#this is a peter parker curls and hugs appreciation post

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Made for Him VIII

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, blood and gore, violence, death, grief, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Peter finds himself alone after the loss of those around him, so he decides to find a cure to his grief.

Characters: Peter Parker

Note: I’m posting this just cause I can.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.

Love you all like Garfield loves lasagna. Take care. 💖

The Creator

She's been quiet. He can't pretend not to know why. He was impatient, thoughtless. But the thought of what he did still made him twitch. He slept and dreamt of doing it again, of doing more, and even in his waking hours, he slipped away into the fantasy.

That morning she ate eggs with jam, silent as she chewed and stared at the table. She would stop and put down her fork, eyes wide, and slowly touch her cheeks. She would feel around then go back to her breakfast. It was only after the third time he realised she was searching for tears.

She was almost inconsolable the night he lost control. He tried to comfort her but she hid in the corner and rocked as her face streaked wetly. He left her in exasperation as she poked her fingers in and out of her mouth, making herself almost sick.

He told her all about it. Explained everything. He didn't understand why she didn't understand. It agitated him because she could learn her letters and numbers well enough but she couldn't learn to love him? To want him?

No, she did. He made her that way. He made her for him and no one else.

He broke away from the doorway where he leaned and watched her. She scraped clean her plate and looked up at him. She smiled but it wavered perilously as she set down her fork.

"Peter," she said in that way she did, a question and statement at once.

"All done?" He asked, keeping his tone light.

"Done," she announced and curled her fingers to her palms before hiding them under the table. She almost bounced in her chair as her eyes flitted back and forth but never fell upon him, "good."

He took her plate and retreated. Fuck. He went too fast. He knew it but he just hadn't been able to stop himself. He needed to do something. Something nice.

"I was thinking," he spoke above the buzz of the faucet as he rinsed her plate, "we could go back to the beach."

"Beach?" She echoed, "oh! Yes!" He looked at her as she clapped on the table in excitement, "beach for real?"

"Yes, really," he assured her as he dried his hands, "and we can maybe go in the water. I have a bathing suit for you–"

"Water?" Her eyes rounded and her fingers twiddled anxiously, "water is big and… deep."

"I'll go with you. Don't worry."

"Worry," she nodded as she tasted the word, "I worry. A lot."

"About the water?" 

She paused. She stared at him and he nearly winced as her eyes narrowed in thought, "yes."

It was a lie. He saw right through it. He fought the frown tugging at his lips and shrugged.

"Just say close," he ignored the thought in the back of his mind, the one that made his chest compress and burn, "I'll take care of you."

"Close," she said softly and lowered her gaze to the table, "yes."

The Creation 

You stood in the sand staring out at the lapping foam, listening to noise of gargantuan waves rolling out before the next rose. The sun reflected in the surface, rippling in streaks of gold and silver and swirling into the depths. 

You hugged yourself as the water got close to your toes and you stepped back before it could touch you. As if bitten, you stumbled and squealed. Peter chuckled and caught your arm, gentle but firm enough to stop you.

"It's okay," he coaxed, "it's like… a big bath. You like baths."

You thought and looked again to the depths, the great unknown vastness, and the endless distance where it touched the sky. You weren't a fan of baths, they were neither hot nor cold, and Peter didn't like it when you splashed him or made too much bubbles.

"Precious, please," he dropped his hand to yours and tapped your palm with his fingers, "I'll hang on tight."

You pressed your lips tight and let him twine his fingers with yours. A crawling sensation scuttled over your skin and you wanted desperately to swat him away. When he touched you, you thought of that night and the strange thing he did. The way he did not hear your horror for his pleasure, the salty flow that expelled at the end and stained your mouth. The way your tears singed your skin, a heat you could feel spilling from within.

"Precious?" He asked again and tugged on your arm.

"Tight," you squeezed his hand as shiver ran through you, like when he was in your mouth.

He urged you forward and you dragged your feet in the sand, the grains scattering away and shifting to wet silt. The water licked at your feet and you yiped but told yourself to continue on. Get it over with, make him happy, and you can run back to the beach. To the safety of the sun and sand.

You went further, the weight of the water slowing you, pushing against your strength. Your calves, knees, thighs, and the edge of the tiny flowered bottoms you wore. 

A sudden lurch of water shoved you one way  then the other, and you latched onto Peter's arm as your feet slipped on the slick sea floor. You cried out and turned to him, hugging him as he stood unaffected by the sway. You felt like crying again, of wailing and running back to shore.

"Precious," he pet your head, "I got you, please."

You quivered as another bulging wave crashed into you, pushing you against him so he shifted just slightly. He hugged you closer and laughed, “see, it’s alright.”

“I don’t like it, Peter,” you whimpered, “please–”

“Come on, let’s have some fun!” He put you at arm’s length, “we won’t go any further, okay?”

“Hmm, yes,” you frowned and he let you go hesitantly. You planted your feet and leaned back against the wall of water as it sent foam over your shoulder, “I stay. For you.”

He smiled and stirred his hands in the water, drawing your eyes down. As you looked, he turned his hands up and threw up a splash, soaking you with the swipe of his arm. You sputtered and teetered, mouth open in surprise.

“Peter!” You touched your cheeks, “what doing?”

“Fun,” he said and sprayed more water as he brought his hands up again.

“No!” You dipped your hands under and heaved an armload in his direction.

Water fell over him, droplets beading in his red curls and dripping down his face, sparkling over his pales skin. You giggled in amusement as he acted offended and returned another cascade of water in your direction. You splashed him again and a storm of water rose between you, lashing around carelessly as you forgot your fear.

Before you knew it, you were slaked with water, the salt made your lips and skin feel brittle. You slipped as you tried to dodge Peter's next spray and ambled around him awkwardly. It was never like this but you liked it. Careless, free, no worry for learning or thinking, just playing and laughing.

You gasped as a flash of water fell over you as a wave crested into your back. Frightened, you shouldered past Peter. Your legs moved slow through the sea and towards the sand, out of breath as you pumped your arms and fought through the resistance. You heard him behind you, felt his fingertips brush your back. 

Your feet hammered onto the sand and you ran for the blanket spread with a basket and his disposed book. He was close as you got to the hem and he crashed into you from behind. You flew forward and exclaimed as he landed atop you. You wiggled and roll over as he lifted himself slightly over you. 

You touched his chest as he chuckled and you felt the rumble within. He sighed as he settled and caught his breath, your own coming easier as you laid beneath him. He shifted onto his elbow, leaning against you as he framed your chin.

"Fun?" He asked.

"Yes," you trilled as you pushed on him, "very fun. You fun!"

He caressed your check with his fingertips as his breathing slowed but his heart pounded under your palm. His throat bobbed as he looked down at you and you tried to peer past him. His hand trailed down to your neck and he toyed with the strap of your top. Your own chest fluttered and beat frantically. 

"You're so beautiful, precious," he cooed, "do you know that?"

Your hand brushed up to grip his shoulder. You felt as if you were trapped under a blanket, the air thick as it caught in your lungs. He dipped his head and you were helpless to his affection. He kissed you, gently at first, and you let him, but it wasn't like that time before. The first time that made you want to sing.

His touch trailed down your arm and traced the curve of your chest. He lingered on the rise of flesh, of the curves of your body, exploring carefully the criss cross of scars. You squirmed as the reminder of your marred complexion jabbed in your skull and pricked your eyes. You didn't feel beautiful against his unscathed skin.

His tongue delved past your lips and you murmured around it. He clutched your side as his stomach settled against yours, his knee pushed between your legs, his heat cocooning you in another layer of futility.

He wandered to your hips, tickling your skin as he hummed. You stiffened as his thumb poked under the top of your bottoms and he rolled his pelvis, grinding against your crotch. You gasped into his mouth and caught his wrist.

He slipped free easily as he edged further beneath the fabric. You twitched and grabbed  his forearm. He wrestled with you and his hand grazed your soft patch of hair. You bit down in a panic as your mind returned to the bedroom, to your knees against the hard floor, and the way your head throbbed from your strained breaths.

He yelped and pushed off you, sitting back on his heels as he felt his mouth. His brow furrowed and his forehead wrinkled.

"What the–" he lisped and you pulled yourself back with your elbows as you dug your heels in. You backed away from him and flipped onto your stomach.

"Sorry," you whispered, "sorry," you repeated louder as you climbed to your feet and staggered away, "no, sorry! No, can't!"

You ran up the beach, tripping in the sand as you scrambled away. You didn't look back as you raced up the trail and followed the incline up to where you saw the house and the great tall tree behind it. 

You refused to peek back as you heard him coming for you, as his anger laced his shout, "precious, get back here."

You whimpered and huffed up the steps to the door and burst through the door. 

"Listen to me!" He snarled as he came in behind you, his arm snaking around your waist as he pulled you back, "precious! You hurt me."

He spun you and slammed your back to the wall as he held your shoulders. You cried out as you batted your lashes and tears spilled out. You swallowed and apologised again, your mouth dry and throat tight.

"Sorry, Pet–"

"Stop crying," he sneered, "stop it! You have no reason to cry. Why are you crying?"

"I don't know… can't stop." You squeaked as he gripped your jaw, "Peter… scared!"

"Scared? Of what?" He spat.

Your eyes rounded as you braced the wall, "Peter! I scared… of… Peter!"

His dark eyes narrowed as he growled, "scared of me? Of me?" His voice rose with each word, "I give you everything and all I ask for is your love. Don't you love me?"

You stared at him, shaking as his grasp hurt your jaw. You sniffled and rested your hand on his wrist, "I love Peter. Big love. But… what do not love. What do is… pain."

His gaze darkened and his hand fell to your throat, "you don't know what pain is," he uttered as he leaned in until his nose touched yours, "you don't know because I–" he stopped himself and snorted, "you will never know pain but you cannot deny me love. I won't let you." 

"Peter, please," you gulped.

"Please?" He scoffed, "please? Precious, you're hurting me. Don't you understand?"

You shook. You didn't understand but you wanted to. You didn't want to hurt him. You wanted to make him happy.

"Sorry, very sorry, how… how make better?" You quavered.

He watched you and his eyes drifted down to his hand as he dragged it to your chest. His lashes flicked back up as he stared at you. His tongue peeked out between his lips, "you have to learn," he said, "I'll show you how."

[starkermeup]

Be a Good Boy for Mr. Stark

Peter shows Tony how appreciative he is of him.

Or what should of happened in the car ride home in Homecoming.

Cross-Posted on AO3

.

.

.

Peter smiled warmly as Mr. Stark talked to him, trying hard to focus on his words, while also attempting to convince himself that this was really happening. His role model and idol The Tony Stark, thinks he's special and deserving of his attention, to be even a future avenger, it was still a lot to take in. But he was loving every minute of it.

"Are you listening kid?" Mr. Stark asks, frowning at the prospect of being ignored and it takes Peter right out of his stupor. He nods his head shyly and blushes when he looks into Tony's dark chocolate eyes. That was going to take some getting used to he decides. "Because I don't like repeating myself."

"Y-yes, Mr. Stark. I heard you loud and clear. I was just thinking about everything you're doing for me and I feel so lucky and thankful that you'd take a chance on me." Peter finishes rather lamely and looks down nervously as he fumbles with his phone.

Tony stares at him with a raised eyebrow and it is then that Peter realizes the limo had stopped moving. Mr. Stark smiles at him then, but in a way Peter had yet to witness prior. He suddenly leans over Peter and Peter's confused but hugs the man regardless. If Mr. Stark wanted to hug him, there was no way he would deny him.

Tony waves his hand dismissively at the window and the figure on the other side walks away. Peter shivers when he feels Mr. Stark's hot breath on his ear.

"There is one way you can show your gratitude for my kindness Peter." Tony says and Peter feels chills run up his body. "You want to show me how grateful you are?"

