard everything going on I didn’t think it would have been a good idea to show up unannounced. I saw you though, as I was heading back to the road to leave. I hid in that big oak tree and watched as you and your brother climbed out one of the upstairs windows and you helped him climb down the trellis.” 

“Oh…”

“I thought it was really sweet, the way you tried to distract him. When you started singing and dancing to all those songs for him. You’re an amazing big sister.” His lips cracked into a soft smile as he gazed down at her. “You’re an amazing friend too.”

Lyra felt her heart drop a little at the “F” word.  She had expected him to say something like that but it still didn’t stop it from stinging. “You are too.” she murmured as she looked away from him, resting her chin on her knees. 

“You took me by surprise you know. You’ve always been so quiet and shy and reserved. Watching you sing your heart out and dance around like that. That’s a side of you I’ve never seen before. I never would have expected that from you. You have a beautiful voice.”

Feeling her skin flush hot Lyra couldn’t stop the smile that formed. Embarrassed she reached up to cover her face as she giggled softly. “Sirius…” she whined. She wished he would stop, she appreciated the compliments but she had a hard time accepting them. She never knew how to respond.

“I watched the entire time until your mother called you in. I really liked that Diamonds song.” 

“Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend.” She answered. Something clicked in her head then as she came to a realization and she bolted up straight, turning to him. “Shortly after that I heard the sound of a motorcycle going by. Was that you?” 

Sirius nodded with a smile.

“I remember thinking of you then. The sound reminded me of you and made me wish I could have seen you. And it WAS you…” She whispered, raising her hands to clutch them to her heart. “All summer I had missed you so much.”

His smile fell. Just by watching her he could see how much missing him had hurt her. “I’m sorry.” he said as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him, rubbing her shoulder. “Maybe I should have stayed, maybe I should have gone back and snuck you out that night and we could have spent some time together. Maybe gotten into a bit of trouble.” He grinned and winked at her, making her laugh a little. 

“Yeah, maybe.” She said, casting her eyes back to him once more. She hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at him since he’d joined her, so she took the opportunity at that moment to take him in. As she did she noticed a line of stubble growing along his jaw and up his chin. “This is new…” she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. Her fingers lightly traced a path along the new growth and she smiled softly.

Sirius reached up and made a face as he rubbed his jaw. “Eh yeah, I haven’t really been paying much attention to it to be honest. It’s been a bit since I’ve shaved. I’ve had other things on my mind.” He looked down at her as the corner of his mouth turned up, shivering a little as he felt her soft hand caress his face in a loving manner. “James accused me of using it as a ploy to get girls, but that’s honestly the last thing on my mind right now.”

“I like it.” Lyra breathed as she continued to stroke his cheek. She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from his features. “It suits you…”

Sirius watched her intently, his hand coming up to cover hers as she cradled his chin. The look in her eyes was one that he had seen a million times before when she looked at him. But it wasn’t until that moment that he had finally realized just what that look was. Now that he knew the truth he couldn’t help but wonder, how had he missed it? How had he not noticed it before?

Because you’re an oblivious git, that’s why. He thought. With all this swirling about through his head there was only one question on his mind then.

“How long?” He asked, gently tightening his grip around her hand.

His voice breaking her out of her daze Lyra’s eyes snapped to his. “Huh?”

“What your mother said...how long have you…”

Lyra’s face seemed to freeze, an anxious look flooding her eyes. Sirius felt her whole body go tense and next thing he knew she was pulling away taking her warmth with her.

“I’m not talking to you about that Sirius.” she said, shaking her head. 

“Since when are there things that you won’t talk to me about?” he asked, looking wounded. “We’ve always told each other everything. I’ve even told you things I’ve never told James and he’s my best friend. Mostly because the git would laugh his arse off at me…”

“And I’ve told you things that I’ve never told Lily.” Lyra admitted. “But I’m not talking to you about this. I’m not going to talk to you about the boy that I secretly fancy...not when that boy is you. I can’t…” she trailed off, falling silent. Once more she turned her head away, unable to face him. 

“You could have told me…” Sirius insisted.

“And what if I had told you, then what? What would have happened Sirius? Would you have magically fallen in love with me? Would you have suddenly realized I was the one you HAD to be with? What would telling you about my feelings have achieved? Aside from potentially ruining our friendship?” Lyra asked with an exasperated tone. She shook her head and swallowed, looking over at him. He could see the pained look in her eyes. She clearly had been struggling with this for a long time. “There was no point in telling you how I felt because you were never going to choose me. You were never going to be interested in me in that way. Because we both know I’m far from the type you’re attracted to Sirius.”

Sirius’ brows furrowed together as she spoke. He could hear the pain in her voice at the last bit. He was silent for a few moments as he racked his brain for a response. “You...don’t know that.” he said slowly, biting his lip. “If you had given me a chance…”

“Ok well now you know Sirius. Now you know that I have feelings for you. So what’s it going to be? What are you going to do about it?” Lyra asked, watching him and waiting for a response. His mouth just fell open and she could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to form a response but the silence dragged on without a word from him. Nothing. Lyra let out a soft derisive laugh as she shook her head and looked away. “Exactly as I thought.”

“Now...hey...it...it’s not like that.” Sirius insisted, sitting up and turning to her more. Reaching out he grasped her chin and turned her face back to look at him. “It’s not that I wouldn’t want to date you, it’s nothing to do with you...it’s just. I spent a lot of time over the summer thinking about shite. And I made the choice to not get involved with anyone for a while. Not even for a shag. I...I’m a complete mess in the head right now, I really need to get my shite together and I need to be alone to do it. I’m no good for anyone. Especially you. You deserve far better than some pathetic, useless prat like me.”

As her expression softened a little Sirius released his hold on her chin. “You’re not pathetic...and you’re not useless.” she whispered. 

The corners of his mouth curved up into a half smile. “Well, I’m glad you don’t think so.” 

“You’re absolutely a prat though. A right big one!” 

Sirius let out a barking laugh and shook his head. “Oh sod off.” he said, gently elbowing her, happy when she giggled a little. Letting out a sigh he leaned back against the wall, biting his lip as he looked over again. “I still wish you had told me though. If anything so I could have been more mindful when talking about whatever girl I was shagging at the time. That...that could not have been easy.”

Lyra sighed, biting her lip. “It...was absolute agony,”   she admitted, “And hiding it was so hard…” her chin trembling a little at the thought as she felt tears well up.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I hate knowing that I hurt you, even if I didn’t mean to.” He reached over to take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You know, I had always found it strange that you never talked about any boys you fancied. You never expressed any interest in anyone. Not once. You may have thought I didn’t notice, but I did because I always heard other girls prattle on about who they liked. The closest you ever came was...was…” he trailed off, a faint memory from their fifth year floating into his mind. His brows knitted together slightly, still having a hard time believing that someone as sweet and lovely as her could feel anything for him. “So...that time with the heels and the make up. I asked if you were trying to impress someone. It was me.”

A blush creeping up her face from the memory Lyra gave a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Yeah it was.” she admitted with a nod. “I felt so awkward, wearing all that and then losing my balance and falling flat on my face. I still can’t believe you laughed at me!”

“I said I was sorry!” Sirius replied with a laugh, shaking his head. “Come on looking back on it now you have to admit it was funny.” He grinned when she suddenly burst out giggling and nodded and they laughed together. Laughing with her felt wonderful. Both of them sighed once the fit of laughter subsided, and his grin faded to a soft smile as he looked down at their conjoined hands, lacing their fingers together. There was still only one thing on his mind. “But...I still need to know...how long…”

Lyra let out a soft laugh and shook her head. He sure was persistent. But what Sirius Black wants, Sirius Black gets. And right now what he wants in an answer. A breath escaped her lips and she leaned her head back against the wall. “Honestly?” she started, closing her eyes she felt a tear slip down her cheek. “From the moment I first met you.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Really?”

She nodded as she smiled a little. “Yeah. When we all sat on the train together, I remember thinking you were so pretty. And yes I said pretty. Forgive me I was eleven,” she said as he laughed, which made her laugh. Closing her eyes she replayed that day in her head, remembering how nervous she was. How she couldn’t stop staring at him. How much she liked his eyes and his smile. How his jokes made her laugh. 

“You’re the reason I’m in Gryffindor you know,” she confessed softly after a few moments of quiet contemplation. When she looked over at him she couldn’t help but be amused by the puzzled expression on his face. “When it was my turn to be sorted the hat was originally going to put me into Hufflepuff. ‘Endlessly patient, loyal to a fault, and a heart that’s pure and true. Hufflepuff would be the perfect place for you.’ I heard it murmur. I said ‘No please don’t...I want to be in Gryffindor.’ and the hat questioned me, asking me why. ‘Because...I want to be friends with Sirius.’ I answered. It was quiet for a long while after that, I thought for sure it was going to place me in Hufflepuff anyways because I’m not brave and strong like a Gryffindor should be. But then it yelled ‘Gryffindor!’ and I let out this huge sigh of relief. Because that meant I got to be close to you.”

Sirius stared at her in stunned silence, completely at a loss for words. All that and it still took her nearly two years from that day to actually find the courage to speak to him, hell the first time he had ever said hello to her in the common room she froze and looked at him with wide terrified eyes before running away. But despite how shy and awkward she was, she was always there to offer a smile and silent encouragement. “I...had no idea…” he stammered.

“No one did. You’re the only person I’ve ever told.” 

Before he knew what he was doing Sirius reached out and slipped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest in a firm hug. He kissed the top of her head before resting his chin atop it, closing his eyes. “You need to think better of yourself. Because you are strong, and you are brave. The fact that you found the courage to tell me all of this is proof of that.” Reaching up he slipped his fingers through her hair, twirling it around as he nuzzled into it. “You have come so far from being that shy, awkward girl I met on the train. You’ve blossomed and grown so much. But you need to break out of that insecure shell, you need to open up more and let the rest of the world see the you that I see. Because the world needs your beautiful heart, it needs your light. Now more than ever.” He looked down at her as she cuddled up against his chest, eyes closed with a contented smile on her face. “I’m grateful every day that James pushed me to befriend you.”

Blinking in confusion Lyra pulled away to look up at him, giving him an odd sort of look. “James pushed you to befriend me?”

Sirius bit his lip, looking a little sheepish. “I can explain…” he said as she pulled out of his embrace. “I mean, we were friendly to each other and we talked sometimes and helped each other in some classes. But we weren’t really ‘friends’ in the true sense of the word. We never actively hung out or spent time together outside of class. It was after James’ little obsession with Lily started, and he was trying to pursue her and she kept turning him down. He came to me one day saying that he wanted me to befriend you. I looked at him like he was bonkers because you weren’t normally the type of person I’d be friends with. I mean yeah you were kind and friendly, but I also thought you were kind of...odd and weird. Like when you would just silently stare at me with those big wide eyes when you thought I wasn’t looking.” 

He couldn’t help but smile at the embarrassed flush that spread across her cheeks.

“I asked him if he was daft, why would he want me to actively pursue a friendship with you. He said, ‘Because she’s Lily’s best friend. And if Lily sees that our best friends have become friends, it might push her towards me’. I wasn’t too keen on the idea honestly, but he was my best mate and I wanted to help him out.”

Nodding slowly as she listened, Lyra chewed on her bottom lip. “So essentially what you are saying is that the only reason you befriended me is because James talked you into it, and that you both were using me so he could get closer to Lily?” she asked, a hurt expression crossing her features.

Sirius winced at her words. “When you put it like that...yeah that sounds pretty horrible.” he said, giving her an apologetic look. “But...it was the best thing I’ve ever done. I very quickly saw what a loyal and faithful and caring friend you were. I actually remember the exact moment I realized that. When you found me after that fight and my face was all busted up, and you took me by the hand and led me over to the lake. You transfigured your robes into a blanket for us to sit on before taking this little white handkerchief out of your bag. You dipped it into the water and started cleaning away the blood. Your hands were so gentle, and your eyes full of kindness. I...I had never had anyone take care of me like that before. It was at that moment I realized just how much of an amazing person you are, and that I was damn lucky to have you in my life.”

The memory flashed through Lyra’s mind too. She could remember it as if it happened yesterday and it made her smile softly. But the smile fell quickly as she thought about the secret he had just told her. 

Sirius saw the disconcerted look on her face as she replayed everything he had just told her in her mind. Guilt flooded into his chest as he reached out to grasp both her hands in his. “I know in the beginning I befriended you under false pretenses. And it was wrong...it was so very wrong of me. But even though it started out that way it didn’t stay that way. Your friendship means so much to me and if I’ve hurt you I’m so very sorry. Please...please forgive me.”

Lyra took a deep breath and swallowed as everything tumbled about her mind. His confession did hurt. But she could hear the sincerity in his voice and see it in his eyes as he pleaded for her to forgive him. Letting out a sigh she laced their fingers together and gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “It’s ok.” she assured him, smiling at the relief that fell over his features as she watched him. “Why or how it started doesn’t matter, what matters is where we are now.”

“Thank you.” Sirius breathed as the tightness in his chest dissipated and relief washed over him. He reached up with one hand to cup her cheek, smiling as she nuzzled into it. What he didn’t realize is that no matter what it was he had done, she’d forgive him anything. “How are you?  Do you feel better now that you’ve gotten everything off your chest?” he asked.

Lyra smiled and nodded.

“Just do me a favour, please? Don’t hide from me okay?” Sirius asked her, glancing into her eyes and then turning his head away. His hand left her face and fell to his side. “With everything that is going on, with this bloody war looming over us, I really just...I want us all to be together as much as we can right now.”

Lyra reached up to gently take his face into her hands and turned him back to look at her. “I promise to always be at your side and give you strength when you feel you have none,” she insisted, her thumbs gently gracing over his cheek bones. “And if I get scared and feel like everything is too much to deal with and I run and I hide...follow me and stay with me no matter how much I fight it. We’ll lean on each other and give each other the strength to get through the darkness. Promise?” 

“I promise,” Sirius nodded his head, and managed a smile. “We should get back or they’ll worry even more than they are.” 

Lyra felt her heart skip a little as he smiled. Her mothers words were true, his smile did make her melt. Before she could stop herself she leaned in to give him a comforting kiss on the cheek, her face and neck flushing dark as she pulled away to stand up. “I’m sure they know we’re ok, but like you said we all need to be together as much as we can.” she said as she held her hand out to him.

Casting her another smile Sirius took her hand and got to his feet. “Indeed we do.” he said, straightening out their clothes with a quick charm.

“And I promise I’ll try to not let...the feelings...make anything weird between us.” Lyra said softly, lowering her eyes to the ground as she squeezed his hand. She still felt anxious and awkward about him knowing, but as long as it wasn’t talked about she felt like she could deal with it. 

Sirius shook his head letting out a soft chuckle before tugging at her hand, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her in another hug. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll be fine. I promise.” He assured her, resting his chin atop her head as he felt her cuddle into his chest. “Don’t ever feel like you have to hide what you’re feeling. Don’t feel like you have to bottle anything up, you’re allowed to talk about it. It’s ok.”

Lyra closed her eyes and smiled, pressing her face into his chest as she hugged him. They stayed there together like that for a few moments, Sirius swaying them back and forth, before they pulled apart. “Thank you.”

Sirius just grinned and winked as he took her by the hand and the two of them headed out of the bathroom and walked down the corridor hand in hand. Their friends looked up with relieved faces when they got back to the car they were sharing, Lily jumping up to pull her best friend into a hug.

“We weren’t sure if you’d be hungry so we bought some food from the trolly witch.” Remus said, looking between the two trying to gauge the situation. “Is everything ok?”

“Uh, no not really,” Lyra answered as she sat with Lily, Sirius planting himself down on her other side. “But it will be.” Her stomach let out a growl then as she eyed the roast beef sandwich that was sitting there with the other items they had gotten to eat. She didn’t realize how much time had passed sitting in that bathroom with Sirius, and she was positively famished. “What did we miss?” she asked as she grabbed the sandwich and ripped open the packaging, taking a hungry bite.

“Well, James and Lily were just announcing that they’ve made head boy and girl.” Remus announced as James and Lily showed off their badges with pride.

Lyra was mid bite of her sandwich as her eyes went wide and she looked between the two. “What?” she exclaimed, her mouth still full. She swallowed quickly and grinned. “That’s great.”

“How the hell did you get to be head boy?” Sirius exclaimed, a look of horror on his face. 

The others laughed, shaking their heads. “Perhaps Dumbledore thought if James was given a position with responsibility, he’d be able to keep you in line better.” Lily suggested with a smirk.

Sirius let out a barking laugh and rolled his eyes. “Yeah fat chance of that happening. No one can tame this beast. Not even dear sweet Jamsie.” he snorted, reaching out to grab some snacks to eat while Lyra continued eating her sandwich.

“Seriously though, Pads we HAVE to come up with something epic to prank Dumbledore with during his speech,” James whined, giving a pout. “We’ve had all summer, how have we not figured something out yet?” 

“I don’t know.” Sirius groaned, reaching up to rub his face. “But it has to be epic. It’s our last year, you know that Dumbledore is expecting us to pull off something epic.”

“Or maybe James being made Head Boy is him trying to hint to you that with his new responsibilities, he shouldn’t be screwing around with pranks?” Lily asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Perhaps he just wants a calm and quiet start of the year feast.”

James and Sirius looked at Lily with bewilderment before looking to each other. They burst out laughing, shaking their heads as James leaned over to gently pat her hand. “That was a good one, love.” he said, snorting back another laugh. Remus just smiled and shook his head, letting out a chuckle.

Even Lyra rolled her eyes and giggled a bit. “Come on Lily, you had to know how ridiculous that would sound. Causing trouble is literally in their blood.” she said. Finishing her sandwich she brushed the crumbs off her hands and lap as she looked around. “Did you guys get anything to drink?” she asked.

After sending Peter off to get some drinks from the trolly witch, they continued discussing their prank conundrum. After spending much time humming and hawing over possible ideas, they were unable to come up with anything sufficient in their minds. Lyra had been looking out the window watching as the light of the sky slowly faded away when something popped into her mind on a whim.

“Hey,” she started, turning to face them. “What about fireworks? Like maybe during the sorting ceremony when each first year is sorted into a house, when the sorting hat announces what house they’re to be placed in, fireworks in the shape of that house's crest and colours could go off above them near the ceiling.” she explained, looking between the three boys. “I mean yeah it’s not exactly a prank per se, but it would certainly be memorable.”

James, Sirius, and Remus listened intently to Lyra’s suggestion before looking around at each other. A thoughtful silence fell upon the car as they mulled the idea over in their heads. It was Remus who broke the silence first.

“You know, it’s not a bad idea.” he said, looking between James and Sirius. “She’s right it might not really be a prank but...I like it.” 

The other two thought it over a little longer before grinning and nodding. “Yeah that sounds pretty good.” James said.

Sirius beamed at Lyra, resting his hand against her head as he leaned over to kiss the top of it. “It’s a wonderful idea. Such a smart girl.” he crooned, making Lyra flush.

Hearing the sound of the car door open they looked over to see Peter returning with some drinks for them. He smiled faintly as he handed them out.

“Oi Pete...we figured out what we’re doing.” James said with an ecstatic grin on his face, filling Peter in on the plan. For the last hour of the train ride it was as if Lyra and Lily were invisible. They looked at each other with smiles before looking back to the four boys as they excitedly plotted ways to pull off the scheme.

It was the start of their final year, and it was going to start off with a bang.

[quackeroos]

spring day pt.2 | p.parker

Pairing: peter parker x Stark!Hanahaki!reader, peter parker x michelle jones

Summary: peter discovers the truth about y/n’s condition. y/n had already accepted the inevitable, but peter wasn’t. he came up with a plan that could possibly save her, now all he has to do is get her to agree with it. 

Warnings: all through out this story there will be mentions of blood, death, and will contain pining and angst.

Words: 5.6k for everyone!

A/n: your positive feedback from part 1 inspired me so much while i was writing this, so thank you guys so much! i didn’t expect Spring Day to reach 300+ notes in a week ‘coz my past works didn’t... well before. so thank you so much! i forgot to mention this in the first part, but the the idea of naming this series came from BTS’ song “Spring Day”. you guys can listen to the song while reading it! but if you’re not into kpop, that’s fine. why did i name this series “Spring Day”?  you’ll find out at the end of the series.next update will hopefully by next week. my birthday writing challenge is still on-going, so everyone is still welcome to join!  ARI’S BIRTHDAY WRITING CHALLENGE!

*gif is not mine

General Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Hanahaki. It’s a disease caused by unrequited love, wherein flowers grow inside your chest and cover up your respiratory system, making the host cough up petals and blood until you die.”

Peter was silent for a moment. He was sitting beside her. Mask in hand, his head hung low, just looking at the pile of petals and blood. Everything was still a blur for him, so he replied with a low tone. “How long have you had this?”

“A few years.”

Peter winced at her reply. She had been hiding her disease for years and didn’t tell him? Peter tried to remain cool, hoping she could explain more. There had to be a reason why she hid it from him and their friends. Everything she does after all was for a reason. “Why didn’t you tell any of us you’ve had this for so long? We could’ve helped you.”

She sighed. “Peter, even if I told you guys, there’s nothing you can do.” Even though he couldn’t see her face, the sadness was laced in her voice.

“What do you mean that there’s nothing we can do? There has to be a cure for that!”

“It’s isn’t that simple, Peter.” She stood up from her bed facing him, making Peter look up at her. “It’s either I get surgery or… or my love gets requited. And surgery doesn’t always work.”

He scoffed, “So you plan on giving up?”

“I’m doing the surgery. Pepper has already talked to Stephen and Christine about it. I’m getting the surgery by the end of the week.”

“But you said it yourself that the surgery doesn’t always work! Y/n the best chance you have is getting your love requited.” As if that wasn’t the most obvious answer. Y/n almost laughed, if only he knew. There was a time she did thought of that. Try and come between MJ and Peter to save herself from the heartbreak and the disease. Maybe she could do that? Be selfish for once. After all, all her life she had been used to giving, sharing, putting others before herself. But the little voice at the back of her mind was keeping her from doing so. She couldn’t do that to MJ. Most specially, she couldn’t do that to Peter. She had always been at the side, watching him pine over MJ ever since she became more open to their little friend group.

“Who is it then? Who did you fall in love with?” his tone was cold, and it chilled Y/n to the bone.

“You knowing who it is won’t make a difference. He’s already in love with someone else.”

“Then maybe he’ll listen to reason. Y/n, you’re dying!” he stood up, there was a glint of hope in his eyes and Y/n’s heart ached. If anything, she didn’t want to see that hopeful glint in his eyes. It would only hurt more to tell him the whole truth. “Maybe if me and the others can talk to this guy, we can – “

“Pete.”

“—We can try and make him fall in love with you! Then-then you’re cured! You’ll be back to normal.”

“Pete.” She whispered softly, begging him to stop. But Peter continued to ramble on, walking around her room in a quick pace.

“Or we can try and introduce you to some suitors! Speed dating, you know? You’ll fall in love with someone else and maybe your love gets requited back!”

“Peter! It doesn’t work that way, okay!” Y/n finally found her voice. She couldn’t take it anymore. If Peter continued with his hopeful rambling, it’ll become harder and harder to tell him the truth. The despairful truth is better revealed than hiding it behind a hopeful lie. “Hanahaki doesn’t work that way. Love doesn’t work that way! You can’t just beg someone to fall in love with me!”

He turned hot on his heel.  “Then what am I supposed to do? Watch you die?”

“That’s not what I’m—”

“Then what, Y/n?! I’m trying to give possible options that might work and-and you just turn them down!”

“That’s because it won’t work!” Her tone matched his. The two were overlapping each other in the heated argument, the loud voices in their heads are all over the place. “Peter, the only solution to this is the surgery. The guy is too far gone. He’s in love, Pete. And the one he’s dating is in love too. I can’t ruin what they have. They’re too good for each other.”

The air between them became calm, a bit more relaxed because of the sincerity in Y/n’s voice. He can tell that she truly loves the guy. Y/n was willing to sacrifice herself and her love for the sake of the two. And it didn’t matter if she was the one who has to suffer just so they could be together. But Peter isn’t having it.

“Tell me.” He gave her a hard look. “Tell me who the guy is.”

Y/n shook her head, “Pete—”

“I’m not letting you die just because of some stupid guy Y/n! I won’t have it! You deserve to live just as everyone does! You deserve to be loved just as they do because I know how much you have given to them - to everyone!” Peter was tearing up. “And the world hasn’t been kind to you too! If anything Y/n, you deserve a lot more because the world has taken a lot from you.”

The pain, the grief, the sadness, everything washed over her. It was like a tsunami of every bad feeling hitting her, and she was in the strike zone, all of it was because of what Peter had said. She didn’t want to feel it. She’s already tired of crying. Wasn’t it already enough? The silent sobs came out of her mouth and the tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes, slowly rolling down in a hot trail.

“If I tell you, everything won’t be the same again.” Her voice was soft and quiet, but it was enough for Peter to hear. His expression changed into confusion. He could feel her heartbeat increase in pace and her anxiety was waving off her.

Peter carefully asked, “What do you mean?”

She bit her lip, anxious to speak out to form the words that’s been sitting in the back of her mind for the past three years she had known him. It took a lot of courage to meet his eyes. She had thought she was would ready to do this, but let’s be honest, since when was anyone ever ready to confront the person they’re in love with? It was a great risk, but Y/n had to let it out now.

“You.” She replied hoarsely. “Ever since sophomore year, it was you.”

It felt like the wind knocked out the air out of Peter. Was he hearing this right? He had to be imagining things. He couldn’t possibly be the one that’s killing her, right? Everything Y/n felt for him was purely platonic.

It had to be.

The new discovery sent Peter in a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, guilt, sadness, and regret, all rolled into one. He didn’t expect to feel anger, but he did. Though he wasn’t exactly sure who he was angry with. He was angry at himself, for not recognizing what his best friend felt for him all this time and being the cause of her pain. Angry at the disease, because it’s consuming her, and now her time is numbered. He was angry at her, because she didn’t tell him about everything sooner. But Peter didn’t have the heart to be mad at her, even after everything. Because in the end, she made the choice not to tell, and she cared for him and MJ so much that it didn’t matter if her own happiness and life was at stake. Y/n was only human after all. And she was too good for this world.

He lets out a heavy breath. It was still hard to grasp what Y/n just said. It felt like he was going to have a sensory overload. “W-Why? Why? Why didn’t you tell me this before?” his voice was slowly starting to break. The weight of guilt pulling him down to the ground.

“Because this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to you to blame yourself for this, Pete. It’s not your fault, it never was.” She put a hand on his shoulder, but it burned him to feel her sympathetic touch.

“How can you say that this isn’t my fault?! Y/n you’re dying because of me. You got this disease because of me! How can you not blame me for this?!”

“Because it’s mine Peter.” She replied calmly. “It’s my fault. I was stupid to fall in love with you and keep it to myself. But I did, Pete.” She took his hand in hers and held it tightly, hoping it might console him. “I fell, and I don’t regret doing so.” A sorrowful smile grew on her face, and instead of giving Peter comfort, he felt bad even more. Y/n was smiling despite the pain. “I never blamed you for this, and I never will. You never even knew in the first place, and I didn’t tell you about it.”

No matter what consolation Y/n would say or soothing gestures, Peter still blamed himself for it. But he didn’t have to tell her that. He didn’t tell her anything, just let her speak out the thoughts that ran in her mind. She was caught off guard when he pulled her in, instantly wrapping his arms around her, and holding on tightly. She could feel her shirt become wet and the silent sobs that came out of his lips. He holds on tightly to her; he feared the coming future. He was scared of losing her, he couldn’t handle losing another person in his life.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner. I’m sorry.” He spoke in a hushed voice, and in between the sentence, hiccups would escape his mouth. She circled her arms around him and return the hug, though hers was gentler, made to soothe Peter. The scent sends her heart into a frenzy and it hurt when she realized how this may be the last time she was ever going to be this close to him. “Please, don’t take the surgery. You said it was risky right? That most of the time, the surgery doesn’t work.”

“There’s a 20% chance I might survive. It’s risky, but I’m willing to bet on it.”

“Don’t take it, please. There has to be another way.” He begged.

Y/n shook her head in his shoulder. “I’m taking the surgery, Pete. It’s for the better.”

Peter’s silent sobs echoed around the room, and he held onto her even tighter. He refused to accept it. He doesn’t want to the fact that he was about to lose Y/n too. She rubbed soothing circles around his back, and Y/n can tell it was working. His breathing was slowly becoming steady.

“You should go back to the apartment, Pete. You’re tired, you need rest.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Pete.” She sighed, “You have to go home. May will be wondering where you are. And you need sleep.”

“I’ll sleep here with you.” His voice was muffled by the cloth of her shirt.

“Stop being so stubborn, Pete.”

“I’m not- “

She pulled away from the hug, holding both shoulders in her hands with a hard look on her face. Her eyes were still red from crying and was sniffling a bit, but the authority she held in her voice made her look so strong. “You are going home. That’s final Peter. Don’t make me fly your ass back to the apartment.”

If this was a different situation, Peter would’ve laughed at her. She always found Y/n’s foul mouth entertaining. She was a bit smaller than he was and watching her curse with a hot head made her look like an angry puppy, punk-ass sprites from that one Pixar movie. But it wasn’t. The air still held the same tension, and both still couldn’t stop themselves from crying.

Although he didn’t approve of leaving, he had to comply. Peter nodded and broke away from the hug. She ushered him to her window and Peter settled himself on the wide window ledge. He took a moment and stayed for a bit. He didn’t want to leave just yet. But the pleading eyes Y/n gave him made him sigh.

Peter pulled his mask down and jumped off, swinging into the night. Y/n stayed watching by her window, making sure he was heading off back to his apartment. Once he was out of sight, laid back in her bed and lets out a heavy sigh. The memory of Peter’s sob and the feel of his arms wrapped tight around her made her remember the time when Tony died. It was painful, and everything reminded her of that awful memory. Minutes later, Peter’s message lit up her phone, notifying her that he was back at the apartment safe. She typed back a reply, only keeping it short.

Okay. Get some rest.

And placed it back on her nightstand. She didn’t want to type out anything longer as it just be harder for her to fall asleep with the already heavy feeling in her chest. She turned on her side and switch off the light.

***

 The next day, Y/n woke up to the sound of giggling and bouncing. The high-pitched voice very familiar to her. She immediately recognized the voice that belonged to her little sister, Morgan. All though she had only met her on the day of their father’s funeral, she became attached to the five-year-old in an instant. She loves the little girl to bits, and almost everything she did reminded her of her late father.

“Y/n! Y/n, Y/n, Y/nnnn! Wake up!” she bounced on the bed, shaking her sister’s body. “Mommy is making breakfast!” to the little girl’s dismay, the teen only groaned and covered her head with a pillow. The young Stark huffed and went to Y/n’s side, opening one of her eyes. “Big Sis, wake uuuupp!!”

She sighed in defeat, sitting up on her bed.  “All right, all right. I’m up.” A sweet smile makes its way on little Morgan face and she squeals when her sister picked her up from the bed as they make their way downstairs. “Are you feeling better now Y/n? Are the petals and blood gone?” Morgan asked sweetly, looking at her with her doe-like eyes that were always full of curiosity and mischief. It was a trait in the Stark family, and like Y/n, Morgan had inherited their father’s eyes.

“A little, but I’ll be fine soon.”

“You were crying last night. Did something happen?”

Y/n shakes her head. “Just a bad dream Mo. Nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe I can sleep with you next time. That way you won’t get bad dreams!”  her face light up at the idea. Morgan had grown to love sleeping in her sister’s room, and vice versa. Something about having someone to tell her stories until she falls asleep, to keep the nightmares at bay, and to wake up beside her big sister. She could only mirror the smile Morgan had on her face and agreed with her.

Once they reached the common area, Pepper was already setting up a plate of pancakes and a bowl of berries on the kitchen table. Sam and Bucky were settled at the living room, watching the television as they ate their breakfast, Rhodey was already finished with breakfast and was making his way out to who knows where, while Wanda was settled on a stool, eating the pancakes Pepper had made beforehand.

“G’morning Mommy!” Morgan bellowed at the strawberry blonde who walked towards them and kissed both of their heads in greeting, ruffling Y/n’s hair to wake her senses up, along with the smell of freshly made pancakes to make her stomach grumble. “Y/n was hard to wake up. But I did it! So, mission accomplished!”

“That you did, sweetie. Great job!” Pepper cooed.

Y/n groaned as she held the sides of her head, “My head is pounding. I’m gonna go make coffee.” It was a daily ritual for her. Every morning she would wake up to Morgan bouncing on her bed and make her disoriented for a bit and leave her a bit wooly. She excused herself from the kitchen island and made her way towards the coffee maker. She doubled the amount of coffee since Sam and Bucky would want some too. Too engrossed with the smell and making her cup, she didn’t notice the presence of her Stepmother standing her.

“Your eyes are red. Did something happen?” she asked, worry laced in the tone.

“Yeah. I just had a bad dream is all.” Y/n shook her head.

“I heard Peter’s voice.  Both of you were crying at dawn, Y/n.” She held her breath. Of course Pepper heard. She slept at Morgan’s room last night. Y/n can’t exactly lie to Pepper, nor can she keep a secret from her for a long period of time. The woman had a knack for knowing what’s running through Y/n’s mind, what she was hiding and when she was hiding it. It made Pepper look like she was her biological mother after all this time.

Y/n chuckles jokingly, the infamous smirk slowly appearing on her lips. “Alright, you got me Pep.” She didn’t reply at her. Only kept silent with an expectant look that tells her to continue and share what had happened in the middle of the night. She lets out a breath, “I had another episode that night. While I was in the bathroom, Peter came into my room, and he saw… everything. I told him about the Hanahaki and the surgery. He didn’t take it too well.” Y/n didn’t want to elaborate everything. Peter’s cries and pleads were still fresh in her memory. If she stretched the story further, it’ll start over again. And she already had enough for one day.