The teenager blushes harder and clutches his mentor's expensive jacket. Mr. Stark couldn't be serious could he? There's no way he's talking about...

Tony guides Peter's hand down from his shoulder, down his suit until he stops on something hard and Peter audibly gasps when he realizes it’s his mentor's cock. He was aroused and it was for Peter of all people. He felt dizzy with realization and something hotter as Mr. Stark rubbed Peter's hand over his own crotch.

"Well? What will it be Mr. Parker? Are you thankful? Are you going to be a good boy and show me how thankful you are?" Tony asks smoothly, like he's completely unaffected by the movements of Peter's hand. Peter wants to change that. He whimpers at the good boy comment, feeling himself get harder by the second.

"Y-yes Sir I want to. I w-wanna show you how much I appreciate you." Peter says and he's not sure what he wants or what Mr. Stark wants from him but he's more than onboard for whatever because Mr. Stark wants him.

Tony smiles against his neck and brushes a fleeting kiss there. "Good boy. Now get on your knees." Mr. Stark says the last part with an edge and Peter finds himself dropping to the flooring of the limo before he really knows what he's doing. "Take it out, show me how grateful you are Peter." Mr. Stark motioned towards his crotch and Peter's mouth goes dry as he carefully takes out his mentor's cock with shaky fingers. Before he knows it, Tony's cock comes into view, much thicker and longer than his own. Peter's breathe hitches at the sight and his mouth waters. Mr. Stark was huge. The girth of it alone was making Peter anxious with the fear of letting his mentor down. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Sir, I-I don't know what to do..." Peter hesitates. Instead of frowning like the teenager anticipated, Tony smiled at him again and reached out to ruffle the boy's hair.

"That's okay, I'll help you through it. Wrap your hand around the base and lick the tip." Mr. Stark says easy like he was explaining bio-tech and not teaching his mentee to give him head. Peter nodded and did as he was told, gapping at the way his hand couldn't fully wrap around the sheer girth of the cock. He leans down, shyly licking the head a few times feeling the taste of salt and pre-cum on his tongue. Tony hums pleased at his efforts but tugs on Peter's curls edging him further down his length. "Don't be shy, I wanna see just how appreciative you are." Mr. Stark says and Peter can read between the lines to what he means. "Breathe through your nose." The man above him adds.

Peter closed his eyes and sucked hard as he allows his mouth to take the whole head in his mouth. Mr. Stark groans at the sensation and Peter wanted to smile that he's getting The Tony Stark off. It motivates him to take the man deeper, feeling his jaw start to ache from the thick cock.

"Hmm, yeah that's so good, Peter. You really are such a good boy, aren’t you? Showing me how grateful you are, how much you want it. Such a good boy..." Tony praises him and it makes Peter moan around him. He wants to be Tony's good boy, wants to make him feel good.

He's nearly to the base when his gag reflex kicks in and he pulls off embarrassed, coughing a little.

"I-I'm sorry Sir. I-I don't think I can take it all in my mouth." He resisted the urge to add yet because Mr. Stark probably won't want him to show his appreciation again after this. His heart sinks at the thought. He couldn't have that. "Can I try again please?"

Mr. Stark stared at his mentee, hair disheveled, eyes blown and lips puffy. All this from a little dicksucking. Amazing. He pondered. "Of course baby." Tony said, petting Peter's already messy hair.

Peter's heart fluttered and his cock twitched at the word. Mr. Stark just called him baby. Baby of all things and Peter felt hot all over as he sucked his mentor back into his mouth. Peter closed his eyes again and rolled his tongue, going up and down on the cock, thinking of all the best porn he'd seen, trying to imitate what they did. It seems to be working as Tony's groaning nonstop with his hand securely in Peter's hair, not yanking but simply guiding the boy down.

"Fuck. You're doing so good baby. Keep it up, let me see your eyes. I want you to remember who you're thanking accordingly. Remember who this mouth belongs to from now on." Tony says, thrusting his hips up in time with Peter opening his eyes. Tony seeing Peter's big orbs widen as he gags on his cock. Tony groans at the sinfulness of the act in front of him.

Peter whines but doesn't pull off, instead focuses on breathing through his nose and rutting his hips against the floor desperate for some friction. As his mentor gently fucked his mouth, praising him, Peter couldn't believe his fate, his role model and crush since he was a kid wanting him like this. It was almost too much. Mr. Stark had said his mouth belongs to him now. Peter whimpers at the idea as he hollowed his cheeks. That would be nice he thinks, to be owned by Tony Stark. He wants it. Craves it even.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum baby. Gonna bust my load in your mouth and you're gonna swallow every last drop. You're going to show me just how grateful you are." Tony utters and stares at Peter as he comes hard down the boy's throat.

Buried to the hilt of his mentor's cock, Peter had no choice but to gulp down the waves of warm cum the best he could, eyes not leaving his mentor. Despite the act they just committed, somehow staring at one another like this, felt like the most intimate thing they had done. Peter pulls off when he thinks he got it all and suddenly feeling very exposed.

"M-Mr. Stark..." Peter says and a small string of cum on his bottom lip, connected to the tip of the man's softening cock. He isn't sure where he's going with this. Although he isn't given a chance to finish because Tony groans as he grabs him up and planting the boy in his lap. Peter blushed at the sitting arrangement. Even though, Tony was soft now, he was still big and Peter could feel it on his thigh. It made him moan desperately. "Please, S-Sir I need to-" Tony hushes him with a finger to his lips.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you baby," The older man says and he looks even better up close like this, so handsome and god, did he smell good. Peter tried to close the small distance between their lips but Mr. Stark beats him to it, tugging Peter forward by the curls at the back of his head. Peter gaps, immediately clinging to Tony. He moaned as his mentor worked his mouth open, feeling like jelly in his embrace. His first kiss, going to Mr. Stark, he whines with realization, unintentionally grinding down, which made him whine more from the friction.

Peter must have got caught up in the rolling of their tongues because he doesn't even notice Mr. Stark's hand traveling down his back and around until he lets out a high pitch moan in the kiss. Tony presses hard on the teen's confined hard-on.

"Look at you, so hard just from cock sucking. You just aim to please, don't you Peter? Always being such a good boy...I think you deserve a reward." Tony says against the boy's mouth. He slides his hand into Peter's jeans and wraps it around his throbbing cock, Peter leans forward from the friction, resting his forehead against the older man's shoulder. Noises he can't contain slip out as Tony works his cock up and now.

"G-god, M-Mr. Stark I-I" Peter can't even finish his sentence, too focused on the heat of his mentor's hand on him. It felt incredible, another first taken by Mr. Stark and he was getting off on it. He couldn't help the way his hips move on their own, only moaning more when Tony lets him.

"That's it Peter. Fuck my fist like the needy little thing you are. I want you to cum like this. Good boys do as they're told so be a good boy and cum baby." Tony whispers into the boy's ear, jerking him faster.

Peter isn't sure exactly what takes him overboard, he'd bet it was the 'good boy' or 'baby' comment. Either way, Peter was coming and whining as Tony worked his cock completely, milking it of every drop until he was soft and sensitive. Peter collapsed on top of his mentor, completed sedated, trying to catch his breath as the latter pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket.

"Hm, you made a mess of my suit jacket." Tony clicked his tongue and Peter blushes with embarrassment.

"I-I I'm sorry sir. I didn't mean to. It just felt so g-good..." Peter says and he's staring down at the man's chest. Tony tips his head up, so they're eye level and presses a kiss against the boy's lips. He pulls away shortly afterwards (much to Peter's disappointment) and smirks at him.

"Since you were getting your reward, it's alright this time but-" Mr. Stark stops as he holds Peter's jaw in place, looking at him with dark orbs. "If you do it again, I'm gonna make you clean it up with your tongue, understand? Good boys don't make messes."

"Y-yes Mr. Stark, I'll be more careful next time." Peter says, still floating from the best orgasm he ever had. Again. Mr. Stark wanted to do it again with him and that was definitely something Peter could get behind.

"I know you will," Mr. Stark says accordingly and puts himself back into his slacks, Peter can't help but watch, still in disbelief the cock was just in his mouth. "You're a good boy."

[obligatorynasty]

ObligatoryNasty’s Starker Prompt Graveyard (pt. 1) ✨~I’m cleaning house ~✨

So I basically fell off the face of the internet for like a year and left a bunch of unfinished prompts in my wake. (I know, I kinda suck for that) But it’s been so long that a lot of them no longer spark joy and I’m so sorry!! 😔😔😔

I decided to just post some of what I had written from before and give some meta of what I would’ve done with each prompt. Apologies for any typos! ❤️

-

The Vibration Situation (Peter x Tony)

Peter’s heart thrummed in his chest as he dashed through the crosswalk. He was running late today; partially due to the delayed bus but mostly due to the instructions Tony unexpectedly texted him this morning. Not that he was complaining but getting a thing like that to fit comfortably takes a little bit of time. Even with his efforts in the shower, it still felt tight, especially as he hurried down the New York sidewalk.

As he finally made it down the two blocks, he approached his destination: Stark Tower. “Hi Tones!” He called out with a wave as he jogged up the steps, catching his breath with a smile as he stopped in front of Tony. “Sorry, we’re you waiting long?”

“Not at all,” Tony smiled, pulling Peter into a hug and locking his fingers at the small of Peter’s back as they talked. “Signed a few autographs, took some pictures with the adoring fans, the usual.”

Peter hummed, shifting his weight to his toes to press to quick kiss against Tony’s cheek. “Everyone’s favorite hero,” He whispered into another kiss.

Tony grinned, “Pretty sure Capsicle has me beat on that front.”

“Well, you’re my favorite hero.” Peter pointedly said, smiling sweetly.

“And you, mine,” Tony reciprocated, returning the smile in earnest before suddenly being interrupted by a paparazzi.

“Mr. Stark, Peter, over here! For the Bugle!” The man with the camera called out, interested in snapping a shot of the media’s favorite new couple. Their names had been in the news for weeks now after that first lucky paparazzi photo of them kissing in their suits. How the paparazzi managed to get that rooftop top photo, they would never know.

Tony smiled, shifting his stance to pose for pictures, arm around Peter’s waist. And as the camera flashed, he leaned over, whispering with a smile, “Did you bring it, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter whispered back, waving with one hand and slipping a small remote into Tony’s jacket pocket with the other.

“Good,” Tony nodded, gripping tighter at Peter’s waist. “Just keep smiling, Pete.” He said as he switched on the remote, a playful test to see just how obedient Peter was.

Peter flinched, catching a breath in his throat, fighting the urge to moan as the vibrations pulsed within him and massaged his prostate. In any other situation, he would have screamed. But not in front of the paparazzi. No, in front of them, he remained poised, gripping at the back of Tony’s jacket like a lifeline and whining low through his teeth. He was grateful that he decided to wear a longer coat today, or else the headlines would have been riddled with pictures of his ever-growing bulge.

“Alright everyone, Mr. Parker and I have reservations. No more pictures please,” Tony waved the paparazzi away, clasping his hand in Peter’s and leading him the car.

As Tony ushered him into the car, Peter focused on walking and how much he didn’t want to anymore. Each step made the toy press harder into his sweet spot, firing pleasure up his spine that made his eyes sting with tears as he choked back moans. Once they were finally in the car, Tony let up, switching off the toy with a grin as he pulled the car away from the curb. “You did well, Peter.”

“That was a lot, Tones,” Peter spoke between exhales as he tried catching his breath that he didn’t realize he was holding.

“When we get to the restaurant, can I take it out?” Peter asked, genuinely convinced they were done.

But Tony just laughed, it was almost sympathetic. Almost. “You won’t be taking that out until the end of the day, my love.”