Pepper took her in for a hug and place a comforting hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly. “He was gonna find out sooner or later, you know that Y/n.”

She sighs, “Yeah.”

Pepper kissed her forehead lovingly and held both her shoulders, “Peter cares so much about you. He’ll understand.”  Y/n could only hope he would. Deep down, Pepper didn’t really want her to do the surgery. She had thought of another possible way, but it was too much to ask for. Stephen had already said the operation would be very risky, so that was already crossed out of her list… But she then thought of Tony. If he was still here, he would’ve taken the chance on getting Y/n to go into surgery, pull all-nighters every day, just so he could save his daughter. So, Pepper agreed to Y/n’s choice.

The morning continued with the usual routine; Wanda playing her guitar, learning new songs or writing whenever inspiration hit her, Sam taking rounds around the compound to make sure there were no intruders, and Bucky would be training for hours in the gym. Y/n used to go with Bucky to train more on her physicality and fighting techniques. But ever since she came back from the trip, Stephen and Pepper had banned her from stepping foot in the gym.

So she went to her lab. Tinkering her suit and sketching some ideas that would randomly come into her mind. Morgan kept her company most of the time. The little girl would wear the prototype helmets for her suit and would impersonate her and their father (she mostly did Tony), play with Dum-E, or sit beside her and observe to just pass the time. Y/n felt like having a tail, and she didn’t mind Morgan’s company, not one bit. She needed someone to get her mind off of Peter after all. And for the past few weeks of keeping her distance from the arachnid, Morgan had replaced the hole that Peter left in her heart.

***

By the time the sun went down, Y/n’s stomach began to rumble. She told Morgan to go fetch some snacks for them so they can eat it in the lab. But too engrossed in her work, Y/n failed to notice that her sister had already been gone for an hour. She looked at her watch. It was time for dinner anyway, so she left her things and journeyed back to the common living room. She could hear her sister’s giggles from the stairs and another voice that made her heart feel unsteady. Her feet stopped moving when she saw Peter, happily playing with Morgan who was on his back and arms looped around his neck. They were running around the living room and Peter made horse noises to make the roleplay believable. It was a sight to see, something that would warm her heart and swell.

Morgan’s eyes lit up when she noticed her big sister in the room. “Y/n!” She exclaimed, and Peter stood up straight as the little girl brought his attention to Y/n. Both of their eyes read the same expression. His eyes were better than before, no red and not puffy anymore. He looked well, compared to Y/n’s tired one’s.

The little girl climbed down the teen’s back and ran towards her sister, pulling at her arm to meet Peter in between. “Mommy told me to keep Peter company while she cooked dinner! He’s the horse while I’m the princess.” her giddiness showing in the little hops that she does. Morgan didn’t know about the feelings she has for Peter, but ever since he first saw him at the funeral, then his visits to the compound, she loved seeing her sister and her friend together. And more often than not Morgan teased her with Peter. The little rascal had a glint in her eyes and Y/n could only pray that Morgan doesn’t do her teasing in front of him.

“You should join us Y/n! You can be the Queen and Peter will be the Knight.”

As if on cue, Wanda called from the dining table for dinner. She was helping Pepper set up the table with the dishes they made. Bucky was already on his seat and Sam was making juice in the kitchen. It was rare for the Avengers to be sitting in the dining table along with the Starks. They mostly ate take outs and Wanda’s cooking if she wasn’t too lazy. They were lucky enough to have Pepper to cook for them when she wasn’t working late, and today was one of those days.

“You should join us Peter. We have an extra seat left.” Pepper came in with a pot in her hand as sets it down on the table.

Peter glances at Y/n, looking for signs of defiance, or anything that tells him not to stay. But she doesn’t say anything, instead, she jerks her head towards the table and led Morgan, he followed shortly after.

Shock flashed in everybody’s eyes when they saw Y/n coming in with Peter in tow but was quickly masked with a warm smile. “Here Peter, saved you a seat.” Rhodey patted to the one next to him. Y/n sat on the other side of the table, and it was obvious she wasn’t meeting Peter’s gaze. Thankfully, the adults knew how to keep the tension at bay. They included them in the conversation every once in a while. Peter tried to be more social to try and lighten Y/n’s mood, but she was still and quiet as a statue.

When she finished, she pushed off her seat and kissed Morgan’s temple. “I’ll be up in my room. Goodnight everyone.” She quickly made her way up the stairs. Something about Peter’s presence set off her mood. She thought she had already figured everything out in the past few hours she’s been cooped up in the lab, turns out she hadn’t. She had been avoiding it. And now that Peter was here (again), she didn’t know what to do. She was positive there was something he wanted to discuss. And handling another talk about her condition and their friendship was something she doesn’t want to do for the second time this day.

She heard a rap on her door and the person behind it didn’t mind waiting for a reply. Peter turned the knob and entered, closing the door behind him. “We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing else to talk about, Pete.” She avoided his eyes. “I told you, there’s no other way. I’m taking the surgery whether you have a say in it or not.”

“But there is a way.” He took a step forward, the same glimmer of hope in his eyes when he held her hand. “Y/n, I figured it out. You don’t have to take the surgery.”

She looked at him cluelessly, not following on what he’s getting at. “You ‘figured it out’? Peter, I don’t understand.”

“I wanna learn how to love you.”

Her eyes slowly widen, and she pulled her hands towards her and slowly backed away from Peter. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I’m not Y/n. I want to save you.”

Y/n gave a bitter laugh. She had a hunch that Peter would think of that, she just didn’t believe something like that could happen, until now. “Peter, you can’t learn to love someone.”

“But what if I can? You’re not hard to love after all.”

Her hands ran through her hair, pursing her lips. “It doesn’t work that way Pete! And I’m not gonna let you ruin your relationship with MJ for this.” She started pushing him towards the door. It was already enough that he found out about her condition, but offering such a thing just to save her? Y/n’s already had it. She wanted to do it, deep down. But she decided against it. Peter was better off with MJ anyway. And if the surgery’s a success, she wouldn’t have to feel that pain anymore.

It was a win-win for the both.

Peter stood his ground and remained in the same place. “Why are you being stubborn? I’m trying to save you from this Y/n! I got you in this and I want to get you out of it!”

“Peter, it’s not your obligation to do this.”

“But it is! It is Y/n! I look at you and all I feel is I-I just have to, okay! Why won’t you just let me?”

“Because I don’t want you to!” She yelled out in frustration.

Heaves of heavy breaths fall from her lips, and the hard look she once had soften. “I don’t want you to force yourself to love me, Peter. It all comes out naturally, you know that. And I deserve more than that.” She took a step forward and was hesitant to take his hand in his. She decided to shove it in the pockets of her sweater instead. “Look, I’m content with what we already have Pete. Really, I am. I’m happy knowing that you finally have MJ as your girlfriend, I’m happy that you’re becoming better and better every day with your new suit, and I’m happy to see you becoming the man Dad had always seen in you ever since you first met. I’m happy with the thought of you as my friend, Pete. That you love me and care for me, just as how Dad did. And I’m okay with that. I’m okay with everything.”

It was silent for a moment, until Peter spoke breathlessly. “But is it enough to save you?”

The air got caught in her throat. She wanted to tell him ‘No. It wouldn’t.’. But if she did, Peter wasn’t going to let his option off the table. Tears started welling up in her eyes and when the hot trail rand down her cheek, she quickly swiped it away with her thumb. She didn’t notice Peter was slowly inching towards her, the distance between them becoming dangerously close. His breath fanned over her face and Peter lifted his hand to push away the baby hairs that stuck out of the unkept bun she made. He could feel her heart spike and her anxiety radiating off. He held her hand and place the other on her cheek in hopes to keep her calm at the proximity between them. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, but he kept the same eyes trained on her, and behind it was something Y/n couldn’t read. As she was about to step back, Peter had already caught on and pulled her in before she could walk away.

Peter’s lips were soft. It looked soft even if she eyed it for a few moments, every time he pursed it when focusing, or wetting it with his tongue when he feels nervous and awkward. The feeling of his lips on hers made her body buzz and eyes cloud in haze. His lips felt soft, but this kiss was hard. Although Y/n’s heart was pounding, she didn’t feel any affection through the kiss. His features had already displayed the feeling; desperation, anger, sadness - all of it in a mix. His brows were furrowed, and Y/n could see a tear peeking underneath his eye.

If it were a normal setting, she would’ve kissed back. If she didn’t have the Hanahaki, If Peter did love her truly, if he wasn’t dating MJ, she would’ve melted in the kiss and loop her arms around him and play with the baby hairs on the back of his neck.

But it wasn’t. This is wrong.

She put her hand on his chest and pushed him forcefully, making him tumble. Shock and hurt painted on her face as she grazed her lips with her fingers. Her lips still buzzed with the feeling of Peter’s lips. She raised her chin and connected her eyes with his. “Why did you do that?” her voice was pained, soft, and regret laced in it.

“I wanted to.” He spoke truthfully.

He took a sure step towards her, taking out his hand to reach out but she pushes it away. The soft and pained look in her eyes transitioned into a hard-cold glare, hands tightened in fists, and lips start trembling. The tears were about to fall, and she didn’t want Peter to watch her and try comforting her.

What he did was already upsetting enough.

“Get out Peter.” She growled.

“I’m not leaving. Not until we finish talking— “

“Get the fuck out of my room Parker! I’m done talking about it! Get out!” She pushed him harder this time, but he didn’t move. Fucking super strength. He wasn’t making it any easier. She started punching him pathetically. Y/n knew she was already looking like an idiot, but Peter fucked her up. Bad.

“Leave Peter! I’m done! And don’t come back here again!”

“Y/n- “

“GET OUT!” She shoved his body hard enough to lead him to the hallway. The doors immediately shut and clicked before Peter could even get back to his feet and push it open. She can hear the knocks from the other side of the door and his voice calling out to her, telling her to open it and talk it out. But she was done with talking. And now her feelings and her senses are getting fucked up because of his stupid kiss. Y/n wanted to sob, wanted to bawl her eyes out like any normal teenager does when their hearts get broken.

But she didn’t.

She climbed in the bed and covered herself underneath the sheets and pillows.  The sound behind her door was drowned out, and Y/n lulled herself to sleep. Fuck these feelings. Fuck her stupid heart. Fuck this disease.

Fuck Peter Parker for messing her up.

***

Over the course of the following days, Y/n ignored all of Peter’s attempts to make contact. Her phone ringed and buzzed for days, but not once did she pick up his calls. Her windows and blinds were shut in case he attempted to climb through the window. And his visits were no longer welcome. She made sure to lock her door unless no one else was inside the compound.

When surgery day came, she didn’t hear her phone sound off a notification from Peter. No calls, No messages. It was a quiet morning, which was a relief for Y/n. Pepper knocked on her door to let her know that Stephen and Christine will be coming in a few hours. They’ll run a few tests and proceed with the surgery. Her stomach felt empty, and the low rumble of her belly didn’t make it any easier. She was only allowed to drink a few glasses of water from time to time. God, I just want this to be over.

A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts and she mumbled a soft ‘Come in’. Wanda peeked from her door with a gentle smile on her face. “Someone’s here for you.” Her heartbeat quickened and her temper rose.

“If it’s Peter, tell him to go fuck himself. I don’t plan on talking to him anytime soon.”

The witch shakes her head, “It’s not Peter.”

Her brows furrowed, confused. “Who is it then?”  Who else would be visiting her? She wasn’t expecting anyone else. Wanda jerked her head inside the room and the mysterious visitor pushed the door open. The familiar long brown curls and the tanned complexion slowly unveiled behind the white door, and the I-don’t-give-a-fuck aura entered the room. Her stomach drop and the tension rose. There was another person she didn’t want to see, and it was the person now standing in front. Michelle stood with her usual cool and composed posture, but Y/n was the total opposite.

“So, I heard you’re getting a surgery?”

-

part 3 of Spring Day

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[tododekukiribakux]

Never Fallen from Quite This High

[PROMPT:  one-shot about Can being jealous and Tin dealing with that. From: Maoshi over at Ao3 THANK YOU <3] They were friends, damn near best friends.

At least, to everyone else they were.  It wasn’t exactly how he wanted it, but while Can adjusted to the idea of having a boyfriend (though two months in Tin wasn’t sure how much adjusting he needed)  and while he adjusted to having something he was terrified Tul would try to harm, they were keeping their relationship quiet.  There were only a few people that didn’t seem to believe that was all they were, Pete of course was forever questioning what was going on between them, and with Pete came his Thai Program boyfriend who didn’t seem to like it when Pete questioned it, but he could sense him watching.  Protecting.  Ridiculous, since he’d ruin anyone who so much as touched a single hair on Can’s head.  Unfortunately for everyone else, the threat was not only real, Tin had the means to do it and enough hurt buried in him to do so without remorse.  Can was the only thing that kept him together, his life line, the one person who stomped out the raging fires before they could spread, offering calm instead and all he needed was to look at him to find peace.

He hated it being a secret, but there was one benefit that came along with it.  Can jealous was just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life.  He had no cause to be jealous, his heart was Can’s, he’d already made it very clear that he was head-over-heels in love with him, much to Can's embarrassment.  That had been cute as well, and so he said it whenever he was sure no one was listening, just to see the way Can’s face would heat up, watch him slap his hands over his face… and every now and again announce that he thought he was going to shit over it.  

The jealousy came in different forms, it came whenever a girl was a bit too persistent in trying to get his number.  Somehow the news always reached Can’s ears, and he most certainly didn’t find a way to make sure it did.  He’d later find his boyfriend waiting for him, a pout already formed on his lips, his arms crossed in frustration.  

It sometimes came simply because his little sister seemed to think there was something going on between him and Pete.  Can hated the way she shipped them, even when Tin tried to point out that it was actually kind of funny that while she was shipping him with Pete, he was making out with her older brother just outside of her notice.  After being denied so many kisses, after Can tried so hard to fight against them… they could hardly keep their lips off of each other now.  It made hiding the relationship difficult, but he got a thrill out of seeing just how far they could push it before they got caught.  He had a suspicion that Can did too.  That or he was just far too jealous to stop it.  Which was exactly how they’d ended up kissing just under the football stands, around the corner from where she was talking about how cute Pete was.  Can had initiated that kiss, he’d practically attacked his mouth, and thus far it was one of Tin’s top five favorites that they’d shared.  

Thanks to Ley, the jealousy even came when he talked to Pete.  Did Tin talk to him perhaps just a bit more to get a rise out of Can?  Certainly not.  Of course not.  He wouldn’t ever.  It benefited Pete as well, at least, because as they stood talking, and in truth they were only talking about a project they had to work on together, he could see both Can and Ae out of the corner of his eyes, both with clenched fists, both pointedly staring and not discussing what they were angry about.  Can because he couldn’t, Ae because well… who knew, he didn’t try to understand Pete’s little boyfriend.  

“When you finish your portion of the information gathering, can you email it to me?  I’ll put it together with mine and then we can figure it out from there?” Pete’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he offered an indifferent nod of his head.

“I’m almost done, I’ll get it to you tomorrow,” he shrugged, checking his phone as he glanced towards Can, who was now facing away, his hand pointing towards the field as he spoke with Pete’s boyfriend.  Pete himself cheerfully agreed that getting his part of the assignment the next day worked, but something else had his attention, his hand over his mouth as he stifled the laughter that was shaking his shoulders. “What is it, now?”  He questioned, his voice bored - he didn’t actually care, in truth, but he figured Pete was probably going to tell him anyway.  Whatever was making him laugh was on his phone, Pete’s eyes were locked on it.

“Are you very sure you and Can aren’t… you know… together?”  The words were giggled, an actual damn giggle.  His eyes roamed back over to where the guy that actually was his boyfriend stood, his back was still facing away.  But he noted that Can also had his phone in hand. Tin slowly looked back to Pete’s phone as his curiosity piqued.  What did Can’s crazy ass do now?

“Last I checked we were not, as I’ve told you before.  He’s a good friend.”  That didn’t seem to put a stop to the flow of giggles, they only increased as Pete handed his phone over for Tin to look at, instagram already pulled up on it’s screen.

“Scroll back up a bit, Can… find Can,” it didn’t take long, it never did, he had his profile picture, his account name committed to memory.  It was Tin now biting back a laugh, a picture of him and Can that they’d taken just after one of his games showing as his latest update.  There wasn’t anything about it that screamed that they were dating, his arm was around Can, and he was actually smiling for a change while Can positively beamed.  What did make it seem like something was going on was the caption, and the fact that Lemon had not only been tagged but had commented demanding an explanation that Can argued against.   

The caption said nothing more than MY friend, the word my in all caps as though he was trying to prove a point.  Lemon tagged just beside it. The comments below were a small sibling argument that had Tin stuck biting the side of his hand as he read it, both to stop the smile and to keep himself grounded.  