A/N: That was all I had for this one. But, in a perfect world, I would’ve had them go to a fancy restaurant. And of course, Tony being Tony, he turns the vibrator on again as Peter is ordering. Peter is a stuttering and blushing mess, maybe the waiter starts to catch on, but Tony plays it off and orders for them both. Toss in some “Good boy, Peter”s and some “Thank you, sir”s. 

Then they would’ve gone to a movie premiere. Maybe walked a red carpet. Tony would keep putting his hand in his pocket like he’ll turn it on but he doesn’t. (He’s just playing mind games lol.) Instead, he turns it on once they’ve been seated. The theater is small so they’re relatively far from others. This time, he doesn’t stop it. Just keeps it on low until the louder parts of the movie. The ups and downs start getting to Peter, and when they head to the after party, he really starts to beg to cum whenever they get a second alone. And as they mingle with the others, Tony practically tortures Peter through that as well. Then Peter starts to fall into subspace, which is Tony’s cue to finally leave the party and head back to the Tower. Promising that, “We’re still not done, sweetheart.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Unexpected but Inevitable. (Penny X Tony) TW: character death

“Penny Parker, is it?” Tony hums, claiming the adjacent bar stool as his own, wordlessly gesturing to the bartender for a drink. It is only after glancing up and down the span of her body did he stare into Penny’s dark eyes, relaxing his tie with a short tug and taking the whiskey neat without brandishing thanks. His frame is powerful and expecting; the bustle of the elite after-event unable to cloud the glint of arrogance hiding beyond his playful eyes.

Despite his efforts, Penny doesn’t take the bait. Instead, she smooths her hand against the black satin of her dress, flattening the ripples across her thighs. As she moves, so does the light refracting off the studded clutch hanging from a chain on her shoulder. She sits silently, swirling the last sip of her metropolitan before finishing it and placing the lipstick stained glass against a napkin. As the bartender takes the glass, she smiles and speaks a clear, “Thank you.” The bartender nods and moves to serve other patrons.

The interaction has Tony’s ego bleeding outward. “Ignoring the man that invited your company is in poor taste, Ms. Parker.”

“Don’t speak to me about poor taste with the likes of Hammer on the invite list.” Penny quips, rotating her bar stool and throwing one leg over the other, letting the slit of her dress cascade open at the knee. “It seems to me that you’ve taken a clear stance on the value of my company.”

Tony laughs. It’s earnest and only quelled by the burn of whiskey against his tongue. “A preconceived stance, yes,” He admits, grinning as his gaze strays in favor of Penny’s show of skin. “Your presentation at the conference was actually impressive but don’t let that go to your head. People tend to do that when I say the ‘I’ word.”

This time, Penny just barely leans in, gives a soft smile and slight tilt of her head. She lets her bobbed curls bounce against the corner of her mouth before tucking them behind her ear. Each movement is careful, reciprocal and seductive. “And what exactly did you find so impressive, Mr. Stark?”

Tony moves closer, forearm against the bar, hand cradling his drink. “The strength of the synthesize material, its elasticity, its practical and combative use cases.” His voice dipped, somewhere sultry, “And Ms. Parker, watching you deliver the presentation was – well, I’ll definitely be inviting your company to more suitable events from now on.”

Penny averts her gaze, giving the bustling room a once over as she fights against a grin tugging on the corners of her mouth. “I’m sure my employees will be thrilled.”

“And you?” Tony reaches forward, placing a careful hand atop Penny’s.

Her eyes flicker down at the touch then flash upward to meet Tony’s. “I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Stark.” She whispers as she stands, heels colliding with tile as she pulls a hundred dollar bill from her clutch. “But don’t let that go to your head.” She adds with a smile, placing the money against the bar. “For mine and his,” She calls to the bartender, who nods with a kind smirk.

Tony scoffs, abandoning his drink as he stood. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We all do things that we don’t have to do,” Penny insists as she starts towards the crowd. “Kind or otherwise.”

“So you’re the selfless type,” Tony remarks as he quickens his pace to keep up with her strides. “Or is it all for your company? Just how many generous donations has Parker Industries made to rain forests, world hunger, and whales?”

Penny shakes her head as they exit the hotel’s ballroom. “You’re quite the cynic, Mr. Stark.”

“I’m quite the believer in a good PR team,” Tony retorts as they make their way down the hall, through the reception lobby, and stop in front of the elevators.

Penny reaches forward, pressing the up arrow before shifting her weight to one side and standing with her arms crossed. “Your PR team—“ She breaks the silence as the elevator opens and they step inside. “—Have they solved your issues across the pond?”

Tony smirks, tapping his room key against the scanner before pressing the penthouse button. “As far as I, and anyone else, is concerned, those issues are for the greater good.”

“And the bodies?”

“What bodies?”

Penny shakes her head at the casual denial she but manages a smile with her eyes, “Fair enough.”

“Which floor, Ms. Parker?” Tony asks as the doors close and the elevator starts ascending.

“Fifteen.”

Tony presses the button and moves to stand at her side, “I was sure this went without saying but—“

Penny breathes a low laugh, “It went without saying?”

“—You’re invited to continue our chat upstairs.” Tony’s grin is as mischievous as it is suggestive. “I promise it will be very in depth and... pleasurable.”

Penny tucks a curl behind her ear, glancing at Tony before focusing her gaze on the elevator’s doors. She stays quiet, keeping a soft smile as the numbers above the doors increment: twelve… thirteen... fourteen... and finally, fifteen. The elevator slows to a stop and the doors slide open with an audible ding!

But Penny doesn’t move. Instead, she watches as the doors shut and listens as Tony releases a pleased huff of air like his hypothesis had been proven. So arrogant, Penny thinks.

When the doors open again, it’s to a mostly glass penthouse suite, complete with a grand piano, high ceilings, and a balcony pool. The bar’s selves are stocked and the coffee table is covered with an assortment of treats courtesy of the hotel’s staff, who are no doubt thrilled to have the room be booked. As Penny steps inside, she makes a point to move through the space unimpressed. She removes her heels in the entrance way and places her clutch atop the bar.

“What do you think?” Tony asks as he pulls his tie away and tosses it onto the couch. “Too much?”

“To clean, perhaps,” Penny jokes and Tony laughs.

“You’re an interesting one, Penny.”

“One,” Penny repeats as she unclasps her necklace and removes her earrings, placing them inside her clutch and pulling out a small metal bracelet, which she slips on when Tony isn’t looking. “Implying many.”

“I’ve had experiences,” Tony notes as they move into the bedroom.

“All good, I hope.”

“There’s always someone better,” He asserts, his voice just as sultry as before.

Penny almost rolls her eyes – actually, she is so certain she will that she turns around to hide it and plays it off by sweeping her curls to one side, revealing her dress’s zipper. “Would you?” She asks but Tony is already there; one hand smoothing across the curve of her hip, the other pulling the zipper down her spine.

As the dress falls away, all that’s left is simple black lace set and the metal bracelet adorning her supple honey cream skin, speckled lightly with freckles and soft to the touch. Penny spins on her heel, her hands tracing up Tony’s chest and smoothing downward, undoing buttons on her way.

A/N: I literally had a break here that said: “Write sex scene. Tony’s great at sex. Penny is better.” I’m so so sorry 😅😅😅 But just imagine Penny riding the hell out of Tony and then getting close orgasming and then:

And as that stream rushes through that final barrier, Penny’s muscles tense and her voice is caught in her throat and suddenly, she is shaking and the biggest burst of pleasure is quickly followed by waves that have her moaning so loud it echoes in the vast room. She still rocks her hips with the sparks of euphoria, chasing the waning feeling, her hands still braced against Tony’s chest as he grunts and a liquid heat explodes inside her warmth. She smiles, gliding her fingertips across his nipples, along his neck and face, and through his short locks.

“There’s always someone better,” Tony breathes out with a satisfied smile.

Penny’s expression flattens then and, with her hand still threaded in Tony’s hair, she lifts herself up and moves to straddle his chest. He’s still smiling, so lost in his pleasure that the way she shoves his head back and grips at his throat is nothing.

“Feisty,” Tony mutters through a strained breath.

Penny shakes her head, “You’re deplorable.”

“And you’re divine.”

Fitting lasts words, Penny thinks as she sprays webbing across his nose and mouth. She watches as the playfulness drains from his eyes; watches the concern, worry, and fear sink in. He starts struggling for a moment but then stops – smart enough to conserve his breath.

Penny leans down, petting a soothing hand through his hair and whispering sweetly, “I’ve been hired to kill you, Tony.” She presses a kiss against his forehead. “Those issues across the pond – all of the bodies you’ve ignored – they have ghosts and they are angry.”

And Tony lays there – struggling for air and overcome with regret – staring up at a goddess of death as his vision blurs and he is forced into meeting an unexpected yet inevitable demise.

-

I’ll be posting more tomorrow in graveyard pt. 2!

[ptergwen]

starting at the end

warnings: nope

summary: peter takes you to a new year’s eve party

a/n: hey hi i hope everyone’s christmas was lovely if you celebrated! this is gonna be my last post of the year which is so ??? i just want to say thank you for reading my work and in general being so sweet to me always. i really do appreciate all of you and i’ll talk to you next decade! and as always enjoy <3

—

peter is nervous. not that that’s anything he isn’t used to; being nervous is one of his personality traits. but this kind of nervous? it’s different. it’s the kind of nervous he gets only because of you. the amount of butterflies he has right now makes him feel like he’ll burst into millions of tiny pieces the second he sees you. he just really wants tonight to be perfect.

flash is throwing a new year’s eve party, and peter asked you to be his date. he’d been working up the courage for months now to ask you out. what convinced him to finally do it is that it’s the last day of the entire decade. he doesn’t want it to end without you knowing how he feels. now or never situations always give him the push he needs.

peter’s day is spent getting ready. he has may teach him new dance moves, calls ned for last minute tips on flirting, and does his hair the way you like it. you told him once before that his curls are “too pretty to drown them in so much gel,” then used your fingers to fix them. ever since, peter decided that would be his new hair style.

never having been to a new year’s eve party before, he texts you at some point to ask what he should wear. you’re pretty much his personal sylist. he brings you shopping basically every time he goes. it makes him all blushy when you watch him try on clothes, getting him to do a spin in them. peter always thinks the smile on your face is worth it.

you text peter back saying to dress how he usually does and rememeber to be at your apartment at seven, with a smiley face. his heart practically pounds out of his chest when he looks at the time and sees it’s a little past six thirty. your first date is happening so soon.

wanting to wear something you’ll like, peter ends up choosing a blue and white flannel you picked out for him. he throws on the rest of his clothes and shoes, then checks his hair one last time. may hugs peter and asks him tell you hi for her before he leaves to pick you up.

the walk to your apartment doesn’t take too long, which peter loves, except for tonight because he’s freaking out and has to keep wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. he goes over all ned’s advice while taking the stairs. when he makes it to the front door he’s been through so many times he can’t count, he just stands there. he uses the time to give himself a mental pep talk.

you got this, peter. it’s just y/n.

taking a breath, he knocks on the door. your dad opens it shortly after.

“hi, mr. y/l/n. how are you?” peter shakes the hand your dad extends. they’ve met a few times before. from what peter can tell, he likes him, or at least doesn’t mind him. “i’m good, thanks. how are you?” “i’m good, too. is y/n ready?” your dad glances back into your apartment. “i’ll check. do you want to wait inside?” he gestures for peter to come in. peter nods.

“sure. thank you, sir.” he follows with a small smile. peter hears you listening to a playlist he made you from your room. his smile gets even bigger at that. “y/n? peter is here,” your dad calls from in front of your door. “i’m coming!” the music shuts off, followed by fast footsteps. you spot peter right as you open the door. all of his nerves melt away when you make your way over to him.

you’re one of his best friends, what was there to ever worry about?