==

“Something wrong, Cantaloupe?” He questioned as they made their way into his bedroom, his boyfriend immediately dropping his bag unceremoniously on the floor and flopping himself dramatically on his bed.  He knew what was wrong, he’d known earlier in the day from his actions, from the picture he’d posted where Ley had demanded to know why he cared who she shipped him with.  The pout hadn’t left his lips since, and Tin only saw one real solution.  As far as he was concerned, Tul could go straight to hell, it wasn’t like he’d ever allow him near Can anyway.  Therefore, the metaphorical ball was left with Can, he could either send it towards the goal - the goal that let everyone know they were together, that they were in love even if Can had yet to utter the words, or he could keep dribbling the ball and allowing his jealousy to grow.

Tin, for his part, was very much hoping he’d be the strong football player he knew he was and kick that ball as hard as he could towards the net.

“You’re MY boyfriend!  Not Ai’Pete’s!  Or anyone else's, it makes me so mad,” he could see that, and though he tried to sympathize with the man laying on his bed, he couldn’t help but smile as he kicked his legs wildly in frustration, the loud oiiiiii sounding through the air.  

“All yours, forever, so what’s the problem?” He was egging it on just slightly, pretending he didn’t know the problem, but of course he did.  Still, Tin sat down beside where Can lay, raising his eyebrows as he was glared at.

“No one knows!  Ley has people thinking you might be with Pete!  Then there’s that girl that’s always talking to you. I heard someone ask someone else if you were dating her and they said they thought you might be!  But you aren’t!”  Tin reached a hand out, gently cupping Can’s face as he leaned down, brushing his lips over his.  

“So tell the world.  Correct your post, I’m not your friend Can.”  Can lay in silence, Tin’s face staying quite close as he watched his expression shift.  Wide eyes turned to determination, and though Can never said the words, he wore his emotions clearly on his face.  He wanted to hear those three words so badly, but seeing the love written there plain as day was enough.  For now.

“Will you take a picture with me, Tin?”  

“You don’t even have to ask.  You just have to send it to me.” Can’s phone was in his hand the moment he said he would, the camera opened.  What Tin had expected was the typical picture they so often took, side by side, eyes turned towards the camera (though admittedly, more often than not, his own eyes ended up on Can), one of them with a wide smile and the other with the smallest of smiles.  Tin started to sit up for that very picture, surprised as he was pulled back down, Can’s lips crashing into his, his fingers immediately tangling in his hair.  The picture was forgotten, his eyes falling shut as he eagerly returned the kiss, as he breathed him in.  The shutter sound as a picture was taken was what caused him to break away, his eyes on Can’s phone as he saw a picture of them kissing up on the screen.

Before anything else, Can pulled up his texts, sending the picture to Tin before he pulled up instagram.  Not only did he feel complete shock, but a wave of relief watching his boyfriend post a picture of them kissing, a caption this time in all caps that only said MY BOYFRIEND with not only Ley tagged, but him this time.  He felt a surge of pride, of love, as he watched the smile that spread over Can’s face.  Tin moved to lay beside him, his own phone in his hand as he saved the picture, and before Can could stop him, posted it to his own instagram.

Except his caption was a bit more.  

I love you, Cantaloupe.

[searchingforstarss]

you held your pride like you should have held me

by @searchingforstarss for @irondad-is-cannon-bitch, written for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange - i took your argument prompt, added in a little whump and here we are! i hope you enjoy this <3

rating: teen 

relationships: peter parker & tony stark, peter parker & tony stark & james rhodes

characters: peter parker, tony stark, james rhodes, bruce banner

summary: “I had to take the risk!” Peter snaps. “I saved your life.”

Tony’s stare hardens. “Yeah, and nearly ended your goddamn own. This isn’t a trade-off. It wasn’t your call to make.”

You would have done the same thing to protect me,” Peter points out. Tony just seethes at the statement.

“I don’t care about what you think I would have done. You are not me. And I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself."

or, as the timer ticked down, Peter knew his only option was to take things into his own hands. He just didn’t expect Tony to be mad at him for saving his life.

read on ao3

“What’s our game plan for tonight?”

“Our what?”

“Our game plan.”

“Kid, I don’t think I’ve ever had a game plan in my life,” Tony says as he tips blueberries into the blender. “I kind of just… do.”

He looks up towards where Peter is perched on the benchtop, letting himself be distracted for a moment. Almost the entire punnet of blueberries ends up in the blender and he curses, reaching in to scoop a handful back out.

“I was talking to FRIDAY earlier-”

“Oh, were you now?”

Peter nods his head, completely ignoring Tony’s snark. He’s learned to let it all roll off his back by now. “Yeah, she was telling me all about the guys we’re going after and well, I was thinking that since I’ve seen Chitauri tech up close and all - not that you haven’t, with the whole New York thing-” Peter cuts his ramblings off, stopping short when he realises that was probably the wrong thing to bring up. Tony’s leaning up against the bench, watching him carefully. His face remains carefully schooled, but Peter’s quick enough to catch the slight wince that flashes across his face for a second. The two of them don’t really talk about New York. That day was distressing enough for Peter, being separated from May and Ben in the midst of the panic, let alone for Tony who flew a literal nuke through a hole in space. “I, uh, anyway,” Peter resumes awkwardly, “what I mean is since I’ve seen what they do with the weapons, surely that means I should go in first and scope out the-”

Tony turns around. “No.”

Before Peter can open his mouth to speak again, Tony switches the blender on, the room filling with noise.

Okay. Rude.

“What do you mean, no?” Peter asks as soon as Tony turns the blender off again. Tony turns to him, a tired expression settled into the lines on his face like he’s been expecting this argument.

“When I said you could come along, I meant to get a feel for what’s going on. Get a little bit of field experience under your belt. But from a distance. I don’t want you in the middle of anything.”

Peter tries to school his features into a neutral expression and not let them fall into the petulant frown he can feel coming on. “How is it field experience if I’m stuck outside the whole time?”

Tony’s been hesitant about letting Peter come along on these types of things, so when he finally agreed to let Peter tag along with him and Rhodey to bust an illegal Chitauri weapons ring, this wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. He can be useful, he knows he can - especially since he’s seen these weapons up close, he knows what they can do.

“You gotta learn teamwork, kid. We always need someone out there watching our six.”

Tony turns to get a couple of glasses out of the cabinet above him. Peter slips off the counter and steps closer to him. “But I can do more than that! I'm practically an Avenger!”

“An honorary one at most, maybe. More like the team mascot.”

Peter frowns. “You did offer me a place on the team, you know, just in case you forgot.”

Tony tenses almost imperceptibly. “Yes, we are forgetting. That was irresponsible of me and I’ve since retracted said offer. My terms are that once you finish high school, then we’ll talk Avengers. You know this, Pete.”

Peter sighs. He knows that Tony worries. The older man is still meticulous about making sure he picks up Peter’s every phone call and insisting that he pops into the tower to check-in after each patrol (okay, maybe that one only came about after Peter tried to hide a broken arm for a couple of days but he really did have it all handled), even though it’s almost been a year since Toomes.

They’re closer now. Peter always thought the closer they got the more trust Tony would have in him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not qualified to save the world until high school has provided me with the necessary skills, like reciting the entirety of Shakespeare’s discography and knowing how to list everything in my backpack in Spanish, got it,” Peter grumbles.

“Did you just refer to Shakespeare’s plays as his discography?” Tony looks incredulous, his eyes widening almost comically, but Peter just groans again, tipping his head back in frustration.

“Of course that’s all you got from that. I was trying to show you that high school is pointless in the grand scheme of things, Mister Stark. I could be useful! You know I could.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Pete. You finish school, get the piece of paper and let me take at least a dozen photos of you wearing one of those stupid-looking graduation caps. That’s my price for putting in a good word for you with the Avengers.”

“You basically are the Avengers.”

“I’m sure the others would be very offended to hear you say that.”

Peter shrugs, unbothered. Tony takes a moment to turn around and divide the smoothie up between the two glasses before speaking again. “Look, I’m going to be totally honest with you right now, okay Pete? This is something that Rhodey and I are doing for SHIELD, and-”

“You can’t not let me come,” Peter interjects. It’s taken him months of wheedling to convince Tony that he’s finally ready for the big stuff. Peter twists a few fingers into the fabric of his hoodie, suddenly nervous that Tony might change his mind completely.

Tony sighs. “I’m not going back on my word. I just don’t want you involved with SHIELD before you have to be. Which means for a little while, you’ve just gotta lay low and watch and learn. I need you to trust me on this one.”

Peter knows that it’s time to drop it as soon as he sees the pleading look on Tony’s face - pleading with Peter to just listen to him. He gives Tony a small smile. Tonight, he’ll just have to try and show Tony that he can be useful. That he can listen to directions. That he’s worth keeping around.

“Plus, if I let you get hurt May will probably kick my ass all the way from, where is she with her college buddies this weekend? Ohio?”

“Oregon, Mister Stark,” Peter corrects.

“Exactly. That’s what I meant. Now drink up,” Tony says, pressing a smoothie into Peter’s hands. All the purple from the blueberries has been lost in amongst the green from the spinach and kale that Tony undoubtedly shoved in there when Peter wasn’t looking. It’s disappointingly healthy-looking. “Oh, don’t look at it like that,” Tony chastises good-naturedly. “You need your energy for tonight.”

“I’m not even doing anything but sitting there.”

“You’re gonna keep an eye out. That’s an important job, kiddo. Real high stakes.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Just count your blessings it’s not a school night, otherwise your ass would be doing nothing apart from sitting at home.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the lamest person on the planet?”

---

“And you’re both totally sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

Tony shoots Peter a sharp glance. Peter thinks he hears Rhodey stifling a laugh.

“We’re sure,” Tony says firmly.

Night has fallen to give them a cover of darkness as they stand in front of the warehouse. In Peter’s opinion, he’s not sure it looks particularly like a dangerous criminal hideout. This whole place looks like nothing more than a regular old warehouse district, the type that you would never look twice at when driving by on the highway.

“We shouldn’t be any longer than half an hour, kid,” Tony promises. He eyes the run-down looking side door they’re standing in front of. “All we have to do is get the weapons out of here, and I don’t think we have a whole lot of security to contend with.”

As if proving his point, he takes aim at the rusty lock and chain over the door and blasts it with his repulsor. The whole thing unravels and falls to the ground with a dull clunk.

“I was right. As usual.”

Rhodey rolls his eyes, but his military instincts keep his eyes trained firmly on the door, watching in case something - or rather, someone - that they’re not expecting comes to greet them. Tony, on the other hand, is much more relaxed.

He turns to face Peter, “You know what to do?” he asks.

“Yep. Watch the perimeter. Tell you straight away if I see anything sketchy,” Peter answers, repeating what Tony drilled into him on the way here.

“And?” Tony prompts. Peter groans.

“Stay out of trouble.”

“That’s right,” Tony nods, satisfied. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Be careful,” Peter says after them, “and good luck!”

Tony shoots him a cocky grin. “Always, kid. And keep your luck, I don’t need it. Never have. I’m Tony St-”

“Get your ass in here, Tony,” Rhodey calls over his shoulder, voice echoing from where he’s already disappeared into the warehouse. Tony’s smile widens and he turns away from Peter, ducking through the doorway.

Peter watches them as they disappear into the darkness of the building. The door creaks shut slowly behind them, and for a split second, he considers following after them. They won’t notice, especially if he’s as quiet as possible. Plus, if he manages to take down a few of the arms dealers then Tony could never be mad at him for not listening. It would be awesome.

He lets himself revel in the glory of his daydream for a moment longer before he shakes himself out of it. He’s being stupid. He knows what his mission is. It’s to keep watch - nothing else.

He shoots a web up towards the roof of the building before he can change his mind and swings himself up.

---

Peter tries his hardest to patrol diligently for the first thirty minutes.

He paces the roof back and forth, watching out for any suspicious activity, but the warehouse district remains empty. The most exciting thing he sees is a racoon walking along the fence line. He jumps to alert at one point as a metallic sound catches in the wind and echoes through the night, but it just turns out to be a stray soda can being blown across the concrete.

A small part of him almost hopes that a nefarious looking figure slinks out of the shadows and tries to take their raid down just so that he can do something. How is he ever going to impress Tony if all he can say he’s done is hang out on a rooftop and watch cars go past on the Long Island Expressway?

---

After forty-five minutes, it all starts to get a bit dull. He’s not sure what’s taking Tony and Rhodey so long.

He tried to count the cars whizzing by on the expressway briefly, but all the bright lights gave him a headache after a while. He practised a few of the new web-shooter combinations that he and Tony dreamt up last week, and then once there’s webbing sprayed across a section of the roof he spends a good ten minutes with solvent trying to dissolve it all just to give him something else to do. 

Now, he’s resorted to having Karen help him practice for his Spanish quiz on Friday just to pass the time.

“How would you describe your family, Peter?” Karen asks him. Peter kicks at a bit of gravel mindlessly as he walks along the roofline, thinking.

“Uh,” Peter pauses, “Mi familia es pequeña. Mi tia se llama May. Mi tía es muy… amable? La quiero mucho.”

“That’s right, Peter,” Karen praises, but he’s startled out of his practice by his comms crackling to life in his ear for the first time tonight.

“Peter?” It’s not just Tony checking in like Peter guessed it might be, but Rhodey instead. His voice is tense and Peter’s on alert immediately. “Come in, Peter. Are you still outside? We-”

“Of course I’m still here, ” Peter rushes out, almost offended that they thought he might ditch. “I’m on the roof. What’s happening?”

“We need you to get down here.”

Peter pauses. Is this a trick? Some kind of test? They told him to stay out here, to keep watch. But Tony wouldn’t do this to him, surely?

“But, Mister Stark said-”

“Tony is not in a position to be calling the shots right now,” Rhodey says firmly.

“Is he-”

“Peter. Please,” Rhodey says, more steel in his voice than Peter has ever heard from the man. “Just get in here.”

Okay. No more questions.

He can do that.

“Got it.”

Peter vaults off the roof, jogging around to where he vaguely remembers the entrance being. Anxiety buzzes through him. Tony is not in a position to be calling the shots right now. What does that even mean? Peter’s brain runs away from him before he can help it. What if Tony’s been hurt? Images of him lying on the ground, bleeding and broken, flash through his mind but he tries to shove them down as he heads inside.

The warehouse is just a series of vast empty rooms, high ceiling and rickety walls which don’t look very structurally sound. Peter makes his way through a few of them, each one just as deserted as the last. He can hear hushed voices though, Tony and Rhodey, so he follows the sound.

They’re arguing, Peter realises when he steps into the room. They’re backed into a corner, neither of them looking in his direction. Rhodey’s back is turned and Peter can only just catch a glimpse of Tony from over his shoulder. He looks like he’s standing upright, which instantly lays some of Peter’s anxieties to rest.

“I’ll burn you if I repulsor it off,” Rhodey hisses. “Just wait for Peter to get here.”

“Oh, don’t get me started on that. Peter shouldn’t even be here in the first place, you know he’s safer outside where-”

“He was on the roof, Tony. He would have been just as screwed as you and me.”

“Uh, hey, guys?” Peter says cautiously. As he makes his presence known, he sees Tony’s eyes whip up towards him, face paling significantly at the sight of him. “What’s going on?”

Peter isn’t exactly sure what he was expecting to find when he was called in - but as Rhodey sidesteps slightly, finally giving Peter a proper view of Tony, he realises it definitely wasn’t the Iron Man suit in a heap of metal on the floor, and Tony handcuffed to a drainpipe.

What the fuck?

He hurries over to their sides, trying not to feel sick at the sight of the thick metal clamped around Tony’s left wrist. He can’t stop staring at it though. For someone who apparently never needs a game plan, Peter’s pretty sure this wasn’t how Tony intended the night to go.

“How did this happen?” Peter blurts out before he can stop himself.

“That’s not important right now. You can’t be here.” Tony turns to Rhodey. “I told you, he can’t be here. I need you out of here, Peter, please.” The panic in Tony’s voice sends an uncomfortable shiver down Peter’s spine, despite how dramatic it feels. He’s not that incapable - he’ll be fine.

“Is anyone still here? Do you need me to go after anyone? Who chained you up? How did they even do that to the suit? What-”

“Peter,” Tony cuts him off sharply.

“You can't just expect me to walk in here and be totally cool with the fact that the suit is smashed up and you're chained to a wall,” Peter stresses, voice pitching slightly higher with confusion and maybe just a little bit of hysteria.

Tony huffs out a frustrated sigh. “Look, there a few of the guys running this place were still hanging around when we got in here. I split off from Rhodey and they caught up with me before I could even get a goddamn look at what sort of operation they’ve got going on. They told me to get out of the suit-”

“And you did?” Peter interrupts Tony incredulously, looking towards Tony. He never parts with his suits on missions like these, never.

“They had weapons - all their Chitauri shit would have fried the suit in a second - in fact it did,” Tony snaps, gesturing with his single unchained hand to the pile of charred metal. “It’s not exactly like I had a choice. And then they chained me up here while they made a getaway with all the illegal weapons we were supposed to be getting out of their hands.” Tony’s face crumples into one of defeat. “There you go. You’ve had your story. It's time for you to run along and put yourself to bed. Rhodey and I have got this handled, trust me.”

“Yeah, except you left out the part about the present our charming friends left us,” Rhodey deadpans. “We’re wasting time here, Tony. We just need Peter to give it a crack and then we’re out of here.”

God, there are so many things for Peter to unpack right there in that sentence. He focuses on the first thing that caught his attention, that makes foreboding simmer in his gut. “A present?”

Peter follows Rhodey’s eyes towards the centre of the room, noticing something that he hadn’t seen when he first walked in. It looks like a hunk of metal at first glance, a mess of wires snaking across the surface. It’s emitting an uneasy blue glow with Peter instantly recognises as Chitauri, the timer strapped to it flashing in the same hue.

It’s a bomb.

Tony’s earlier panic suddenly seems a lot less like dramatics and more so grounded in a situation that, in Peter’s mind, has grown very serious very quickly. He watches the numbers tick down.

3:03… 3:02… 3:01

Three minutes.

“Can’t we just... move it?” Peter asks. The suggestion sounds sort of stupid even to him because surely that would have been the first thing they thought of - but three minutes is more than enough time to get it far away enough that when it detonates, none of them will be in the hot zone.

Rhodey shakes his head grimly. “There’s no way to tell whether it’s rigged to blow if it’s moved. It’s not worth the risk.”

“What do you need me to do then?” Peter asks, suddenly hyper-aware that their time is dwindling with every second that ticks by.

“He doesn’t need to do anything,” Tony growls. “I told you, just repulsor them.”

“I’ll burn your damn hand off, Tony. I’m not doing that.” Rhodey turns to address Peter. “We just need you to try and pull the cuffs off. I couldn’t get it, but with your strength, if you can get them off then we’ll all be home free.”

No pressure then.

“I do not need Peter’s help, I need him to get the hell out of here,” Tony repeats. He sounds more frantic now but Peter just ignores him. Tony’s insane if he thinks he’s going to leave him here, cuffed in a room with an active bomb.

“Tony, you’re literally chained to a drainpipe. I don’t think we have any other options,” Rhodey says, before addressing Pete

“So I’m just your last resort? Jeez, thanks for the confidence boost guys, means a lot,” Peter mutters, joke falling flat as he takes a few steps closer to Tony, Rhodey moving out of the way to let him. Up close, Tony doesn’t look too banged up, or like he even put up a fight at all. The only sign of struggle at all is a pale bruise, just beginning to bloom underneath his right eye.

Two minutes.

Peter wraps one hand around Tony’s wrist - stomach twisting at the sight of blood from how furiously he’s been trying to get himself free - and the other around the chain of the cuffs. Tony eyes him warily. The only thing Peter can hear from this close up is Tony’s unsteady heartbeat and erratic breathing.

He yanks at the chain not yet quite daring to use his full strength out of fear of hurting Tony. It’s not enough. The cuffs don’t budge.

Peter tightens his grip on the metal. He pulls again, harder this time.

Still nothing.

“Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” Peter instructs Tony.

“You hurting me is the least of my worries right now,” Tony forces out.

Gritting his teeth, Peter channels as much of his strength into his arms as he can and he pulls and pulls and pulls.

Nothing. The chains don't budge or give even just a little. Peter’s not strong enough.

The realisation hits him like a freight train. He can’t do it.

“Vibranium,” Tony mutters darkly, “of fucking course.” The only metal Peter wouldn't be able to pull apart with his bare hands. Tony yanks at the cuffs as Peter steps back, guilty, embarrassed. The chain rattles against the metal of the pipe, echoing around the room.

There’s silence for a moment.

The resolve on Tony’s face breaks. He looks defeated, shaking his head to himself. He knows what’s coming for him. “I need you two to go. Now. Please. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“We’re not leaving you.”

“Rhodey. James,” Tony’s voice is desperate now, pleading. “I need you to take Peter and go.”

The timer ticks over again.

One minute.

Peter makes a decision. The only one there is left to make.

Even in the suit, he knows that Rhodey can’t move as quickly as him, and Tony, well, he can’t move anywhere at the moment. It has to be him.

As Tony continues to plead with Rhodey, Peter makes a few tentative steps towards the device, holding his breath - Rhodey’s words echoing in his head. There’s no way to tell whether it’s rigged to blow if it’s moved.

Two more steps closer. The timer continues, numbers flashing threateningly up at Peter. Fifty-one seconds. Fifty-one seconds left of all the rest of their lives if he doesn’t act now.

Peter’s hands are shaking as painstakingly slowly, he leans down to place a hand on the outside of the device. It’s hot to the touch, but the timer just continues counting down. Nothing happens. Tentatively still, he scoops the device up towards his chest. It doesn’t explode. 

He’s got a bomb in his arms. His heart thunders against his ribcage.

“Just shoot the cuffs with it, you complete-”

“Uh, I think I’ve got a better idea,” Peter offers, “turns out it doesn’t explode if you move it.” Both Tony and Rhodey’s eyes widen, turning towards him. “I’ll see you guys in a minute.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” Tony gasps. “Don’t you dare. Put that down. Right now.” His voice shakes with pure fear in a way that cuts right to Peter’s core. He yanks against the cuffs again, this time in Peter’s direction.

The metal of the bomb is growing hotter in Peter’s arms. He shakes his head.

“Peter,” Tony grits out, "no, no, no." He’s shaking uncontrollably now - whether from fear or anger, Peter’s not sure - as he turns to Rhodey. “What the fuck are you doing, just standing there? Get that thing off him.”

Forty seconds.

Peter’s eyes widen. Without a second more hesitation, he turns on his heel.

There’s an anguished yell from behind him, the distinct rattling of metal Peter’s gotten so used to over the past few minutes. He wants so desperately to turn around and tell Tony that it’s okay, that he knows what he’s doing, that he’s just trying to protect him.

But he doesn't have time.

He sprints.

Peter was always the slowest kid in class at elementary school. His asthma never helped - all the times that he was doubled up after running a couple of laps of the track didn’t exactly earn him many status points.

Since the bite, that’s never been a problem. Now Peter has to play down his abilities in gym class. He doesn’t play them down right now though. He can’t afford to. His legs move rapidly beneath him as he weaves through the rooms he distantly remembers coming through on his way in here, feet pounding against the concrete.

He’s outside now. Night air fills his lungs as he gasps for air, desperate for enough oxygen to sustain him at this pace.

He needs to keep going.

Warehouses, ones that he distantly hopes are unused, blur past him. He’s not far away enough yet. He knows what damage these weapons can do, he’s seen them with his own eyes. Tony isn’t in the suit. He doesn’t want him to be hurt.

He’s got to do this.

He doesn’t know how much damage this thing will do when it goes off. He needs to keep running. Peter pushes harder, further.

Twelve seconds.

He slams to a halt in the middle of what looks like an empty parking lot. Maybe companies used to keep trucks here. If they still do, they won’t for much longer anyway. Not as Peter lowers the bomb down onto the ground just as carefully as he picked it up. Six seconds flashes up at him.

He turns and runs.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The countdown in Peter’s head finishes. He’s early. For a split second, there’s silence. Blissful silence.

Then, it's shattered by the inevitable arriving with a sharp bang from behind him, piercing through the night air. It’s a horrifying, deafening sound, one that’s punctuated with the sound of splintering metal shooting outwards through the air. The heat from the vivid orange flames that dart up into the sky engulfs him.

The force hits him not even a split-second later. It knocks all the air out of his lungs, throwing him through the air.

The warehouse he can see in the distance, hazy through all the smoke and debris, is still intact.

If Mister Stark is okay then all of this is worth it - he’d do it a million times over.

He’s unconscious before he can even hit the ground.

---

“-Peter? Kid? You have to hang on, buddy. You think you can do that for me?”

A voice. It floats vaguely around Peter’s periphery but his ears are ringing and he can’t work out what they’re saying. He thinks maybe he recognises the voice. He tries to turn himself towards it but his whole body screams in protest at the movement.

It hurts. Everywhere hurts.

“God. No, no, no, don’t do this to me. Peter. Peter. I need you to stay with me, please.”

The voice sounds upset. There’s a hand holding his. He thinks he can feel it but he can’t squeeze back. He doesn’t have control of his body.

He’s in pain.

Everything is on fire.

He doesn’t want to stay. Not here. He slips back into the darkness.

There’s no agony in the darkness.

---

Peter’s head is throbbing when he wakes again, every muscle in his body aching. He cracks his eyes open to try and figure out where he is, what’s happening, but the bright light that slips through his eyelids feels like it’s burning straight into his skull. He whines, burrowing into the pillows behind him as though that will allow him to escape it.

His head is pounding. Why is it pounding?

He lets his eyes slip shut again to alleviate some of the relentless pain and tries to sort through his muddled thoughts. He casts his mind back as far as he can.

The illegal weapons ring. The warehouse.

The drain pipe. The vibranium cuffs.

The decimated Iron Man suit.

The bomb.

Mister Stark.

Mister Stark.

Peter shoves himself upright suddenly, his ribs protesting and sending a sharp jolt of pain through his chest. Instinctively, he sucks in a gasp of air, but all that does is exacerbate the pain more. He’s hardly concentrating on that, though.

He’s in the MedBay, he realises. He recognises the white-washed rooms and sterile scent like the back of his hand by now.

Tony. He needs to find Tony.

His eyes dart around until they land on a blurry figure propped in a chair at his bedside. He blinks a few more times, his eyes finally adjusting to the light.

Relief. Some of Peter's panic eases. It’s Tony.

It’s not an uncommon sight, Tony at his bedside. It’s almost concerning, maybe, the fact that Peter wakes up in these situations so often that he’s no longer fazed by it. What is unusual is the fact that Tony isn’t looking at Peter. His eyes are glazed over slightly, focused down on where he’s picking at the corner of a stark white bandage on his wrist - his left wrist, the one that had been cuffed, Peter realises in his hazy mind. The image of Tony chained to that drain pipe, skin bloodied from the way he’d been yanking at those cuffs, works its way to the front of his mind and burns itself there.

“M’ster Stark?” Peter struggles to raise his voice to anything above a rasp. At the sound, Tony looks up, snapping out of whatever daze he was in. His expression is impassive, but there’s something brewing behind it that Peter can’t quite work out.

“You’re awake,” he says simply. There’s no fussing. No rearranging of the pillows, or gentle one-armed hugs or are you okay?’s

He just reaches for the call button on the bedside table instead.

Peter’s still struggling to connect himself with reality, but the feeling that something isn’t right floods through him. He’s slightly less blinded by the sharp ache of pain now, so when he Peter looks at Tony, he sees things he didn’t notice before. He sees how tightly hunched his shoulders are, the deep lines in his face - only exacerbated by the harsh overhead lighting, eyebrows furrowed, drawn into a scowl.

But he’s okay. He’s breathing.

He’s alive.

Peter opens his mouth to say something - what exactly, he’s not sure - but he’s cut off by a voice that disappointingly, isn’t Tony’s.

Peter and Tony glance up at the same time to see Bruce passing through the doorway and crossing the room to Peter’s bedside. “Good to see you awake, Peter.” Bruce places a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder, and Peter realises that he’s still hovering at the same awkward angle he had been when he shot up to look for Tony. He lets Bruce push him back towards the pillows behind him. A tiny breath of relief puffs past his lips when the pressure is taken off his aching chest. “You gave all of us a pretty nasty scare.”

All of us. That must include Tony as well, who has returned to resolutely not looking at Peter.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean to,” Peter croaks out. His throat is horribly dry, but Bruce seems to be prepared because he pushes a glass of water into his hands. Peter grips it carefully, trying his best not to let his hands shake - with what he’s not sure. Anxiety? Pain? Leftover adrenaline? He tucks the straw in-between his lips and takes a sip just to try and alleviate some of the awkwardness he feels, not saying a word and pretending not to see the probing looks Bruce is sending Tony’s way.

“It’s okay. I’ve learnt to expect the unexpected when it comes to you, Peter,” Bruce tells him. Peter watches warily at the way Bruce’s eyes flit between him and Tony. He feels like there’s something unspoken going on that he hasn’t been let in on.

“How long have I been out for?” Peter asks, suddenly noticing the light filtering in through the darkened windows.

“About fourteen hours,” Bruce tells him. “It gave your healing a chance to give everything a good crack. It’s three-thirty on Saturday afternoon.”

Peter swallows. The last he remembers clearly is the panic etched so deeply onto Tony’s face as he sprinted from that warehouse, bomb cradled in his arms. Everything after that is a bit of a blur, a haze of freezing night air and the darkened sky above him and then fire, the reverberation of the bang, being tosses backwards like he weighed nothing - like he was nothing. That’s what people are to those kinds of weapons. Destructible. Nothing.

Peter couldn’t have let it go off anywhere near Tony. That was never even an option.

“Mister Stark, I really wasn’t trying to-”

Tony shakes his head, the movement sharp and jerky. “Just let Bruce do his job, Peter.” Peter barely recognises the tone. It’s not warm, or smooth and reassuring, the one that he’s gradually taken on as he spends more and more time at Peter’s side. This is cold and impersonal, the type of tone that makes a shiver run down Peter’s spine involuntarily. He hates it immediately.

Bruce shoots Tony a confused look, “It’s okay, I can focus just fine with you jabbering on. I’m used to dealing with the two of you.”

Tony doesn’t budge, just giving another shake of his head. “We’ll talk afterwards,” Tony says, letting himself sink back into the chair again instead of sitting ramrod straight. The movement is less relieved and more defeated. Exhausted. Worn down.

Bruce looks taken aback for a second before he regains his composure and focuses his attention back on Peter. “Are you in any pain?” he asks, feeling around Peter’s ribs. He’s gentle, but Peter flinches back anyway as he brushes over a particularly tender spot.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter sees Tony’s eyes dart up to fix on him at the movement. Concern flashes across his face but it’s gone as quickly as it came. By the time Peter can turn his head to catch Tony’s eye properly, the man is staring out the window, stony expression set back in place.

The knot of discomfort in Peter’s stomach grows.

“I see your healing hasn’t quite gotten the whole way there yet,” Bruce hums. “You broke five of your ribs,” he explains when he sees Peter’s thinly-veiled quizzical look. “A few second-degree burns on your arms. You’ve got a pretty nasty head wound as well, but with a few stitches, it will be as good as new in no time. You’re lucky that’s all it is. It looks like you took a pretty big hit when you landed.”

Peter winces, noticing for the first time the thick white bandages covering his upper arms. He’s used to this, listening to Bruce reel off a laundry list of injuries that he’s had to tend to for him. But this seems bad - even for him. He reaches up for the back of his head, feeling around. His fingertips brush over the stitches and he hisses before Bruce can wrap a hand around his wrist gently to tug him away.

“Is it bad?” he mumbles.

Tony scoffs almost inaudibly at the question. Bruce just gives him a softened smile. “Nothing a few days in bed won’t let your healing take care of.”

“A few days? But I feel-”

“Don’t argue with him,” Tony mutters, speaking up again.

That’s more than enough to shut Peter up. He bites down on his bottom lip, chewing on it anxiously as Bruce bustles around Peter for a few more minutes. He gives Peter another dose of pain meds when even shifting against the pillows makes the angry aching in his ribs flare-up, makes sure that he’s got enough liquids to keep him hydrated and checks all of his vitals once more.

“Are you going to be okay if I leave you to it?” Bruce asks once he’s finished. He’s looking directly at Peter but before Peter can even open his mouth to answer, Tony nods stiffly. “We’re fine.”

Bruce glances back at Peter, conflicted, but Peter keeps his mouth shut. He needs to grow a pair and just explain himself to Tony.

As Bruce closes the door behind him, Peter realises all of a sudden that he actually would have quite liked Bruce to stay. Especially as Tony turns to him properly for the first time since Peter’s woken up. His face is still set firmly, emotionless, but there’s a new fury that’s been let loose, burning behind his eyes.

Peter can only hold eye-contact for a few moments before he ducks his eyes away. Neither of them speaks for a minute.

“Care to tell me what the hell you were thinking?” Tony asks lowly.

Peter looks up again cautiously. “The bomb... I, I had to get it out of there.”

“And you had to do that by running out of there with it like a football?”

“I didn’t mean to get hurt, or get in the way, I promise,” Peter rushes out quickly, trying to make Tony understand. “But you were stuck and that thing was going to go off and I know I’m faster than Rhodey in the suit, it had to be me, it had to.” Peter watches as Tony sucks in a sharp breath at his words. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

“Trying to be helpful?” Tony repeats incredulously. “Is it lost on you how completely reckless you were? I don’t give a damn about what you were trying to do, not when your own actions end with you in a hospital bed,” Tony growls. “Do you know that Rhodey had to be the one to come out and find you splayed out on the concrete like a fucking ragdoll after the bomb you were carrying imploded in your arms? Or that I had to sit there, holding your hand wondering if you were about to die on me in the back of a medevac, of all places? Does any of that even matter to you?” Tony stops and sighs, burying his head in his hands for the briefest of moments. Peter wonders what he’s trying to conceal. “God, Peter. I just wish you’d put the tiniest bit of value on your own fucking life for once.”