“hey!” you open your arms with a grin. peter dips down to give you a hug. “were you just listening to back in black?” “yep.” you tug at the bottom of peter’s flannel. “is this the one we bought you last weekend?” “mhm,” he hums proudly. the exchange makes your dad crack a smile from where he’s watching.

“you look... really good, peter. did you do your hair, too?” you bite your lip. the fact that you noticed makes him happier than probably ever.

“i thought you’d like it.” he offers you his (mostly dry) hand. taking it, you lace your fingers together. it’s not your first time holding hands, but there’s something new about this. a good new. “and you look beautiful, y/n.” “thank you,” you giggle. “we should probably go. wouldn’t wanna keep dj flash waiting.” peter laughs and nods. you turn to face your dad.

“bye! i’ll try not to be back too late.” “have fun, and stay safe! you too, peter. i’ll see you next year.” he waves goodbye. you wave back with your free hand, peter doing the same. the two of you leave your apartment, erupting into another short fit of laughter.

“dad jokes,” you sigh. you’re leading the way down the stairs. “that was nothing compared to the ones may makes. she says hi, by the way.” may is the sweetest. she’s always checking up on you. “aw, tell her i say hi back.” “yeah, of course.” peter gets more comfortable holding hands with you like this, running his thumb along the back of yours. it just feels right.

walking outside and into the windy night, you pull your phone out of your pocket. “flash texted me his address. i can navigate.” you wave your phone around to show peter the screen. “go for it. i have no idea where he even lives,” peter chuckles. you click your tongue at him jokingly. “oh, peter.”

there isn’t much to talk about on the way to flash’s apartment, since you and peter have hung out or facetimed every day of your winter break. the two of you communicate mostly by making weird faces at each other and pointing out random things that you see. as navigator, you also have to stop peter from walking in the wrong direction a couple of times. he doesn’t know where he’d be without you. literally.

it’s obvious which apartment is flash’s without even going inside the building. there’s blasting music and colorful lights showing from where you are. “i don’t know how we’ll ever be able to find flash’s place,” you say sarcastically, peter opening the door. “it’s almost like he doesn’t want us to,” he jokes.

you hold peter’s hand tighter as you two skip up the few flights of stairs it takes to get there. giving each other knowing looks, you both step inside.

“y/n and parker! you’re here!” flash leaves his dj table to greet you. he looks down at your intertwined hands. “guess i won’t be getting a new year’s kiss from you, huh?” your mouth drops open, you pushing flash’s shoulder. “get out of here, flash.” “i would, but i actually live here. gotta go queue up requests. you two lovebirds have fun!” he winks and points at peter before walking away.

“we will,” peter says just to you, laughing at your moment with flash. “he’s so...” “out there?” he finishes your sentence. “that’s one way to describe him.”

taking your other hand, peter tilts his head towards the crowd of people. “dance with me?” “god, yes.” a smile lights up your face as you pull peter further into the room until you two disappear into the crowd. peter twirls himself around you with your hand, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “not bad, peter.”

“thanks. may actually taught me how to dance a little bit.” he’s too pure. you put your arms around peter’s neck and move in closer to him. peter’s arms hug your waist. “really? what other moves did she teach you?”

peter dips you suddenly. you let out a small gasp, your breathing getting heavier as he holds you in place. he looks from your parted lips to your eyes before bringing you back up. “damn. can may give me a lesson sometime?” the two of you laugh breathlessly. peter moves his hands to your hips and sways you both. “if you’re serious, she definitely would.” “i’m so serious.”

you and peter spend so much time jumping around while flash plays the hits of the decade through his speakers. the only time you take a break is for snacks and soda, then it’s right back to dancing and singing along. you never want to leave peter’s arms. he never wants to stop holding you.

as it gets closer to midnight, flash puts on more chill songs. your head is resting on peter’s chest with your arms around his torso. he’s looking down at you, pulling you closer by your waist and moving you side to side slowly. “i’m really happy you asked me to come with you.” “me too.” peter gives you a tired smile.

“i was gonna ask you out myself if you didn’t ask me first.” “you were waiting for me to do it?” “yeah, peter. i like you a lot.” you close your eyes, sighing in content. “i like you even more,” he murmurs and closes his own eyes.

“one minute to midnight!” flash announces before either of you know it. people start scrambling to find who they want to be with when the year ends. you and peter stay right where you are. all you need is each other.

the one thing peter forgot to do was plan if and how he would kiss you. he doesn’t want to freak out and ruin the moment, so he tries to think of what may would tell him. something about not thinking at all. everybody is counting down from ten now, you included. peter just watches you.

“three, two, one, happy new year!” he hears. you’re about to say something, but peter’s lips on yours stop you. you kiss him back instantly, him leaning into it. you both pull back after with huge smiles. even though it didn’t last long, it was everything you’d ever hoped for. “what’s your new year’s resolution?” you yell over the noisemakers and cheers of people around you.

“to ask you to be my girlfriend,” peter surprises himself and you by saying. you take a step back to see him better. “that’s a dumb one.” peter’s nerves come back just like that. did he say the wrong thing? is he moving too fast? like you can read his mind, you peck his lips and hold his hands on your waist.

“resolutions are supposed to be goals you haven’t accomplished already.” he’s pretty much in shock at this point. “are you... are you saying you wanna be my girlfriend?” “i’m saying i really wanna be your girlfriend.” peter kisses you again without a second thought.

who would’ve guessed that the year ending would be the beginning of everything else?

[captainscanadian]

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 4)

My Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: Bucky has a lot of suspicions. Becca had the answers he needed.

Word Count: 6122

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Nurse!Wanda x Platonic!Reader, Nurse!MJ, Doctor!Sam (mentioned)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse & Alcoholism, Surgery, Organ Donation, IV & Needles, Emotional Distress, Physical Pain, Drugs, Hospital Stay, Blood

A/N: Sorry not sorry. Naynay, don’t kill me!

Being in and out of consciousness for God knows how long was certainly not something you were fond of. Not only were you completely unaware of what time of day it was or even what day it was for that matter, you were starting the hate the numbness that had been brought to you by the patient-control analgesia. Even the pain in your abdomen had become bearable now, but that did not help with the emotional distress that came with the numbness either.

When you had woken up from your drug-induced slumber, you had been greeted by an indescribable darkness that had blanketed over your hospital room. The lack of sunshine peaking through the gaps between the curtains were reason enough for you to assume that it was now nightfall. Your first instinct had been to turn over to your side towards the chair next to your bed, a part of you hoping that the man who had been sitting by your bedside when you had fallen asleep was still there. But much to your disappointment, he wasn’t.

You let out a soft groan at the pain that you felt on your side, thankful that the numbness was finally starting to dissolve. You hoped that would give you enough time to feel like a functioning human being for once before the next programmed dosage kicks in.

“Y/N?” The sound of a tired Sam Wilson calling out your name made you let out a sigh. “Are you awake? How are you feeling?”

You reached your hand up to rub your eyes, letting out another groan. “W-Wilson.” You croaked out, your throat had been dry every single time you woke up and you hated it. “Where’s Barnes?”

MJ had been at your bedside within seconds of you pressing your call button for a nurse. “Dr. Y/L/N, you’re awake.” She gave you a warm smile that showed a sense of relief, her coffee-induced talkative sense taking over her in an instant. “I mean, of course I knew that. Dr. Wilson told me that you woke up just before he was paged down to the ER, but I wasn’t going to come in here unless you called me. How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Do you want me to page Dr. Parker for you? He’s on call right now, probably just crashing in an on call room. Or Dr. Romanoff, she’s not in but I can call her too if you need-”

“MJ.” You cut her off as you let out a weak chuckle, wincing slightly at the pain that followed. “The pain’s a little better now but I’m still feeling a little loopy so... I probably won’t be pumping any drugs into my body until the next scheduled dosage. You can start off by telling me what day it is and... can you please get me some water? My throat’s really dry.”

“Oh... sorry.” She was quick to grab your plastic cup and reach over to the sink, filling it up just before the brim before bringing it over to you.

You took the straw between your chapped lips and sipped rather slowly, feeling the water soothe its way down your throat.

“Why haven’t you turned the light on?” You heard the familiar voice of Wanda Maximoff echo through your room as you saw her silhouette by the doorframe. She reached over to turn on the light and you quickly shut your eyes, bringing your hand up to your eyes to shield them from the newfound brightness. “Go home, MJ. I’ve got it from here.”

The younger nurse took the cup away from your mouth once you let go of the straw. “Alright! Goodnight, Wanda. Wait, it’s morning but... ugh, fuck it!” She laughed softly before stomping out of the room.

You let out another chuckle as you winced, moving your hand away from your face now that your eyes were used to the light. You turned over to look at Wanda, who was holding your chart, probably writing down very detailed notes for Romanoff to see during morning rounds. “I must admit I missed you.” You told her as you gave her a weak smile.

“Oh sweetheart...” She set down your chart for a moment before reaching over your bed, gently wrapping her arms around you, still careful not to mess with the wires and tubes that were still attached to your body. Wanda Maximoff had always been a hugger and a good one at that. Even though you might come off as someone who did not enjoy such physical displays of affection, your touch-deprived self had been very appreciative of her hugs and she knew that. “I was just down the hall to check on your father. He’s doing alright, he’s stable, not in a lot of pain and he hasn’t really shown any signs of rejection. He’s... right on the road to recovery.”

You let out a sigh of relief as she pulled back from the hug. “That’s good.” You told her softly, though a part of you was glad that your risky sacrifice had not gone to waste. “Thanks, Wanda.”

Not even a good night’s sleep, three loads of laundry and an early morning workout at the gym had been enough to distract Bucky’s mind from the woman in the post-op ward. At first, he had felt a ping of guilt at the thought of not being there if you had woken up and asked for him. Even his assumption that you would ask for him when you woke up had made him realize how hopeless he was. But he could not help it. He had fallen in love with you, like from that John Green novel his youngest sister had once been obsessed with, slowly and then all at once.  

He had managed to call Sam, who was on call that night, and pester him to check on you every now and then. But when a concerned yet slightly annoyed Dr. Wilson had threatened to block his number, while still checking on you nevertheless, Bucky had found himself crashing on his king-sized bed and having a little faith in the hospital staff as he had promised Wanda. No one would let any harm come to you, or so he thought, and he would see you when he returned to work after all.

Despite the fact that he hadn’t set an alarm, he found himself waking up before dawn as always. Perhaps it was the fact that his own body had been so used to such early morning wake up calls, but sleeping into the afternoon had always been a rarity for Bucky no matter how late he had fallen asleep.

Nevertheless, the moment he awoke from his slumber, his first instinct had been to check his phone for any messages from the hospital. He had threatened Dr. Peter Parker, the resident on your transplant team, to contact him in case anything had happened to you while he was not by your bedside. Seeing no messages from the young surgeon made him sigh in relief. But that did not stop Bucky from being worried. After all, his sister had just returned from Philadelphia and from what she had texted him last night, she had found some concerning information that she wanted to share with him.

If any of his friends had found out about what he had done, they would probably label his actions a result of his paranoia; Sam would have called it pure insanity. But Bucky would probably prefer the more rational term: suspicion. He had been feeling suspicious for a while now, ever since the day he had found you breaking down in the supply room on the cardiac floor.

“Y/L/N?” Dr. James Barnes’ eyebrows furrowed as he recognized the familiar female’s sobs that escaped from behind a shelf that held unopened packages of cardiac catheters.

Of course, this hadn’t been the first time he had found you like that. But he knew you well enough to know that you did not break down in tears that easily. He was aware that you had dealt with more than a fair share of struggles over the years, but that had made you tough. You were a strong woman, he noted. So, if something had made you cry, then it had to have been something very serious. It wasn’t that easy to break Y/N Y/L/N.

You sat on the cold tiled floor of the supply room, your back against a shelf as you pulled your knees up to your chest. You could not help the sobs that left your chest, your cheeks puffy, red and stained with tears as you looked up. “J-James?” You quickly wiped away your tears with the sleeve of the waffle-knit Henley you wore under your navy blue scrub shirt, springing to your feet before coming face to face with the dark haired surgeon.

“Are you alright, doll?” He asked, his lips curling into a frown as a look of concern blanketed over his features when he stepped over to you. His icy blue eyes were filled with a genuine worry that not even the strands of his greasy black hair could veil. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head quickly before shrugging your shoulders, forcing yourself to smile a fake smile that you hoped would be convincing enough, though you may have been wrong about that. He had already heard you cry and no smile can make him believe otherwise. Besides, Bucky Barnes knew you well enough to know when even a smile of yours is genuine or when it was not. He was always the first to notice these things. “Nothing, I’m just... tired, that’s all. It’s been a long day.”

He furrowed his brows as he looked down at you, clearly not convinced by your facade. His eyes were soft but the tone of his voice rather stern. It was as though he was stuck between the roles of the senior doctor, the close friend and the man who had fallen in love with you, not knowing which role to play at a time like this.  “Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

Bucky had always been able to distinguish himself between his roles though. He had a way of separating his personal and professional lives in order to keep him sane. There was Bucky and then there was Dr. Barnes.

Dr. Barnes would always wear his navy blue scrubs, his hair hanging loose that he usually tucked under his scrub cap when he was at surgery. Bucky, when he’s not in his ‘operating mode’, usually tied his hair up into a small messy man bun. He wore skinny jeans and plaid shirts when he was out and when he was at home, he wore sweat pants and Henley’s. Even his closet had been arranged in a way to accommodate this.

He followed this rule almost religiously though, except for that one time when Dr. Barnes showed up to a board meeting with his hair tied up in a bun with a Hello Kitty hair tie because he let one of his pediatric patients tie it up for him. Dr. Rogers would go on to say that this had been the most human that he had ever seen his surgical robot of a friend; perhaps until the day his beloved mentee had announced that she was donating her liver to her estranged father.

But now the man had found himself a third role, the role of James, Y/N’s James. He did not know what that role entailed, whether he was the colleague or the friend, but he knew that this was the part of him that had fallen in love with her. This was the part of him that was longing to be a part of her life, if she would let him. This was the part of him that was the most human – the better version of him.

You shook your head as you tried to find a way out of his query, only to fail at your own attempts. “No, James... I’m-”

“You’ve been crying.” He had cut you off. “And don’t even try telling me that you weren’t. I heard you, doll.” He had caught you red-handed, after all. There was no way you could hide this from him, or anyone else for that matter.

“I...” You looked down at your feet, noticing that the laces had come undone in your blue tennis shoes. But you could care less about your shoes right now. You had bigger things to worry about, like the life of the man who had given you yours. And at that thought, you broke down once more, feeling your knees grow weak as you slid down against the shelf to sit back down on the floor. You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your head between them, not holding back the sobs in the presence of this doctor.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Bucky frowned at the sight of you, feeling his heart break to see you in tears. He knelt down in front of you, his soft hands holding your wrists as your hands rested on top of your knees. “Hey... talk to me, doll. You can tell me anything.”

You had always been hesitant to talk about how you felt with others, except to Dr. Rhodes who happened to be the in-house psychiatrist for the hospital staff. One thing that you had learned the hard way from your previously failed friendships was that there was a fine line between sharing and over-sharing. You did not want to cross this line, for that line had ended many friendships for you. It was why you had been so cautious of how close you got with everyone at the hospital.

But keeping your distance from James was not an option for you either. He sounded genuinely concerned for you and his offer had only made you realize how desperately you needed a friend at that moment. Perhaps, using this opportunity to find some clarity about your situation would not be that bad. He was a surgeon, after all. He had dealt with dying patients and their crying loved ones. He would not turn away from you or turn you away at a time of need either. A qualified medical professional, he was. You could trust him as that.

You continued to cry as Bucky took a seat next to you on the floor, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. How much of a loner had you been your whole life that even the slightest act of affection had brought you solace? How desperate must you have been for human contact, for you felt calm from the way his hand was rubbing your back in a rather soothing manner. Your touch-starved self could not help but allow yourself to lay your head gently against his shoulder, continuing to cry. “R-Romanoff... has a patient, who came in with... stage 4... cirrhosis.” You croaked out in-between sobs. “She was... telling me how... this patient was from... N-New Hope, Pennsylvania... because she knows that... it’s my hometown and... she was like... it’s a small town, just over two thousand people... and everyone knows... everyone so... Nat asked me if I... maybe knew this man and... she tells me his name... James, i-it’s... it’s my dad... h-he’s...” Before you could even finish your sentence, you felt another sob.

He bit down on his bottom lip as he continued to gently rub your back, trying to calm you down while pondering what you had just told him. “Oh Y/N...” He frowned. You rarely spoke about your parents or your childhood spent in a small town near Philadelphia. But from what he knew about your past, which only Steve had also known, he concluded that things must not have been great for you. Perhaps that was why he was starting to worry about this revelation. “How do you know it’s him, doll?” He asked. “Did you go and see him?”

You shook your head. “N-No... I-I couldn’t... I... checked his file. The information... his date of birth, the home address... it’s the same. It’s the house I grew up in.” You replied as you let out a sigh. “It’s him.”

“But... how did they-”

“I haven’t... spoken to my parents... since I left... NYU.” You hadn’t realized that you had cut him off as you spoke, still sobbing between your words. “I sent my mom... an invite... to my med school graduation... but she didn’t show. I just thought that I would never... see them again... you know? But now they’re here... in this hospital and... I don’t know, James. I feel awful... for not being there for them.” A successful cardiothoracic surgeon at one of the best hospitals in all of New York, but you had no idea that your own father had been ill. You may have had your reasons to leave home when you did but you were doing much better now. Why couldn’t you get yourself to go back home and at least try to make amends with your parents? Perhaps if you had done that sooner, you would have known about your father’s disease a lot sooner and you could have actually gotten him the treatment he needed before things had gotten out of control. “He’s going on the transplant list... I just can’t believe... I missed so much shit in my parents’ life.”

“Y/N, come on, you can’t beat yourself up for that.” Bucky told you as he let out a sigh. “You had a reason to leave home and cut ties with your parents. Besides, if you did reach out to your mother and she didn’t respond, then you losing touch with them is not your fault, doll.”

“But... I was supposed to be better, James.”

He could not say anything when you had said that. He bit down on his bottom lip once more, his hand still wrapped around your shoulder as he held you close to him. Your heads barely touched as he moved his hair away from his face, cautious that a few strands might land on your forehead as he let you lean against him. “How did they... how did they get all the way to Brooklyn from your small town?” He asked, curiously. Bucky was sure that there were many competent hospitals in Philadelphia. Yet the fact that your father had been admitted at the hospital where you worked seemed to be far from a coincidence to him.

He had found out about your history with parental abuse a few years ago, when you had approached him and Steve regarding your suspicion that one of your pediatric patients was being abused. Bucky had been there to support you when you had contacted Child Protective Services and through the whole process that followed. He had helped you and your patient with the formalities before you had come clean to him about your own abuse.

The revelation had caused Bucky to shut down for a few days and he had once again become consumed with guilt for having grown up with so much privilege. Despite the fact that both of his parents worked long hours, they had done their best at being parents. They weren’t perfect, but they had loved all four of their children dearly and made sure they knew how much they were loved. He could not even imagine how any parent could intentionally hurt their child or how anyone could endure such a thing during their childhood and still turn out to be the strongest, kindest, most genuine soul to walk the earth.

No wonder your walls were so hard to tear down. But he could not help but wish that he could eventually do just that. He was falling even further for you. He wanted to shower you with love because that was what you deserved, even though a part of him knew that you might never let him. After all, you still did not think that you deserved to be loved.

“Apparently, he’s seen multiple doctors in Philly before coming here. Natasha said that his previous doctor had read about her study and referred them to her.” You replied with a shrug. “No, they don’t. I had told my mom that I had been matched to do my residency at New York Presbyterian but I did not tell them that I moved to Brooklyn.”

And that was the start of Bucky’s suspicion. He could not help but wonder whether your folks had known about you working here before they showed up. He had no reason to trust them, after all. While they were your parents, it was clear that they hadn’t done the best job at that. While you would not bother to share anything regarding your past, he could not help but continue to be suspicious regarding your parents’ intentions behind them coming to Brooklyn.

Of course, he could not control your actions. He had to sit back and watch as you eventually decided to approach them and offered to get tested to see if you liver would match your father’s. But that still left Bucky with so many unanswered questions, unanswered questions that you could answer for him but he knew that you would not.

He wanted to protect you, in case things did get to that point where you needed to be protected. In order to do that, he needed to know what he would be protecting you from. The only way to do that had been through looking into you and your parents through a private investigator. And that was exactly what he had done when he picked up the phone called his sister last week, asking her to find out your history with your parents in case they intended to hurt you again.

When Rebecca Barnes had first received a phone call from her big brother, she was certainly surprised. Sure, the two of them still had a very close relationship. But it was rare for Bucky to ask her for a favour, let alone a favour that had to do with a certain female colleague of his.

Bucky had not directly told anyone about his feelings for you, even though almost everyone at the hospital seemed to have figured it out. Perhaps he hadn’t been the best at hiding his true intentions with you. But he had told Becca right away that he was in love with you and that was why he needed her help.

The woman was shocked at her brother’s confession to say the least. But she was also happy that he had finally found himself a woman he actually had feelings for. After all, she knew that his love life had been pretty much non-existent since he was in college. He had been quite the Casanova while he was at NYU, but as he grew older, Bucky had grown and been molded into a proper workaholic who barely had time to date. Even when Becca had tried to set him up with her friends, the over-working surgeon had managed to ditch his dates in the name of surgical emergencies. Some of those times were actually legitimate while others were just excuses.

Nevertheless, Becca had gone out of her way to find out whatever Bucky felt that he needed to know. It had only taken her less than a week to map out the woman’s entire life but from what she had found out about this Y/N Y/L/N, she could not help but feel truly sorry. “You might want to sit down for this, Buck.” She told her brother as she set down her briefcase on the coffee table, opening it to retrieve several foolscap files. “It’s going to be a wild ride from start to finish.”

Bucky let out a sigh as he sat down on his couch, fresh out of his post-work out shower and in the midst of towel-drying his mane. “How bad is it, Becca?” He asked her as he bit down on his bottom lip rather nervously. He feared what he was about to find out but he did not regret that he had taken this step.

“I had to work backwards, since I started my investigation by meeting with the Chief of Surgery at New York Presbyterian Hospital and then the Dean at NYU Med. Although I ended my investigation in New Hope, I think we should start there... at the very beginning.” She suggested, completely ignoring his question. Becca could care less about how nervous she was making him feel. After all, it was his idea to have her conduct an investigation that could potentially be illegal. It was certainly a violation of your privacy if anything. “Y/N Y/L/N was born in New Hope, Pennsylvania... it’s a really small town, like the ones you would see on a TV show where everyone just knows everyone. I was able to get a copy of the hospital records that show her mother being admitted while she was in labor. Sorry, I couldn’t get a copy of her birth certificate. That’s... kind of illegal.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” He huffed as he rolled his eyes. “Why would you even bother with that in the first place? I asked you to look into her parents.”

“You told me to be thorough with my investigation, Buck.” She scoffed as she set the hospital records in front of him. “Anyways, I also have school records and what not. But you might feel like those are irrelevant so...” She picked up another folder. “Her father owned a restaurant around the time she was born. It was apparently going really well for a few years, thanks to the town’s booming tourism industry. But the townspeople say that Mr. Y/L/N had an altercation with his chef and ended up firing him. Everything went downhill after that. He eventually went on to file bankruptcy... I got the court documents right here.”