“Of course it matters. I care about my own life” - just maybe not more than yours. Maybe I’d rather die protecting you than live with the guilt of not being able to save you - “and I was careful, I promise.”

“I don’t care how careful you were, Peter. My problem is with the fact that you picked up the damn thing in the first place. It’s the first rule of bomb safety. You don’t touch it. Ever.”

“I was never taught bomb safety,” Peter mutters, for no real reason apart from the small spark of satisfaction of talking back. He can feel his hackles rising a little as he’s dismissed so carelessly. He was just trying to help. That thing would have blown Tony to pieces.

“You shouldn’t need a fucking SHIELD standard bomb safety course to know not to pick up an active bomb and run with it. What if the bomb had gone off when you picked it up, huh? How did you know that wasn’t going to happen? Then all of us would have been done for. Even if we’d somehow survived the blast, the building would have collapsed on us. Did you think of any of this?” Tony accuses as if he thinks that in that moment, Peter had room for any other thoughts in his mind apart from the constant chant of, keep Mister Stark safe, keep Mister Stark safe, keep Mister Stark safe.

“I had to take that risk!” Peter snaps, voice raised as he loses his cool slightly. “I saved your life.”

Tony’s stare hardens. “Yeah, and nearly ended your goddamn own. This isn’t a trade-off. It wasn’t your call to make.”

“You would have done the same thing to protect me,” Peter points out. Tony just seethes at the statement, shoving his chair out backwards to stand, suddenly towering taller over Peter.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about what you think I would have done. You are not me.” Tony paces, back and forth at the foot of Peter’s bed, releasing some sort of frustrated tension that’s emanating off of him. “I let you come along because I thought I could trust you to listen to me, Peter.”

I thought I could trust you.

The words hit Peter harder than anything else. Tony can trust him. He wasn’t purposefully trying to go against orders. He was trying to save his life.

“You would have died,” Peter says, the words soft as he struggles to force them out. All his anger has disappeared now, replaced with the memory of fear pulsing through him as he remembers what went down in the warehouse. Tony would without a doubt been blown apart if someone hadn’t gotten that bomb out of there. He really, really doesn’t want to think about that. “I don’t know what I would have done if you-”

Tony shakes his head, dismissing Peter’s weak attempt at building bridges between them before he could really even say what he needs to. The movement is sharp enough that Peter’s mouth snaps shut, words dying on his tongue.

“You’re a kid, Peter, Tony thunders, the word kid flying out of his mouth with more vitriol than Peter has ever heard it from him. He’s used to the word escaping Tony’s lips when they’re pulled in a warm smile, reserved just for him. It’s not like that today. It’s the furthest away it could possibly get. “I don’t need your help. I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I thought you’d be able to work that out for yourself but apparently I have to spell a few things out for you. You’re not an Avenger. I just want you to survive goddamn high school - and it seems like even that’s too much to ask of you.”

Peter can feel tears burning in his eyes but he blinks them away desperately, willing himself to not let them spill down his cheeks. He’s already being spoken to like a child, he doesn’t need to give Tony any more reason to believe that he’s nothing more than that.

“I think you’re being a bit harsh, Tony,” a new voice says firmly.

Tony, clearly having been so engrossed in his tirade, jerks around to face the door. Rhodey is standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. Tony’s scowl just deepens.

“Shut it, Rhodes,” Tony snaps. “If he can handle a live bomb then I think he can handle hearing the truth.”

“You’re not going to do this. Not right now. Peter’s hurt.”

A ghost of something unreadable crosses Tony’s face. A tiny bit of the fight eeks out of his posture and his shoulders slump. His voice still has the same hard edge to it though, as he says, “I’m very aware of that, funnily enough.”

Rhodey steps forward and wraps a firm hand around Tony’s elbow, despite the protests, and all but hauls him from the room. He halts in the doorway and turns around for a second. Peter eyes him hesitantly. “It’s good to see you awake, Peter,” he says. It’s solemn but genuine.

Peter nods. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s run out of words. The two of them disappear out the door, leaving Peter alone.

Peter thinks he’d rather have just stayed asleep. At least this way the ache of his bones wouldn’t be competing with the void of regret growing inside of him.

He was just trying to protect Tony - but now all Tony sees him as is an incapable kid, and worse than that, someone that he can’t even trust.

---

The room stays empty all afternoon.

Maybe a little naively, Peter keeps waiting for Tony to reappear.

He doesn’t.

The closest he gets to any affection is from Bruce, who gives him a comforting squeeze on the shoulder as he ups his dose of painkillers before he goes to sleep.

Tony doesn’t come in to say goodnight either. FRIDAY tells him that Tony is still awake. She asks Peter if he’d like her to tell Tony that he’s asking for him.

Peter shakes his head, curling up under the blankets. “I, uh, no, no thank you, FRIDAY. I’m okay. Totally fine.”

He goes to sleep trying to believe his own words.

---

By the next morning, Peter’s head has stopped giving him grief completely, and according to Bruce, the stitches have dissolved. The burns are on their way to healing as well. The pain in his ribs is the only thing he’s really still contending with but he’s still not allowed to leave the MedBay.

Bruce hangs around for a while, listening to Peter’s weak arguments about how he feels great and how he’s sure that he’ll be totally fine if Bruce would just discharge him to go home. Tony must have told Bruce that May is away for the weekend because that particular request gets shot down extremely quickly.

After all, Peter knows Bruce doesn’t believe a single word that he’s saying, and isn't even considering his arguments for a second - but he’s indulging him anyway. It’s his way of keeping him company, at least for a little while, without making Peter feel pitied. It’s nice.

Especially since it’s the only human contact he gets for the morning - if you don’t count FRIDAY. He spends the rest of the morning scrolling aimlessly through his phone, chatting to her. Peter thinks maybe he can count her as human contact. She’s always felt real enough to him anyway, such a source of comfort in times like these that it almost feels like an insult to think of her as any less.

By the time the afternoon rolls around, Peter tells himself that he hasn’t just spent the entire morning tentatively hoping for a visit from Tony.

He was stupid to even think about it. Of course, he was never going to show. Peter learnt that yesterday.

---

A few hours later, as Peter’s making his way down his Instagram feed for what feels like the hundredth time today to try and keep his mind off everything, there’s a voice in the doorway.

“Hey, kid.”

Peter’s head shoots up at the familiar words, hope blooming in his chest for a moment before his eyes meet the person’s in the doorway. Rhodey. The hope withers and dies.

He forces his lips into what feels like the barest shadow of a smile. He doesn’t know why he thought it might be Tony. Of course it isn’t him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Unlike yesterday, where he appeared briefly to all but haul Tony out of the room, Rhodey appears to be intent on staying this time. He crosses from the doorway to Peter’s bedside and sinks into the chair that Tony had been occupying yesterday.

“How’re you doing?” he asks once he’s settled, watching Peter carefully like he’s trying to pick up on any tells. Peter attempts a smile again. If this was Tony he might be worried about his poor acting skills giving him away, but it’s not. As much as he likes Rhodey, he doesn’t know him like Tony.

(Not many people know him like Tony.)

Peter shrugs. His ribs have been aching all morning and he’s got a splitting headache that just won’t leave. It’s probably too much phone time. Tony would tell him to put it away and let his eyes rest if he was here.

“M’fine.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

As Peter shrugs again in answer, Rhodey seems to cotton on to the fact that Peter doesn’t feel much like talking about his ailments, so he changes his tack. Peter’s grateful - it means he doesn’t have to think too much about his own issues. He’s sick of feeling sorry for himself.

So they talk about nothing for a little while. Rhodey’s last deployment that Peter hasn’t caught up on. How Peter’s doing at school. What he’s been working on in the lab.

But eventually, Peter just can’t help himself. He chews on his lip for a second, before he bites the bullet and just hopes the answer isn’t something that he doesn’t want to hear. “I, uh, do you think Mister Stark might come down today? I get he’s probably super busy and, y’know, mad at me, but I just thought… maybe...”

Peter knows what the answer is going to be as soon as Rhodey’s facial expression folds into one of distinct regret. “Tony’s a little busy today, Pete,” he says, before pausing. Peter can tell he’s thinking on his feet, trying to cover for his friend. Peter curls further into the blankets he’s lying under. “He had a few meetings come up. You know how it is.”

That’s exactly the problem. Peter does know how it is - and it’s not like this, whatever this is. Tony will drop anything business-related in a second to take care of the people he loves. That’s who he is, Peter’s discovered, after months of texts and dropping by and late nights in the lab, chipping away at his walls.

Peter doesn’t know which is worse. Tony telling Rhodey to lie to him about where he is, or Tony actually deciding that meetings are higher on his priority list than Peter as he lies alone in the MedBay.

He hates me. He hates me. He hates me.

Rhodey obviously sees the look on his face that Peter’s trying so hard to hide because he sighs. “I’m sorry, I’m sure he’d be down here as soon as possible if he could.”

Liar. He wouldn’t. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near me.

“He hates me now, doesn’t he?” Peter asks, voice small and resigned. He doesn’t want to hear the answer, not really. Not when he’s pretty much already accepted that he knows what it will be. 

Rhodey’s eyes widen. He flounders for a second, looking lost. Peter’s once again reminded that he’s not Tony. Kid doesn’t sound the same when he says it. He doesn’t know how to settle Peter when anxiety wraps itself around his chest, all-consuming. He doesn’t know that a hand run through Peter’s hair will make him go soft and that if you scratch right behind his ear he’ll lean into the touch automatically. 

Tony knows all these things.

“Absolutely not, he doesn’t hate you,” Rhodey says, finding his voice. “He’s just busy, I-”

“I know you’re bullshitting,” Peter mumbles. He knows it’s rude. He knows he shouldn’t talk like that to Rhodey - Rhodey’s just trying to help, he’s here, which is more than anyone else. But he’s tired and sore and frustrated and god, he just wants someone here to love him. “He hates me. He does. Otherwise he'd be here."

“Tony could never hate you, Peter,” Rhodey says. “I’ll talk to him, okay? He’s just having a tough time.”

"All I was trying to do was help. He didn’t have the suit. Otherwise, he was going to… he could have…” Peter trails off, the words lodging themselves in his throat.

Rhodey doesn't seem to have an answer for this. He knows as well as Peter does what would have happened if Peter hadn't gotten that bomb out of there. The two of them fall into quiet.

Even still, Rhodey doesn’t budge from his bedside for an hour or so after that. It’s company, it’s something, but it’s not the same.

Peter will take what he can get.

---

May phones that night when he’s alone, again. The room is swathed in darkness, lit only by the glow of the TV. There’s an old rerun of Jeopardy! playing that he isn’t watching.

Peter shifts in bed, trying to make himself more comfortable as he answers her call. His chest aches as he props himself further up the pillows. Bruce has told him it’s totally normal to expect some discomfort as they heal but it’s been getting steadily worse all throughout the afternoon - maybe speaking to Rhodey took it out of him more than he thought. In the back of his mind, he reminds himself to call Bruce down for another dose of painkillers before he goes to sleep tonight.

He has FRIDAY put May on speakerphone. This way, her voice echoes around the room, filling the empty space that’s been threatening to suffocate him all evening.

He tries to ask her how her trip is going, but apparently, she’s not so interested in pleasantries tonight.

“You want to tell me why I had to wait for a call from Colonel Rhodes to let me know that my nephew is in hospital?”

Peter swallows. “Technically it’s just the MedBay,” he offers weakly.

May makes a slightly unimpressed sound at his answer. “Peter,” she says, “I’m serious. You can’t just, not tell me these things.”

“I dunno,” Peter says, shrugging even though she can’t see him. “I was going to eventually, I promise.”

(He does know why he didn’t tell her. She’s having a nice getaway with her friends. She doesn’t get many of those, not with Peter around. He doesn’t want to get in anyone else's way this weekend.)

“Is Tony okay? I was so worried about you I didn’t even think to ask, which I feel terrible about but-”

“He’s fine,” Peter interjects. “Totally fine. It was, uh, mainly just me.”

“Is he with you? Can I speak to him?”

Peter casts an eye around the room, almost like he’s looking for the man that he knows isn’t here - it just feels like he should be. Peter lying in the MedBay alone feels wrong. “He’s not, actually. Not right now.”

“He has been though, right?” May asks, though there’s no worry in her tone. She says it like a given. Like there’s nowhere else Tony would be rather than at Peter’s side, especially when she can’t be there herself. She trusts Tony to look after him.

He wonders whether she would understand that Tony can’t stand to be around him if he told her what happened.

“Yeah, he has been…” he says, hoping the uncertainty in his voice doesn’t give him away.

“Good. I'm looking forward to seeing both of you. I’ve booked the first flight home, I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.”

Peter shoots upright, ribs twinging. “No, no,” he rushes out, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh hush,” May tuts, “I want to, don’t be silly.”

Peter opens his mouth to refute her again but he finds that he can’t. He wants her here. Now more than ever.

May keeps talking and Peter lies back and closes his eyes. If he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that he’s lying sprawled out on the couch back in their apartment and May’s just in the kitchen, somewhere nearby where she could step over and give him a hug as soon as he broke and admitted that, god, he really needs one right now.

Only almost, though. Because the room still smells sterile rather than of May’s favourite cedarwood reed diffuser and the sheets underneath him are soft, too soft, so unlike the worn, slightly scratchy fabric of their own couch.

He lets himself drift off pretending anyway, clinging to the daydream of comfort.

---

By the time Peter’s let May’s voice lull him into a deep sleep, he’s completely forgotten that he didn’t call Bruce in for any more painkillers.

---

It’s dark when Peter wakes next, and he can barely breathe.

He has no idea what the time is. He can barely remember where he is.

All he knows is pain.

It burns from deep inside his chest, emanating everywhere, cutting right down to his bones. His breathing is coming in heavy, painful pants and every gulp of air he sucks in sends a jolt of pain through his ribs. He doesn’t know what’s going on - he’s still stuck in a half-asleep daze but he feels like he’s dying.

It hurts. It hurts. Everything hurts.

He screws his eyes shut. It wasn’t like he was seeing much anyway, his vision blurred with tears and the room spinning dangerously around him.

Someone whimpers. It’s whiny sounding, like a wounded animal. Peter hates it. He tucks his knees to his chest - more pain - and buries his head in his knees to try and block out the sound. It doesn’t work.

A few minutes later, still curled up in the same cramped position, still lost inside his world of pain, Peter’s hazy mind comes to the conclusion that it’s him whimpering.

Pathetic. Pathetic.

He needs his pain meds. He needs something to numb this, to numb everything. In the back of his mind, he distantly remembers that he needed to ask Bruce for more. He doesn’t think he did. Or at least, he doesn’t remember the man ever coming to administer them.

It’s your own fault, Peter.

Something else to add to the list.

He twists in agony as another strike of pain hits, his ribs flaring up again. He could ask FRIDAY to get Bruce for him. He knows that she’d wake him up. But he doesn’t want to disturb him. If he needed his meds he should have remembered to ask at a reasonable hour.

You’re already in everyone’s way. Mister Stark hates you. Bruce has been having to deal with you all the time.

Stop being a baby.

Mister Stark doesn’t want a kid on the team.

Prove it to them. Show them that you can be strong.

He tucks his limbs closer to his chest, curling up tighter. Everything hurts, and he can feel tears starting to burn in his eyes. He feels a few hot tears drip down his cheeks before he can contain them and he shifts a hand up to wipe them away.

“F-FRIDAY?” Peter starts, quietly. He stumbles over the word, voice hitching.

“Yes, Peter?” FRIDAY replies. Her voice is soothing, and Peter wants to lean into its familiarity.

"I..." Peter falls silent. He doesn’t know what he’s asking. He just wants.

---

Peter's not sure how much time has passed when he hears footfall outside his door. He thinks maybe he’s imagining it. The pain is ebbing now, rising and falling like the tide, returning every so often just to crash over him and drown him in it.

The door creaks open, a sliver of light falling across the room. Peter’s breath chokes in his throat

I’m fine. I’m fine, I’m fine.

Don’t make a sound. Don’t be a bother.

Don’t get in the way.

“Peter?”

That’s his name, spoken in such an unsure way and shielded behind a cold demeanour. Peter immediately knows exactly who it is. His breathing ratchets up because oh god, it’s Tony and he sounds exactly the same way as he did last time they spoke. Peter’s meant to be showing that he’s strong, that he’s capable. And yet here he is hyperventilating and trembling in pain under the covers. He stays as still as he can, eyes screwed shut. Maybe if he lies here for long enough, Tony might leave.

He doesn’t want Tony to leave - not really. But there must be some mistake. Tony can’t mean to be here. If he meant to be here, surely he would have been a whole lot earlier.

“Do you need something? FRIDAY said you were in pain.”

Oh. He doesn’t even mean to be here. FRIDAY called him down. Peter doesn’t remember asking FRIDAY to fetch him.

“Peter?” Tony questions when he doesn’t reply, voice now less hostile and laced with confusion.

Peter doesn't know what he needs. But he knows he wants someone to stay. 

“H’rts,” Peter mumbles before he can stop himself. “Please make it stop.”