Bucky picked up the documents and skimmed through them, only to notice that you would have been around seven years old when your father had filed for bankruptcy. “Shit...” He let out a sigh as he looked up at Becca. “That wasn’t even the worst part, was it?”

Rebecca shook her head as she let out a sigh. “The family lost pretty much everything after that. Her mom had managed to find herself a job as a maid in a motel but her dad was unemployed. I think the stress of losing his business really took a toll on him. The people I spoke to... they said that’s when he started drinking excessively.” She paused for a moment, allowing Bucky to connect the dots between the past and the present. “I even spoke to the guy who owns the local bar. Apparently, the man showed up every day before noon and left late at night.”

“And they just kept serving him alcohol for hours on end?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. A part of him was pissed at how one thing had led to another and now you were the one paying the price for it.

“Small towns businesses only give a shit about making profit, Bucky.” She told him with a shrug. “But one thing was clear. No one really likes the Y/L/N’s. They’re pretty much known to be rude and... blamed the entire town for how they lost their business.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” He admitted, shrugging. “They couldn’t care any less about their own daughter, for crying out loud.”

“Well, it wasn’t until their sixteen year old daughter went missing for an entire night did the town realize just how fucked up they were.”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide when his sister had said that. “What?!”

Becca bit down on her bottom lip as she pulled out another file, this one being quite thicker than the last ones. “I have a copy of the police report that was filed the next morning. It says that the Y/L/N’s sixteen year old daughter had gone missing. Mom said that she came home from school and hopped in the shower. The water was running for a few hours before she realized that her daughter wasn’t in there... and her bedroom window was open. She had jumped out the window in the middle of a snowstorm.”

“In the middle of a snowstorm?!” He exclaimed, his eyes growing wide at the realization of what that meant. He remembered the words you had said to him that that night when the two of you were leaving the shelter. I know how it feels to be out here in the cold… no food, no warm clothes, nowhere to go. The uncertainty of whether you would get through the night and into the next morning, it’s… the worst feeling in the world and… I just wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Bucky leaned back in his seat as he rubbed his eyes, not knowing how to process what he had just heard. If he had trouble even doing that, he wondered how you had managed to live through it all. A part of him felt a newfound sense of respect for you, while another part of him suffered vicariously as he heard what had happened to you. “She ran away from them.”

She gave him a nod. “She tried to run away from home but it was a rather spontaneous attempt. She didn’t have any proper clothes or money, no escape plan whatsoever. She had sneaked into her school to keep herself warm and her science teacher... who happened to be there to set up for the school dance the next day had found her crying in the girls’ bathroom. Y/N spent the night at the teacher’s house before Child Protective Services had been called... and she was taken out of her home.”

Bucky was silent, not knowing what to say. All he could remember was that night when he had seen you at the shelter and then the day you had told him about being abused by your parents. He hadn’t realized the extent of it all until now. He felt sick to his stomach just at the thought of how vile it all seemed. And the fact that you had come forward to donate a piece of your liver to the man who had ruined his own life as much as he did yours, he could not help but shed a few tears. “Fuck... she never told me... or any of us... about any of this.” He said as he sighed, still leaning back in his seat as he cried. “She may have mentioned bits and pieces of her past over the years but...”

“Because this is not something you tell everyone you meet, Buck.”

“You know, I’ve always wondered why she was so... closed off. When she first came to the hospital, she was this really determined... feisty... kick ass surgeon. All she ever cared about was work. She would study her ass off and when Steve or Nat would invite her over for drinks, she would turn them down. For someone who’s been through so much shit, Y/N was extremely focused with everything she did... excelled in surgery, had really good judgement... knew when to ask for help. Who would have known how much pain was behind all of that? Even I didn’t know how bad it had been for her.”

“You are right about that.” Becca sighed as she reached over to put her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Y/N was a very... focused and determined sixteen year old who had clear judgement, knew that she was being abused and knew when to remove herself from that. She knew when to seek help. After she was taken out of her home, she  spent the next two years in the system. She didn’t move around a lot though. She was apparently very well behaved. She lived with a foster family in Philly until she was eighteen. She was not... looking for trouble, per say. Her foster mom said that she was a really good kid... traumatized but also... determined. She never skipped school, never missed her weekly therapy sessions, never went out with friends, always home and doing homework, stayed on top of her chores. She was a straight A student, it was even a surprise to her teachers... how much she was thriving once she left her parents. And then she was accepted to NYU for pre-med.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a small smile at the thought of how much you had thrived after leaving your hometown.

“She was in the system so she was eligible for funding but she also got a lot of scholarships because she had really good grades. She still worked three jobs while in school... an on campus job as an office assistant, a retail job... and a waitress at a diner in Lower Manhattan. She was on top of her class at NYU, valedictorian. She aced her MCATs, got into NYU Med and... she kept thriving. The Dean himself had written her a reference when she matched with the residency program at New York Presbyterian. The Chief of Surgery calls her a machine... always getting the job done, taking no shit from any of her competition. She was Chief Resident, top of her class again... chose heart surgery as her specialty. The Chief had been the one who recommended her to Steve. She just... she was an unstoppable force.” His sister told him. “She’s... a really amazing person, Buck.”

“I know.” He agreed. “She really... turned her life around after leaving her parents.”

“Speaking of her parents, I found something about them that you might find very... suspicious.” She told him as she handed him another file. “Her mom lost her job at the hotel a few months ago and they don’t have insurance. Seeing multiple doctors in Philly, being treated for liver disease... you know the numbers, Buck. They still have outstanding medical bills in Philly. I don’t think they could afford Brooklyn Hospital or a high profile surgeon like Natasha Romanoff. I don’t think Nat’s all about doing pro-bono either. I wonder how they’re going to pay for all of this because... I’m pretty sure a liver transplant is expensive as fuck.”

Bucky’ eyes grew wide as he looked down at the stack of outstanding hospital bills that Becca had just handed him. “Holy shit... they totally knew what they were doing, didn’t they? I fucking knew it wasn’t a coincidence! I fucking knew it!” While a part him was relieved that his suspicions had been right, he was still horrified by what he and his sister had just figured out. “They tracked her down...”

Wanda Maximoff had always been quite observant. She had a knack for noticing the smallest things, whether it was a slight change in her patients that needed to be noted down on their charts or the slight change of attitude in her friend Bucky’s attitude towards you that could only mean only one thing. But she had always noticed things.

Perhaps it was the way a sleep deprived Dr. Wilson had tried to flirt with Sharon Carter at the nurse’s desk that had distracted her. But Wanda had found herself in the midst of laughter when your mother had exited your father’s hospital room and made her way towards yours. She had been distracted from keeping a close eye on your room that she had failed to notice your mother enter your room, while you were alone and in pain. But most importantly, you had been wide awake.

Thankfully, Wanda had noticed your mother leaving your room swiftly and she had sprung to her feet. “Sam.” She had quickly alerted the doctor, who had also noticed your mother. Neither of them had any idea how long she had been in your room, not that it mattered really. But the moment she heard you shriek in pain and call out to her, Wanda knew that something was wrong.

Sam had sprinted down the hallway to your room as he heard you cry. “Y/N!”

“Sam...” You yelped in pain, in the midst of the never-ending tears, as you looked down at your side to see the crimson shade of your blood spreading across the hospital gown. “I jerked... and the steri strips... came off... the wound opened up, I can’t...” The pain medications had worn off completely, making you feel every bit of pain that you could have felt. “Fuck!”

This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; the words expressly are 'a pound of flesh.

[vaguekiwi]

72 Hours

idk. Last weekend was hard, I process through writing. Here we are 😅😅

72 Hours

Summary: Tony is hospitalised, Peter has to sit in the waiting room.

Word Count: ~1000

Other Inspiration: Below My Feet by Mumford and Sons | What If This Is All The Love You Ever Get? by Snow Patrol

Warnings: Major grief and angst, mention of hospitals/critical medical condition, hurt with a tiny bit of comfort, ambiguous ending

Peter’s heart had been broken before.

Whether it was the disappointing shudder from what-could-have-been with Liz, or the reeling betrayal from Quentin Beck, or even the mind-numbing world-shattering grief from the passing of his parents and Uncle Ben, he was always left with the same feeling afterward.

The feeling that there was a blunt cleaver in the middle of his chest. A knife that just sat there, festering and heavy. Occasionally someone would grab it, promising to pull it out, only to push it around more with an unpracticed hand.

The cold of the blade seeped into his diaphragm and made it so he couldn’t warm up. The hole it left behind always felt like it swallowed him from the stomach up, left his nerves frayed at his fingertips and toes.

This was the feeling Peter had been left with the past few days, made worse because he was not just enduring the pain of heartbreak but also the uncertainty of not knowing if it would stick around.

The cleaver went in the moment he picked up the phone and the voice on the other end said, “Peter Parker? This is Metropolitan Hospital, we have you registered as the emergency contact for Anthony Stark.”

That had been nearly three days ago.

Peter sat perched on the edge of a chair in the corner of the hospital waiting room. He couldn’t sleep; if his body and mind were charged with enough adrenaline, the spider bite didn’t let him sleep. The nurses kept coming by, telling him to go home, promising they would call him as soon as Tony woke up.

If Mr. Stark wakes up, was how they put it. The if kept pinging around Peter’s head, floating behind his eyelids when he blinked. He knew they’d said it on purpose, to avoid a lawsuit at the very least, but he wished they had just lied. Had just given him the false impression that Tony would be absolutely fine.

He’d only brought his phone with him, he hadn’t known how long he would be here. Ned brought his charger 12 hours later, and then Peter subsisted his time either curled up on the straight-backed waiting room chair or seated against the wall, tethered to his phone cord. He wasn’t sure why he felt so adamant he wanted to have his phone, the doctors who had new information were right in front of him. But it helped, made it feel like he wouldn’t miss anything.

It also gave him something to do, instead of just watching the swinging doors leading to surgery.

For a while, he did what work he could on his phone. Brainstormed ideas for a biochem paper, answered emails to colleagues and peers about a group project. He kept trying to play a game or scroll on Instagram or something, but he couldn’t get his mind to focus. He passed the headline Tech Billionaire Hospitalised one too many times and finally decided to inform the rest of the world he’d be offline for awhile.

Hiatus to handle real life 😢 he posted to Twitter. He updated his Discord bio and made his Snapchat and Instagram stories a black screen with the words 😫 busy, gonna be offline! 😫

He didn’t actually think it was necessary. The people that mattered to him knew what was going on, but he did it because it gave him something to do.

It filled up twenty minutes.

Then he went back to Subway Surfers, but his fingers were trembling too much so he stopped after five minutes.

The cleaver hadn’t moved in his heart. But, fortunately, no one had tried to touch it either. Things always got messy when other people tried to fix him, tried to dress a fresh wound when they didn’t actually know what to do except offer chocolate or hugs or ambiguous advice like it’ll get better.

“Peter.”

Peter had been staring at the same spot on the wall so long his vision had blurred. He blinked dry eyes and turned, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head.

“Hey Ned,”

Pepper Potts and Colonel Rhodes stood further away, they each nodded to him and waved a little bit. Pepper approached one of the nurses.

Peter’s focus shifted when Ned settled in the chair beside him, clapping him on the back.

“Have you eaten anything, man?”

Peter shook his head. He drew his knees closer to his chin and his gaze shifted back to the doors.

“There’s a Chipotle just down the street,” Ned said, but Peter wouldn’t look at him. When Peter didn’t say anything for a while, Ned hummed and offered, “I brought my Switch. We could Smash to pass the time?”

Silence.

“Or Mario Kart?”

Silence.

“Splatoon?”

This was the hard part. This was the painful wrenching around of the cleaver by someone who meant well and deserved all the love and appreciation in the world. But Peter didn’t want to play video games or eat. He just wanted to wrap his arms around Tony’s neck, wanted to feel the strength in his grip and warmth in his gaze. He wanted to go back to Friday and tell himself to relish the movie and cold pizza and cuddling because he didn’t know it but that might be their last date night.

Something damp nudged his leg and it made Peter jerk a bit. But he smiled when he saw the plastic water bottle. He tried to say “thanks” but only managed to croak out something completely unintelligible. Ned nodded his understanding, and that was the right move.

That made the knife pull out just a bit.

Peter sipped the water, the cold sparking in his system and immediately making his throat clamour for more. 

But the bottle stilled halfway to his lips when a familiar surgeon, Tony’s surgeon, pushed through the doors into the waiting room.

The doctor looked around, caught sight of Peter, and hurried toward him.

Peter felt a coldness in his chest now, a new weight as this woman prepared to either twist the blade or pull it clear.

She cleared her throat.

“Mr. Parker?”

[readysetstarker]

I have this idea of a prompt for a highschool au where jock tony stark is dating sweet and kind nerd peter parker. tony and his team won, so peter to awarded tony by having hardcore sex in the locker room and peter wearing a cheerleader outfit

Warnings: Tony is freshly-turned 18, Peter is 17. Cross-dressing, semi-public sex, dirty talk, some feminization. Also, you might as well imagine Peter Parker with @peachbabypie’s eyelashes in this bc have you seen how they draw him? Have you? Unf.

—

Nothing could have prepared Tony for this. He couldn’t seem to close his mouth where it hung wide open as he watched Peter pull the baggy hoodie off his body and toss it to the side where his acid-washed jeans lied, a crumpled heap of denim. Words escaped him, and he couldn’t help but flap his gums like an idiot as his boyfriend moved to stand between his spread thighs and maneuver Tony’s hands to his thin exposed hips.

A cheer leading uniform. A motherfucking cheer leading uniform hugged his lean body, pectorals framed by the thick material of the long-sleeved green, white, and gold crop top. The skirt barely even covered his creamy white thighs, although a rather delicious looking mole poked out from beneath the hem. It was high-waisted and snug against the smooth curve of his ass.

Fuck. Holy fuck.

Above him, Peter giggled and ran a hand through his boyfriend’s sweaty, helmet-tangled hair. Fresh from a post-game debrief on their nationals practice schedule, he hadn’t had enough time to shower or change out of his uniform, although those garish shoulder pads were stored with the rest of their team equipment.

“Do you like it?” he asked, although the way he chewed his glossy lip told Tony that he already knew the answer to his own question. 

“Holy shit,” Tony breathed, and he settled his thumbs against Peter’s hip bones, thumbing the soft skin. “Where… How did you get this?”

“MJ helped. And I might owe Betty about six weeks of calculus homework for letting me borrow this.”

Tony swallowed with a throat that was suddenly very dry. 

“Baby,” Tony said, eyes wide and drinking in the sight before him. His eyes drifted down to Peter’s shoes, which were their usual worn black sneakers, but this time he was wearing frilly socks with green and gold embroidered along the edges. He groaned and leaned his forehead against Peter’s stomach. “Baby, you can’t just do this to me.”

He felt more than heard Peter’s laugh. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to reward you for taking the team all the way to nationals this year. You’ve been working so hard, Tony. I thought you deserved something for all your hard work.”

“A ‘reward,’ huh? What would this have been if we lost?”

“Cheering up.”

Tony snorted. “Either way, I was going to get you in a cheerleader skirt?”

Peter hummed an affirmative answer, his voice tempering off into an unsteady moan as Tony’s hands slipped around the curve of his hip to cup his ass. Peter moaned, and Tony lifted his head to kiss his bare midriff. The muscles underneath his skin twitched against Tony’s tongue when he parted his lips and planted an open-mouthed kiss just above his navel.

“Shit, Peter, why here?” he suddenly moaned. Peter’s fingers caressed his cheeks down to his jaw so he could bring Tony’s eyes up to him. “There’s no fuckin’ lube, and the team could come in at any minute. Got me so hard in the locker room of all damn places…”

Tony wanted to shove Peter down and fuck the smirk right off his face. His pink tongue poked out from between his teeth when he giggled at Tony’s predicament. 

“Oh, come on,” Peter teased, thumb tracing the plush curve of Tony’s bottom lip. Tony nipped at the pad with his front teeth. “Like you never thought of doing it here. Bending me over one of the benches, ass in the air in the shower room, fucking my face into one of the lockers. The danger of someone seeing us is what turns you on.”

Peter tapped his fingers against Tony’s mouth with each lewd suggestion. Tony took two of them into his mouth, pinching a knuckle between his teeth, eyes never leaving Peter’s. The younger of them gasped when he felt Tony’s teeth on his skin.

“Believe me, baby, I have.” Peter’s finger fell from Tony’s mouth at his admission. As if missing the contact, Tony’s fingers dug into the meat of his ass. “But I don’t have any lube on me, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Good thing I came prepared, then.“ 

Tony reluctantly allowed Peter to pull himself away from him and walk to where he had discarded his clothes. His hips almost seemed to sway from side to side when he bent down to retrieve whatever had been tucked away in his jeans pocket. Tony swore he was doing it on purpose, angling his ass so that it was all Tony could focus on.

Peter held up a small black bottle in his fingers when he stood up. 

That was all the motivation Tony needed to get back on his feet, dig his fingers into Peter’s arms, and shove him into the lockers up against the wall behind him. He crowded Peter’s space, and Peter looked absolutely enthralled by it.

Their lips crashed together messily. Peter moaned against Tony’s mouth as he reached down to grip the back of Peter’s thigh, and then giggled into his kiss when Tony hoisted him up into the air. Peter’s ankles interlocked at the small of Tony’s back, his head hitting the metal door of a locker with a dull thud, and Tony’s tongue lapping at his mouth. Tony’s rutting hips rubbing against his drew a whine from his chest.

His hair was soft in Tony’s fingers, curling them into the thick locks and drawing his head back. His neck bared, teeth and suctioned lips left purple circles in the pale skin. Tony knew they would darken overnight, and he couldn’t help the sharp thrust that followed the thought. Peter choked on a moan. His hand clamped over his mouth to smother another one when Tony ground against him.

“You were just gagging for this, weren’t you, baby?” Tony asked as he wrenched the lube bottle from Peter’s clenched hand. Thank God for his gymnastics classes, or Tony’s sure that Peter would have dropped to the floor when he released his hold on him to open the cap.

“I was hoping you would lose,” Peter admitted into his ear, legs tightening around Tony’s waist. “You fuck me so good when you’re upset.”

Tony laughed into his boyfriend’s neck and tried not to drop him. “Maybe next time Stephen kicks my ass at beer pong during one of his ragers, I’ll fuck you on his parents’ bed, huh?”

Peter mewled and moved his hips against Tony’s erection. His own strained against the skirt riding up over his ass and thighs, electricity running the paths of his nerves all the way down to his toes. Tony’s hair was still damp with sweat when he ran his fingers through it and felt his boyfriend’s appreciative moan vibrate against his chest.

The skirt was pulled up over his hips, exposing the hunter green bloomers and bulging arousal beneath. Peter pulled Tony into a hungry kiss. “Hurry up, meathead,” he moaned. 

Tony shifted him to get a better angle with his lube-slick fingers, and Peter reached between them to pull his bloomers off to the side. His head fell back, eyes clenched shut, at the first intrusion. Tony sucked a dark hickey into his neck, just beneath the angle of Peter’s jaw, and kissed it. Prominent and possessive, just the way he liked them.

Peter’s cock was barely visible from where he had shifted the bloomers to allow Tony’s fingers through. The spot in front was visibly wet from pre-cum, and Tony really wished he was on his knees instead.

“Shit, baby, you’re so wet,” he growled into Peter’s ear with a hard thrust of his fingers. Peter choked. “Betty’s going to be so mad your little clit soaked her uniform. Does she even know what you had planned? You tell her you wanted me to fuck you in her uniform?”

Peter buried his face in Tony’s neck at the magnificent stretch of three fingers inside of him. His grip on Tony’s uniform shirt was so tight that he was sure he would wrinkle the fabric.

Tony didn’t get an answer, just a desperate whimper as he removed his fingers from Peter’s hole. Peter tightened his hold around Tony’s neck to hold himself up with one arm and use his other to reach down between them and pull Tony’s fly open. The first brush of Peter’s fingers on his bare cock had Tony grinding up into it, heat and arousal flaring in his gut.

He got himself slicked up and smothered Peter’s moan with his mouth as he lined himself up and lowered Peter onto his cock. Tony murmured praise onto his lips as he pushed each inch of himself inside slowly, completely, filling the tight hole constricting around him. The back of Peter’s head hit the locker door behind him when Tony bottomed out, and a moan ripped through his chest that had both of them listening for any footsteps wandering close by.

When they heard nothing, Tony shifted his hold on Peter so he could hold the boy’s cheeks apart and start thrusting. The first was hard and deep and had Peter reaching behind him to grab at the top of the locker row. With each pull back, Peter lifted himself as best he could and dropped down onto Tony’s cock when he thrust. The angle pulled his cheer top up enough to expose his pretty pink nipples.

Tony’s breath was warm against Peter’s lips when he pressed in to kiss him.

“Damn, almost wish someone would walk in on this, watching me fuck you senseless,” he moaned and sunk his teeth into Peter’s bottom lip. His pace sped up, skin slapping against the meat of Peter’s ass, and Peter’s nails bit into his shoulder. He cried out when the head of Tony’s dick hit that sweet spot buried inside him. 

Peter moaned his name. He tried to keep up with Tony’s relentless pace. His toes curled inside his sneakers and heels dug into the small of Tony’s back. Pre-cum dribbled out of the head of his cock and soaked into the skirt. It was going to stain but Peter couldn’t care less.

Tony adjusted his grip again, Peter’s breath catching as the cock inside of him dragged deliciously against his inner walls, and reached between them to fist Peter’s aching dick. It was dark red in his hands, and Peter’s thighs shook when he twisted his wrist on the upstroke. His mouth fell open on a moan. Tony drank it down with a kiss.

“God, Tony,” Peter whined in his ear, voice so high he didn’t recognize it. “I’m gonna come. Too good, I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah? Gonna cream yourself, baby?” Tony growled in his ear, and Peter’s moan was downright sinful as he rolled his hips into Tony’s fist. “Let me see you come all over yourself, all over this slutty little skirt you got on.”

Tony’s fist worked hard on Peter’s shaft. Peter’s head fell back again, a silent scream on his parted lips when he came. His release shot onto the skirt hiked up his thighs and dribbled over Tony’s fingers. He struggled to make any other sound when the pleasure ebbed away to a stinging pain. It was too much, it hurt, but god, he didn’t want Tony to stop.

The pained, overwhelmed sobs that left Peter’s chest encouraged Tony; he pulled his hand off of Peter’s cock to grip as his ass and begin pounding away at him, chasing his own pleasure. It built and built, a tightening spring low between his thighs, before it burst. Tony swore he saw stars when he came, and he could hear Peter keening in his ear.

Tony ground his hips into Peter’s while the pleasure washed over him. Peter was nearly bent in half, body sensitive, thighs shaking in Tony’s hands. He kissed Tony’s temple and ran his fingers through Tony’s thick hair until, finally, he pulled away and grinned at Peter.

“Holy shit,” he said with a laugh.

“Congrats on nationals,” Peter replied, and Tony smothered his answering laugh by sinking his teeth into Peter’s neck.