And then before he can stop himself, he’s crying, embarrassing loud, ugly sobs because he’s so sore and so lonely and Tony is just there, only a few feet away and yet he feels so impossibly far away. He wants someone to hold his hand and push the strands of sweat-soaked hair off his forehead. He wants someone to tell him he’s going to be okay because right now all he knows is pain, burning through his veins, and he can’t see the way out.

He wants May. He wants Tony.

He wants someone to hold him.

Quiet footsteps tread towards his bedside. Peter doesn’t dare open his eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tony soothes, and the way he speaks so gently only makes Peter sob harder. It’s hard to breathe with the lump in his throat and crushing ache of his ribs. He gasps out without realising it, and then tries to quieten himself. Tony’s still there though. He hasn't left. Peter feels him lower a warm hand down onto his back, rubbing in circles gently.

“Shh. Breathe, Pete, you just gotta breathe. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Why is he being so nice? Suddenly, Peter wonders if he deserves it. He can’t even remember if he apologised to Tony.

“‘m sorry, I tried not to get in the way but it hurts,” Peter whines. He sounds pathetic but he can’t help it. “I can’t breathe. M’ster Stark, make it stop, make it stop, please.”

“You need to talk to me, buddy. What hurts?” Tony asks. His voice is quiet and reassuring. Peter likes this Tony better than angry Tony. He lets his eyes slip closed. “No, no, I need you to look at me. Just for a second, okay?”

Look at him? At Tony? Peter can do that, he thinks. He blinks his eyes open, eyelids heavy. He wants to close them again so badly, but Tony’s got this concerned look drawn all over his face while he’s looking at him, which Peter’s so confused about. The last time he saw Tony, the man had looked like he thought Peter was the worst person on the planet. Like he hated him.

Tony grabs the medicine chart off the clipboard above Peters’ bed and Peter watches through tear-blurred vision as he scans his eyes over it. “That'll do it. Your ribs are probably throwing a fit since you haven’t had any meds since midday, Pete, that was well over twelve hours ago” - Peter tries to do the math to figure out what time it is, what ungodly hour he’s dragged Tony out of bed to run around after his sorry ass, but his brain is too addled to figure it out - “didn’t Bruce dose you up before bed?” Tony asks. He knows the answer. He has the chart in front of him. Bruce is meticulous, he never forgets to tick these things off.

Peter gives a pitiful shake of his head, a barely noticeable movement. “M’fault. Didn’t ask.”

Tony sighs, biting down on his lip like he wants to get into it but he knows he can’t. Peter’s glad. He doesn’t have the energy for any of this. He feels like his brain is still trying to play catch up. Every time he blinks, Tony is still there when he opens his eyes, standing in front of him, concern pulling his face down in a frown.

“Well, I’m gonna dose you up now.”

“The good stuff?” Peter mumbles, turning his face into the pillow to try and hide a wince as another wave of pain arrives, lapping at his toes before surging forward to wash over him. Tony doesn’t miss it, and his movements grow hurried as he fumbles to pull out a dose of Peter’s pain meds.

His fingers are gentle as he takes Peter’s arm in his grip to keep it steady. Peter didn’t realise how badly he was still trembling - from the panic or pain he’s not sure. Tony slips the syringe into the IV catheter and plunges down slowly. Peter watches him lazily, eyes cracked open. He’s seen Tony do this so many times, hell, he’s even seen the man do it to himself. He trusts him.

“Yeah, bud, the real good stuff.”

The familiar sensation wraps Peter in its hold not long after. He lets his eyes flutter closed, but tries to blink them open again when he hears a voice above him. “Yeah, there we go… no, shhh, close your eyes.”

Peter does as he’s told because the voice is gentle and he trusts it. He doesn’t think it would lead him astray.

“There we go. Nice work, kiddo.”

The room floats away, but there’s a pressure against his scalp, a hand running through his hair, grounding him to reality. It’s nice. A much nicer reality than the one he was trapped before. That seems like such a long time ago. Maybe Peter dreamt it?

“‘m sorry I didn’t listen,” Peter mumbles out. He turns, pressing his face into the palm of Tony’s hand like a starved animal seeking out the barest scraps of physical attention. Tony curls his fingers gently, blunt nails scratching against the tufts of hair around Peter’s ear.

“You’re okay, bud, you’re okay. We can talk later when you’re not so loopy. Just try and get some sleep.”

Talk… later? What if Tony leaves again? What if there is no later? Peter wants to talk now. Ben always used to tell him that you should never go to bed angry and he and Tony have broken that rule the last two nights now - he doesn’t want to do it again. But whenever he tries to open his mouth, his tongue feels too heavy to force out any of the right words.

“Sleep?” Peter slurs out quietly.

Tony nods. “Yeah, all you need right now is a good night’s sleep. I’ll be right here in the morning,” he says, words soft and genuine. Peter believes them - but he makes sure anyway.

“Right h’re?”

Tony nods again, settling further into the chair he’s sitting in as if to physically demonstrate to Peter exactly what he’s saying. “I promise.”

That’s good enough for Peter. Sleep does sound pretty good, on second thought. There’s a floaty feeling flowing through Peter now, dissipating the pain. He’s comfy, and the weight of Tony’s hand against his cheek where he’s still scratching at his hair feels so nice. He rolls over, trapping Tony’s hand there between the pillow and his cheek. He can’t leave now, even if he wants to.

---

Hours later, Peter only remembers a few things from the night before when he surfaces from his sleep, memories blurring together in the back of his mind.

Burning pain and then nothing. Someone by his bedside maybe? A hand in his hair. A quiet voice.

Close your eyes, you’re okay.

Peter knows that voice. It sounds so achingly familiar, even as it echoes through his thoughts.

You’re okay, buddy. You’re okay.

Peter rolls over onto his side at the sound of an exhale from beside him, the smallest of yawns like someone trying their best to be quiet. It’s Tony, he realises, the comforting words whispering through his mind suddenly making much more sense. He clearly managed to get his hand free from underneath Peter’s cheek last night but he’s still here anyway, in the chair by his bedside, the one that’s remained largely unoccupied over the last couple of days. He’s dressed in an old t-shirt and faded jeans - Peter dreads to think what important lab work he pulled the man away from last night.

“Hey, bud” Tony mumbles. His voice is rough with sleep and he stretches his arms out above his head, poorly hiding a wince as he does.

A rush of shame floods Peter almost immediately. He can’t believe that Tony had to spend the night down here last night just because he kicked up a fuss about a little bit of pain.

He stares stupidly for a moment, willing the words to work their way out of his exhausted brain but he doesn’t know what to say. Tony shouldn’t be here. He probably doesn’t want to be here.

“You can go,” is the first thing that works its way free from Peter’s mouth. Tony raises his eyebrows.

“Good morning to you too,” Tony says, looking equal parts bemused and a little taken aback by Peter’s greeting. “Am I allowed to at least ask you how you’re feeling before you kick me out?

“I’m not kicking you out,” Peter mutters, the slightest bit defensive. He doesn’t know why Tony would think that he’s the one that wants him gone. He’d love Tony to stay - he’d have loved Tony to stay the second he woke up in the MedBay and they had their blowout. But it’s not about him. He doesn’t want Tony to stay if he doesn’t want to. He’s just making it easier for him - he’s made it abundantly clear that spending time with Peter isn’t exactly at the top of his priorities list, after all. “I, just, uh, I’m sorry you had to come down here. I don’t really remember much from last night.”

“That doesn’t exactly surprise me, you were pretty out of it,” Tony says easily. He shifts in his seat, but he seems to be making himself more comfortable than preparing to get up out of it and walk out the door again. The longer he sticks around the more it’s going to hurt when he leaves.

“I know you're mad at me and I know you don’t really want to be here. You can go, I won’t mind or be offended or anything, I promise,” Peter says, words catching as he says them because of their mistruth. He does mind. He does want Tony here.

But not if he doesn’t want to be.

“I think this means we need to talk about the other day, huh?” Tony says simply. Peter’s brows furrow together in confusion. He wonders if Tony is expecting an apology. He didn’t exactly give him one the other day - didn’t think that saving someone’s life warranted an apology. But obviously he went wrong somewhere along the way because if he hadn’t, maybe Tony might have stuck around.

“I’m sorry, Mister Stark,” he starts, a little nervous. He doesn’t know what he’s expected to say. What do you say to make someone want to stay? “I promise I wasn’t trying to not listen, or put any of us in a dangerous situation, or-”

“You don’t need to do the apologies, kid,” Tony says with a wave of his hand and a strained expression on his face as he listens to Peter’s words. Peter snaps his mouth shut.

“But I really am sorry,” Peter tries again after a beat of silence that Tony doesn’t fill. “I was just trying to protect you, that’s all. You were trapped and the whole place was going to blow and I couldn’t let anything happen to you… I couldn’t.” Peter watches Tony’s face carefully - he’s struggling to read his mix of emotions. “I’m only apologising for not thinking it through. I’m not apologising for trying to protect you,” Peter finishes determinedly. He won’t say he’s sorry for trying to save Tony’s life. Never. He’d do it over and over again in a heartbeat.

“That there, Pete, that’s the problem,” Tony says. He scrubs a hand down the side of his face roughly. “I can’t handle the idea of you protecting me, it’s-”

Peter frowns, a tiny stab of betrayal shooting through his chest. Despite the last few days, somewhere deep down still, he really thought that Tony still believed in him, at least a little bit. Maybe that was stupid of him.

“You let me come to Germany and let me loose against Captain America and the Winter Solider and now suddenly you don’t even trust me to protect you against a few guys with guns and explosives? I handled it, Mister Stark, and I know you think what I did was stupid and reckless, but I handled it.”

Tony shakes his head. “You’ve got a couple of things a little twisted, not that I can exactly blame you, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly the other day,” - he huffs humourlessly. Peter thinks there might be regret in his eyes. “I know what you can do - I’ve known that since before I even really knew you. You’re capable of dealing with what you did the other day, you showed us that.”

“So what’s changed?” Peter asks. He knows he should keep the edge of frustration out of his voice but he can’t. If Tony really trusts him as much as he claims to then why won’t he just accept that Peter is capable of so much more? “Why did you freak out the other day?”

“What’s changed is that now I do really know you.”

Peter’s confused. This whole conversation feels like a roller-coaster of emotions that he’s a little too tired and dozy from the residual drugs pumping through his system to process. “I… what?”

“Now I know you,” Tony repeats. “When I took you to Germany, I didn’t know any more than Spider-Man, really. But you’re still a kid behind the mask, buddy-” Peter scowls weakly, “-and I know you’re gonna tell me that you’re not a kid and all that, but you are and I know you’d guard my life with your own if you’re given the chance and I trust you but that right there? That’s the damn problem.”

“The problem?” Peter repeats incredulously. He’s grown up watching movies and reading comic books under the bed covers with a torch after his bedtime, enamoured with the idea of the action hero choosing to do the right thing - even at the expense of themselves. He’s always thought that laying your life on the line for someone is the most selfless thing you can do for someone and that’s what Tony’s upset about?

“It’s… oh, I don’t know,” Tony mutters. He pauses, thinking for a second. “I was the one who screwed that mission up in the first place. I let my guard down and those idiots got a hold of me. My bad-”

“That wasn’t on you,” Peter says firmly. At this point, it’s becoming unclear who’s trying to comfort who.

“Uh, uh, I’m not done,” Tony chastises. “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. And not just because your Aunt would skin me alive. I’ve, uh, I’ve grown kind of fond of you, kid, I don’t know if you can tell. And the idea of anything happening to you - anything at all, let alone something happening because of me doesn’t sit particularly well.”

Oh.

Oh.

That makes more sense than Peter was expecting. He suddenly feels bad about even rising to the challenge of Tony’s argument in the first place. He knows that Tony tries to cover up the way he feels with a mask of sarcasm and sharp words - Peter just never thought that he’d be on the receiving end.

“I didn’t know I scared you,” Peter says softly. “I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Tony admonishes with a half-hearted scoff. “I don’t think I’d go that far.”

“Sure,” Peter says conspiratorially. He shifts closer to the edge of the bed, closer to Tony. Tony brings an arm up to rest on top of the bed, brushing against Peter’s leg under the covers. It’s nice - the sort of grounding they both need right now. The sort of contact they’ve both been sorely missing.

“Okay, so maybe I was a little worried,” Tony concedes. “I’ve never really been one for kids, never thought I would be. But with you, I just, I don’t want you to grow up too soon. And if I know you half as well as I think I do, then I know that you won’t be hanging up that suit for a long time. Just do both of us a favour and stick to giving old ladies directions for a while, maybe? You’ve got all the time in the world for all the traumatising, hardcore stuff, I promise you.”

“So… you're saying I should skip the traumatising stuff and just stick to traumatising you instead?”

“You’re already doing a pretty damn good job of that, kid.”

---

“May’s on her way from the airport,” Peter says distractedly, later that day as he types out a reply to her text.

Tony is still by Peter’s bedside, his legs kicked up on the bed as he scrolls through his StarkPad. Peter looks up when Tony doesn’t reply. “Hey, Mister Stark?”

“Huh?”

“May’s on her way. Happy just picked her up.”

“Okay, good.”

“What’re you working on?” Peter asks, abandoning his phone as he wonders what’s got Tony so distracted.

“Just going through Rhodey’s report on the other day. Adding in the details, trying to make myself sound cooler, all that good stuff.”

Peter laughs. “Can I help?”

“Pete-”

“You said you trust me!

“Well, this is paperwork, it’s boring-”

“I want to learn! I could help!”

Tony lets out a long-winded sigh. “You really like to make me suffer, don’t you?” He turns fully towards Peter and raises his eyebrows expectantly. “So, hit me then. What’s your take on how the other day went down?”

Peter looks up towards Tony, the beginnings of a grin tugging at his lips.

“Well, I saved the day for starters, it’s really important that you put that in there.”

Tony’s face twists in conflict for a second before it smooths out again. He gives Peter a smile, tired and a little worn but genuine all the same - “yeah, yeah. Sure, kid. We’ll work it in.”

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

One of His Little Toys

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: I wrote this for my @starkerfestivals prison au bingo square! I’m stoked for you guys to see it & hope you enjoy <3 Word Count: ~4.6k Warnings: drug use, physical violence, daddy!kink, general things that happen in prison

Growing up in the heart of Chicago, Peter didn’t have much a choice of what happened in his life. Sure, he was smart – but that wasn’t how you survived in his neighborhood. People didn’t give a shit about an ability to do differential equations – clout was won with fists, guns, and the occasional drive by shooting. No one really understood the darkness of the gang life outside of his little sector of the world. The Cartel had a direct link to the Underworld in Chicago – and Peter got caught in the web at a pretty young age.

May tried to stop him, she really did. When he first brought Quentin back to the apartment so he could grab some things to get the hell out of dodge for a couple of days, May cornered him in his room, a heated look on her face. “What are you doing with him, Pete? I told you I’d talk to Del Mar – we can get you a job.” May said the same words she’d been repeating to him over and over again since he turned 18. He’d been lucky so far, not getting caught in the illicit affairs he let himself get lost in.

“May, stop. I’m going to be gone for a couple of days. I can’t work for Del Mar right now.” He slammed the last couple of things he needed into the bag in his hand and brushed past her – the usual kiss on the cheek replaced by discontent and the slightest bit of disdain. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” Peter wondered how many people said that before bad shit happened to them.

Later that same night, Peter was standing on his usual corner with his new partner, Quentin Beck – the bosses second or third in command around the city. He’d been steadily working his way through the ranks throughout high school and now that he could be available whenever and wherever – they gave him the ultimate promotion. It felt weird at first, to have so much cash and product on him; but then again, Peter never really stopped feeling off about the whole thing since he got beat up into it more than four years ago.

Slipping a line of blow across the snuff box of his hand, Peter took a long inhale and let the powder enter his nasal cavity, the movement of the drug across his blood-brain barrier quick – the effects hit him straight in the chest only a moment or two later. It was his only bump for the night, he needed to keep alert for the busy time of the evening in a couple of hours. When the clubs closed, all of the little playthings would come crawling his way – the late-night hours still upon them.

The night went on like it usually did – he made a few transactions and talked shit with the guys while they stood around, waiting for the next batch of patrons to find their hidden corner of the world. Peter, despite his promise to himself, took another couple of bumps from the stash in his pocket, most of the night spent floating in that weird haze that made time speed up and slow down all at the same time.

Through the haze, Peter recognized the swirling red and blue lights of the cop car about a second too late. He tried to turn and run, his feet a little heavy from the drugs coursing through his system – but he tried, anyway. The four or five steps he took were not enough – all of the sudden, he was down on the ground with a knee in his back, his hands being pulled behind him. There wasn’t any use fighting it, so he turned his head into the concrete below him and let the officer do his thing.

Between the huge stack of money in his jacket pocket and the many, many, many baggies of cocaine, pills, and black balloons in his pants pocket, there was way more than enough to put him away. There wouldn’t be a crying May bailing him out for the fifth time – not after this one. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter waited impatiently in his holding cell; they liked to drag out this process, his previous experiences adding up to so many days sitting in this exact precinct waiting for something – anything to happen.

His stint in court was pretty quick – Peter knew not to name any names or talk about what he knew – so he took his sentencing and waved a handcuffed goodbye in May’s direction when they walked him out. He might as well get used to only seeing her from that distance – 10 years would be a long time to only see her through the partition in the meeting rooms.

The whole processing system of actually getting into the prison took longer than his court appearances. He was used to the bend, squat, and cough – so he blissfully got to put his orange jumpsuit on without further hassle. He thought about all the dumb fucks that came through here and caused a fuss – those people just begging for trouble. Peter knew enough to know the last thing he wanted to do was go sniffing around for anything that looked remotely like a problem. It was imperative to get in there, keep his head down, and find people that weren’t going to shank him when he wasn’t looking.

All in a single day’s work, he thought – a sadistic smile on his face.

His first night was spent in a temporary cell – the big guys that were waiting to be sorted just like him didn’t scare him, but he gave up the top bunk to a grunting man who eyed him up when he demanded; Peter wasn’t going to be sleeping much, anyway. He kept his eyes open and his brain active for the entire night – if he was going to get pulled him his bed, at least he’d be ready for it.

Luckily, the first night went pretty well and he got pulled into a double room later the next afternoon. When he was walked into the cell by a guard, the other side was empty – the protocol of separating the prisoners a little moot once Peter settled into his side of the room. Who was he to argue with the bull shit of this place? The guard gave him a once over before unlocking his cuffs and stepping out.

Sitting down on the flat mat that would serve as his mattress for the rest of the time here, Peter watched the guard bring in his roommate. The man was older, his temples were struck through with white hair. There was a vertical scar across his right cheek that led up to smooth bourbon colored eyes and long eyelashes. His tongue peaked out and trailed across his lip, the older man watching Peter watch him.

At first glance, the man did not scream criminal. He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled at Peter while the guard undid his cuffs, then turned around and flipped him off when the door was closed and locked. “Thanks a bunch, Clint!” he shouted, his hands gripping the bars for a moment. Taking a deep breath, Peter braced himself – this initial interaction would more than likely set the tone for the rest of their relationship sharing this confined space.

When the man did turn around, Peter was struck by just how good all of those features looked together. He wasn’t tall, but there was a presence to him – his arms seemed well defined in the white jumpsuit this block wore. He crossed his fingers that this guy wasn’t some fucking psychopath, because he could easily see himself getting tangled up in whatever his roommate had to offer. A scary thought for not even knowing his name.

Without any preamble, the guy held a hand out between them, a smirk on his face. “Tony Stark,” he remarked confidently, his eyes glued to Peter. Knowing a challenge when he saw it, Peter slipped his hand into Tony’s. Though they were a little smaller than his own, Tony’s hands were rough, callouses riddling his palm and fingers.

“I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker,” he mumbled out, his cheeks heating up. What the hell was happening to him? All of the sudden it felt like his tongue was twenty pounds heavier than just a minute ago, his heart hammering against his chest. Gripping Tony’s hand tightly for another second, Peter pulled back – a guarded look on his face.

“You’re awfully young to be in a place like this, Peter Parker. What did a pretty thing like you do?” Tony asked, the customary ‘what’s your charge’ question was one he still wasn’t used to answering. It never occurred to him just how fucked up his life got until he uttered his drug charges – possession with the intention to distribute. The rabbit hole he let himself fall down was a big one.

Peter took a seat on his excuse for a bed again, his legs swinging crisscross applesauce in front of him like the literal child that he was. “Possession and distribution. All the hard stuff.” He shrugged his shoulders, irritable fingers picking at the snag at the end of his jumpsuit. “I’m not that young. Old enough to be here, anyway,” Peter muttered, his tone coming off a little petulant. At 18, he was old enough to spend the next decade of his life locked away – he felt old enough to not be called young anymore, too.

Tony threw his hands up in mock surrender, the smirk on his face growing a little. “I should have known. You have drugged up twink written all over you. Me, I liked to steal really expensive shit. Kind of a brainy criminal, if you will,” Tony stated. He smiled wide, like the Cheshire Cat, his eyes glowing a little. “Got any brains in that head of yours?” Tony took a step toward him then, his hand tapping on the middle of Peter’s forehead.

Simply rolling with it, Peter nodded his head – his eyes dropping a little bit. Something in him said to get on this guy’s good side. Part of it was his natural urge to submit to beautiful older men like Tony. He let Quentin walk him into a trap because he liked the lines around his eyes and the delectable way he could give Peter just enough to keep him coming back for more. His true druggy nature getting in the way of clear thought. Not this time, though – this was conscious and premeditated. To survive in here, he needed people on his side.

“Yes sir,” he finally responded, his chest tightening when he heard Tony take in a deep gulp of air. So, he’d chosen correctly. His lips slipped into the slightest of smiles, his instinct finally leading him in the right direction for once.

A palm cupped his cheek and tilted his head up, the man’s eyes catching his own. Peter saw heat there – brown pools quickly being swarmed by the black of his eye. Tony caressed his cheek softly, the touch a total contrast to the look on his face. Then, he pulled his hand back and slapped him – the echo of it making his teeth grind. “We’ll see, Peter Parker. We’ll see.”

Peter kept close to Tony throughout the rest of the day. Their cell doors opened a couple of hours later, guards stepping in to put them in cuffs and walk them out to the yard where they’d get a bit of fresh air. Out of all the experiences he’d ever had in jail, this one – the yard and all the vulnerability that came with being out in the open for most of the block population to see (and attack) – always made him nervous.

He quickly found he had nothing to fear, however. It wasn’t hard to see that the man he was with carried a sort of clout that only long-time crooks and murders could obtain. People looked away unless he was speaking to them and when he did, they gave him their full attention. Keeping his own eyes down, Peter was surprised to find them stopped in front of a cluster of guys sitting on some of the picnic benches just outside the cages around the gym.

“Guys – this is Pete.” He pushed at Peter’s arm, the movement thrusting him a little closer to the group. “Pete here says he’s smart. So he’s good with us until he stops being smart. Got it?” Tony looked at each of them, their heads nodding without a singular argument. Not for the first time since experiencing Tony’s raucous and completely intoxicating energy, Peter wondered what the actual fuck this guy was all about.

Either way, he didn’t question it. The group was large enough to have a perimeter around him at all times and they all seemed to do whatever Tony told them. As long as he was smart – which he wasn’t quite sure what that meant yet – he could count on the protection of the group of misfits that were gathered around his roommate like he was the actual messiah.

Peter quickly came to learn that Tony was the brains behind many operations within the prison. Since the older man’s duty was in the kitchen, he had access to delivery vehicles – which smuggled in products of interest for the other prisoners.

There was a pretty elaborately interwoven mechanism of distribution and payment that made Peter’s head spin thinking about it. He bit into his lip when Tony took him through it all, the massive amount of information that Tony kept in his head overwhelming.

He didn’t need to wonder about what being smart meant for long. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Tony picked up on his submission, the way he called him sir – hell, the way he followed him around like a puppy. It wasn’t hard to see it in his eyes, the want that fueled him where Tony was concerned. When the older man eventually came to collect, Peter didn’t hesitate or struggle. Their lips met in a hot kiss, a hot moan slipping from Peter’s lips. Tony tore away and pressed the side of his face against Peter’s.

“Fuck, you moan so pretty. But you have to keep it down for daddy, do you understand? The guards are only going to tolerate so much shit. And I plan to make you howl when I slam my cock inside of you,” Tony muttered, the words close enough to his ear that every one of them sent a tingle down his spine – the warm breath a swift contrast to the cool temperature in the cell.

He felt Tony reach down and grab him through his jumpsuit, his cock already rock hard. Biting into his lip, Peter stopped himself from yelping, the heat in his core already starting to overflow. Another hard squeeze had him standing right at the precipice – his body a total traitor. Tony huffed out a laugh, then covered Peter’s lips with his own. “Be a good boy and cum for daddy,” he whispered pulling away from the kiss a couple minutes later.

As if he would try to fight against that request – biting down harder on his lip, Peter felt himself cum in the only pair of boxers he’d been allowed. Tasting blood on his tongue made the haze he fell into even better, and he slumped against the wall bonelessly. Tony gave him all of a minute to recover before he was grabbing at him, hands tight on his shoulders.

“Get on your knees,” the older man demanded, his voice low and gravely – the tone one that didn’t leave room for any sort of questioning or argument. He slipped down to the hard floor and waited for Tony’s next instruction.

The rustling of clothes had him looking up, his eyes catching the bare flesh of his stomach before it was gone. Tony pulled himself out of his pants just enough to press his bare cock against Peter’s mouth.

“Open up, baby boy,” Tony murmured, his jaw already slack from the cold air across his sensitive flesh.

Opening his mouth, Peter took Tony in, the older man feeding him his dick – inch by inch. Tony kept a tight grasp at the base and let his hips tip forward to slip the length down Peter’s throat. He wasn’t the most experienced person in the world, but he learned how to breathe through his nose pretty quickly – Tony’s length impressive, despite his shorter stature. As the tip of Tony’s cock pressed against his throat, Peter felt himself drool down his chin, thick tears starting to collect in his eyes.

Tony’s hand moved from his dick to the back of Peter’s head and kept him there – his nostrils flaring as he tried to catch his breath. The hand stayed there for what felt like another year before fingers were tangling in his long curls and pulling his head away – a string of spit alive and well between his mouth and the tip of Tony’s cock. Gasping in a deep breath, Peter barely had time to wipe his chin before his throat was being assaulted again.

The older man took what he wanted until his hips started to stutter. Tony pulled back then, his eyes completely glazed – the look in them a little scary. His hand tightened in Peter’s hair and yanked until he was rising to his feet to ease some of the tension on the strands. The tip of his tongue played with the bite marks on his lip – the stimulus enough to stave off the sudden heat slamming into his chest.

“Turn around and drop your pants,” Tony grumbled, his cheeks flushed and lips moist from the man running his tongue over them.

Peter did what he was told – his head dropping against the concrete of the wall, Tony’s body immediately pressing him flush against it. Fingers were pressed into his mouth a rough “suck” being mumbled against the back of his neck. Tony nibbled and bit on the skin there, his teeth digging into the flesh when he managed to pull enough of it into his mouth.

Wrapping his lips around the digits, Peter sucked them into his mouth as far as they would go – the angle of his head turned not the easiest to manage. Knowing this was probably the only lubrication he was going to get, he laved at them with his tongue liberally. He felt like a fish off the hook when Tony pulled his fingers away.

There wasn’t much warning before one finger was against his rim, the tip rubbing the tight muscle for just a second before breaching – the slide a little dry, but the burn just right. He’d always gotten off on a little pain with his pleasure, so he marveled in it.

The drag of two fingers was even better and before he knew it, Tony was spitting into his hand, fingers gone and replaced with a blunt cock head. Rough hands on his shoulders pulled him back as Tony thrust forward, the stretch pulling a moan out of his throat that he couldn’t hold in – no matter how hard he tried.

“That’s right, baby. Moan for me. Tell daddy how much you like it,” Tony babbled, his words enhanced by the sharp thrusts in and out of his stretched hole. It felt a little raw, the drag back and forth – yet, Tony’s cock hitting his prostate was more than enough to make up for it. Tony reached around and gripped his cock with a tight hand, his strokes timing nicely with the roll of his hips.

Slipping over the edge was sudden, Peter tossing his head back a bit to let out a rough groan – his muscles clenched tight and every pulse of cum drawn from him felt like pure liquid fire. A rough bite on his neck signaled Tony’s release a moment later, the man’s hips slamming into him hard and staying there, the pulse of the man’s cock pulling another long moan from Peter’s lips.

Lips on his neck pulled him out of his orgasm induced haze – the press of Tony’s facial hair against the skin there making him shutter. “That’s a good boy,” Tony mumbled, his hands gripping Peter tight around the middle. With one more tiny thrust, the older man pulled out – a gruff gasp leaving his lips. “Fuck,” Peter heard, a small smile slipping across his lips.

If that’s what Tony wanted in return for protecting him – Peter was more than happy to oblige.

Things stayed pretty regular for a couple of months. Peter joined Tony in the kitchen, his brain a perfect addition to the already masterfully run plan. Without the drugs in his system, Peter could think much clearer. He contributed a lot to Tony’s already impressive plans – the man praising him on near constant basis, sometimes more than one time a day if they were lucky enough to catch a few private moments. It wasn’t like being on the outside, but it wasn’t too bad, either.

Of course, things always get bad when complacency sets in. He’d been absentmindedly sitting at their usual table in the mess when the rival group’s leader sat down across from him. Peter kept his head down and continued to eat. His break was only a few minutes and he wasn’t about to pass up the corn – it was one of the only good things in the whole damn place. Steve cleared his throat a couple of times before Peter looked up at him, a blank look on his face.

“What can I do for your, Rogers?” Peter asked, his voice dry, dull – the pitch of it like he was bored, or something. Tony told him not to engage with the man, they’d been friends or partners at one point, but things went south. The older man didn’t give details and Peter didn’t ask. He simply looked up and tilted his head, the utensil they were allowed gripped tightly in his hand.

“I just wanted to have a little conversation. It’s not often someone comes in and charms the pants off of Tony Stark. Thought I’d get to know a little more about you.” His leer made Peter want to jump out of his seat – the look one that Quill used to throw at him when he’d meet up with him for fill-ups. He didn’t like it then and he sure as hell didn’t like it now. The hair on his neck stood up, his mouth suddenly tongue tied.

A strong hand wrapped around his neck before he could get any words out, the touch immediately recognizable – “He’s not interested, Rogers. As a matter of fact, you sitting in front of him is offending the fuck out of him, isn’t it, Pete?” Tony gripped his neck tightly, his fingers squeezing enough to have Peter tilting his head back a little, eyes wide as he looked at him.

“Yes sir,” he answered swiftly, brown eyes never leaving Tony.

He heard a scoff across the table and felt the whole thing move a little when Steve got up from it. Peter tilted his head down and watched him square up towards Tony, a bunch of emotions tumbling across his eyes in a flash. “You can’t protect him forever, Stark. I’ll find a way to bring you down.” Steve held Tony’s gaze for a moment longer, then turned around and stalked back to his own table, his cronies immediately circling around him.

Tony took a seat next to him and gripped his cheeks. It wouldn’t be long before a guard yelled at him to drop his hands and break apart, so he spoke quickly. “Don’t engage him again. Do you hear me? Rogers is trouble and you’re a target because of me.” His thumbs brushed over Peter’s cheeks quickly, the show of affection rare, especially out in the open like this. Peter blinked a couple of times and nodded, his head in a billion different directions. The small bubble of safety he’d been so immersed in suddenly felt close to popping, his heart slamming against his chest in fear for just a moment.

“I hear you, Tony. I won’t. Promise.” Peter knew the words were true, too. His only desire was to make it out of this alive. At this point in time, Tony offered him the most protection and he wasn’t stupid enough to step outside of it. Clint banged his baton against the edge of their table, effectively pulling them apart. “Hands to yourselves, gentleman,” the guard said, a quirk in his lip as he spoke.

He had that same look on his face when he stepped away from the entrance to the showers a little while later. Peter didn’t hear Bucky until his face was thrumming from the first punch. His foot slipped on the shower floor below him and he hit the tiles hard, his right side protesting his weight. He felt feet slam into his chest and stomach, the lower part of his back and his legs. Curling up into a ball, Peter tried to keep himself as small as possible, the less surface area for them to hit, the less impact he’d have to deal with.

They stopped when he physically couldn’t struggle any longer – all of his limbs like jelly now that the ache and throb of all of his injuries made him feel numb. It took way too long for him to sit up and when Clint eventually came back to his post by the door, he radioed in the incident with a disastrous look on his face. Peter would’ve scowled at him if his eyes weren’t swollen shut.

His stay in the hospital was brief, the stitches on the side of his cheek the worst of the damage. All of the bruises would have to heal on their own, the purple and yellow of them going to be there for a while, if the physician they let him see was to be believed. He got released between mess and yard time, so he stumbled behind his guard until he could see his cell, the place feeling like coming home after 36 hours in nothing but white, his arms and legs strapped to a bed.

The second the new guard on the block, Bruce, left him in the cell, Tony flew off the bed and pulled Peter into his arms. He held back the wince from Tony’s too tight grip, the feeling of the older man’s hands was worth the throb of the bruises that littered his body. Peter let his arms drape loosely around Tony’s hips, his entire being tired – his limbs were beaten, his brain was all over the place; all he wanted to do was lay on the hard mat of his bed and slip into oblivion for a while.

Tony must have noticed because he dragged Peter to his side of the room and followed him onto the bed. Peter rolled towards the wall and shut his eyes, the ability to be in any position other than on his back a true godsend. He felt Tony’s scruff brush against the back of his neck, then heavy arms pulled him until he was pressed against the older man’s chest.

“I took care of it, Pete. No one is ever going to touch you again. No one.” Tony’s voice was gruff, despite not raising above a whispered.

“You’re mine and no one touches what’s mine.”