[t-hollands-bitch]

I’ve got you baby

Backstory: Peter is 18. This is post Endgame and post Far From Home (bear with me), but with a different Endgame-ending. Tony doesn’t die bc they managed to get the stones back to the specific time they took them from and they defeated Thanos’ army. But after the trip to Europe, and with Mysterio’s tricks and holograms that showed Tony’s death to Peter, Peter started to experience PTSD and panic attacks.

Warnings: Ptsd, anxiety attacks, trauma, mentions of sex, yes there is fluff as well, indications of sex but nothing explicit

Pairing: Tony Stark x Peter Parker (Starker)

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: So this was originally a request from anon, but my clumpsy ass accidently deleted it. But anon asked for a fluffy starker one shot during the winter. And I know this was supposed to be super fluffy, but hey, I suddenly had this little idea that I couldn’t resist.

-------- 

Tony was usually late by a minimum of an hour or two. But when it came to Peter, he was always on time. Peter really brought out the best in him, he did, and that’s probably why Tony held him so dear. Peter had said that today’s exam would end around 2 p.m. so Tony had bought some snacks for Peter on his way to pick him up from school. 

After finding a good parking place in the parking lot, Tony made his way to the building of the school. He didn’t need to worry about people seeing him there with Peter because of the so called “Stark-internship” that had become a “part-time job”, besides, Peter was now 18. He found himself wandering around the hallways, that were still empty and quiet due to everyone still doing the exam. He was lost in thoughts when he heard low muffled cries and sniffs from the staircase around the corner.

Tony’s curiosity led him to the voice and his heart nearly stopped for a second when he saw the scene in front of him. No, no, no. His babyboy was curled up, knees tucked to his chest and rocking back and forth. 

“Peter… wha- what’s wrong?!” Panic was noticeable in his tone and he was having a hard time trying to swallow the lump in his throat. His expression showed how worried he was. 

Peter was breathing fast and barely inhaling or exhaling. Eyes bloodshot staring in front of him into nothingness, zoned out. By the way his fingernails were digging into his palms, Tony was sure there would be marks left. Peter’s movements were becoming more frantic and he was now hitting his head against the wall behind him.

“Peter! Peter stop, you’re going to hurt yourself!” Tony nearly shouted to bring the boy back to earth while grabbing Peter’s arms to rub and slightly shake them.

“Tony... ” Peter’s eyes widened as if he just realized that Tony was there on his knees next to him. The boy had wet cheeks and puffy eyes because of the tears that were streaming down his face. 

“Pete, baby what’s wrong?” With these words Peter threw himself in Tony’s arms. Peter was hugging him so tightly like he was holding onto dear life and he started to sob again. All Tony could do was to hold him and calm him down as best as he could. 

“I thought I lost you… I saw you-” Tony pulled back a little and cut him off by planting a soft kiss on the curly haired boy’s lips. “Baby I’m right here with you. I am here. Okay? Now breathe Pete, breathe!” The older man finally understood why Peter was panicking. After the disastrous school trip that Peter had in Europe, Quentin Beck had left emotional and mental scars on Peter with his sick tricks and illusions. He had pulled a stunt that made Peter see Tony die in the final battle against Thanos. Those pictures were printed in Peter’s mind, just as Beck wanted them to be, and they were hunting him. 

Peter relaxed into the kiss, and holding his breath during the kiss helped him to properly inhale when they broke it. 

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you baby. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Tony whispered in the boy’s ear and planted small kisses on his face. “Now come on, let’s go, I have things planned for us” Tony knew that Peter didn’t want to talk about it every time he had these so called episodes, because in Peter’s words it would “make it real if it is spoken out loud” which really sounded kinda ridiculous in Tony’s ears but he didn’t want to argue with the boy. 

All the crying made Peter hungry and on their way home he devoured the bag of Doritos in a matter of minutes. 

“Do you want to stay in tonight and call and get some pizza or sushi, or do you want to go out and eat something? If you choose the second one, we could go and do some Christmas shopping.” Tony said winking at Peter when they were getting inside their shared home in upstate New York. Peter’s eyes lit up by the mention of Christmas and he nodded while jumping into Tony’s arms and kissing his cheek. 

“Go take a nap and we will head out in a few hours.” Tony kissed Peter and was so lost in the kiss that he wanted to blow off their plan and just stay in and kiss Peter for the rest of the night and just feel their bodies pressed together. But, Peter was so excited to go shopping so his plans for tasting Peter on his lips all night was pushed back in his head. 

--------

“Pete, sweetheart don’t you think 13 scented candles are enough?” Peter shook his head looking at Tony like he just asked the most stupid question ever. “They all have different scents so just deal with it” The sassy tone in Peter’s voice sounded so cute in Tony’s ears that he couldn’t resist the boy’s wishes and smiled while rolling his eyes.

He maybe spoiled Peter a little too much sometimes, but it was so worth it at the end of the day when he saw the boy’s face light up. Even when Tony just came home with new notebooks or a simple thing as a cute pencil case, Peter always got so happy as if Tony had given him the world. The boy appreciated the smallest things in life and Tony admired that.

When Peter was still caught up in the candle store, Tony spotted a shop where they made costume stockings. And Tony being Tony went there and bought himself and his curly haired boy their own stockings just for the fun of it. 

--------

They had soon gotten home after it had started to snow like crazy when they were ice-skating. Peter was quick to get the hang of it even though he hadn’t ice-skated before. Okay yeah he fell quite a lot in the beginning, but it didn’t bother the boy cause he always got back up and tried again. Just like he always did in life.

Peter had bought so many ornaments, strings of light and candles that he hadn’t seen the little plastic bag inside the bigger one where the stockings were. The boy’s eyes widened when he finally saw them. “Oh my gosh, Tony! Whe- oh my god, baby, thank you!” The smile on Peter’s face warmed Tony’s heart so much that he felt like he was falling all over again for him. 

When Peter flipped the stocking, he saw the little blue and red spider sewn there and his eyes got filled with tears of joy. Such a simple thing, yet it meant the world to him.

“Why are you so good to me?” Peter’s voice was shaky as he turned his head to look at Tony with teary eyes. 

“Because I love you darling and you deserve the world” it sounded cheesy, but it was true. Tony grabbed Peter’s face and kissed him with so much passion, hoping that Peter could read the emotions through the dance of their lips. The kiss gradually intensified with Tony’s hands making their way down Peter’s body and resting on his hips as a silent plea for permission. 

“Let me take care of you baby, let me make you feel good.” Tony knew that his brown eyed lover wanted it by the way Peter’s hands tugged on the collar of Tony’s shirt, but the older man wanted him to confirm it.

“Mhmm, please..” A whisper. But that was enough for Tony to start taking off Peter’s clothes and moving down Peter’s body to show the love he had for him. Tony brought his previous plans for the night back online in his mind and lost himself in the moment he shared with the boy he loved above all else.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Peter Parker x Reader - I’ve Got You

potential warning: depression

As if to mirror your mood, the skies opened up and let their tears out in rough gusts of emotion, pounding against your window. However, it brought a small smile to your face. It was comforting to know you weren’t the only gloomy one today. Things had seemed out of control lately, with school and work you felt like you never had time for you. But you also found the time you did have curled up underneath your covers, dodging family and friends, just trying to breathe. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk to any of them, you loved and cherished the people in your life but nothing sounded more exhausting at the moment than being around them. You’d much rather just be in your room for a day, taking care of yourself. At least that’s how you justified it. However your self care day had been corrupted by the impending drop of your mood. The good never seemed to last. It had been a month since you’d hung out with any of your friends, two weeks since you’d texted Peter some bullshit excuse for why you couldn’t make movie night, or go to the mall, or get McDonald’s, and three days since you’d gotten out of bed to shower.

You knew your mom was out working all day and that was when you slipped downstairs for a slice of toast or a drink of water. Some days you grabbed a soda and even heated up some soup. Other days, admittedly, even opening the door to your bedroom seemed a nuisance and so the only distance you crossed was to the bathroom and back. Tendrils of melancholy were wrapped around your ankles, curling around your shoulders, keeping you in place. 

Peter had been worried about you. He felt like he was going mad checking his phone every seven seconds to see if you had texted him back yet, to any of his texts. He sent one every morning in the hopes you’d answer with more than a “I can’t today, sorry Pete,” or “I’m good, just busy!”.

It stung a little that you felt you couldn’t talk to him, tell him you were having a hard time. He had known you long enough to recognize that you were in a slump, at least that’s what you liked to call it. Mental health was taboo in your home, your mother owning the belief that it was a social phenomena and you could handle feeling a little blue. You in turn felt you weren’t allow to feel what you did. 

You had tried explaining it to him once. Sometimes it was sadness, but other times you felt angry and you couldn’t think a single nice thought about those around you, one word from anyone and you were liable to snap. Then you felt guilt, deep and unending, it paired with your feelings of hopelessness and you cut yourself off from the world for a bit, unplugged. And then you shifted into a muddled pit of nothing. You had said that numb had been a good word but hollow was more accurate. 

Peter wished he could reach out and pull you out of that oppressive fog that enveloped you. You pulled yourself out of it, sometimes sooner rather than later but he worried a lot when months passed and you were still stewing. Your mom was completely anti-medication. It had it’s ups and downs of course, he wouldn’t claim to know what was best for you but you needed something dammit, it wasn’t your fault that your brain didn’t work like your mom’s. 

He let himself get easily worked up but tried to stay level headed, otherwise he’d shoot you a thousand and one text messages he knew you would read and vaguely reply to and then shut down again. He was a hero for god’s sake, he saved people all the time but you didn’t need saving, you just needed help and he wasn’t equipped with what you needed. 

So he did what any other hopeless friend would do. He grabbed his wallet, headed to the grocery store and picked out anything he thought you might even remotely like. You’d told him time and time again that you didn’t need that stuff, it didn’t’ help. But maybe if you had a new sweater to wear when you sat in your chilly room it would feel like you were getting a hug, maybe if you had a new water bottle you’d fill it up and put it on your bedside table so you remembered to drink something. Maybe if you had some brownies you’d remember that time you and Peter had tried making some in his apartment and Aunt May had come home to smoke and you two panicking and it would make you smile or even laugh.

It was three in the afternoon when Peter arrived at your door. The rain was still punishing the world for it’s sorrow. You certainly hadn’t been expecting anyone. Your mom usually didn’t come home until nearly eight most nights. Maybe she had ordered something and it was the post man. Sighing, you tossed your comforter off of you. Your mom would flay you if you left a package outside, especially if it was raining out. It was a talking to you didn’t want to be present for so you built up the energy to wrap your blanket over your shoulders and walk downstairs.

After padding across the chilled hardwood you opened the door to find no cardboard box shoved against the outer wall. Instead your friend was there with rain drop curled hair and damp clothes with two grocery bags in his hands. “Peter-” you started.

“Wait, wait, I know you don’t really want company now so can I please just drop some things off and then I’ll be gone? I just haven’t seen you except for you avoiding me in the halls at school... I get it, I do, you’re not really avoiding me. Sort of. Just, can I come in?” He rambled, afraid if he didn’t get out what he had to say in a short amount of time you’d slam the door in his face. 

You nodded and stepped to the side, opening the door wider for him. He was quite proud of his haul. A fuzzy blanket with smiling pumpkins and smirking witches, because Halloween was coming up and it was your favorite. A bag of milky ways, the dark chocolate kind because he knew you didn’t like milk chocolate. Some brownies, a pink water bottle that had flowers adorning it, a pair of fuzzy socks because you were always cold, and he’d even slipped in a big t-shirt of his an an old hoodie because whenever you visited you wanted to wear them.

“I don’t need all this stuff Peter, but thank you, really,” You spoke earnestly, dropping your head in shame as you ran your hands along the soft material of your new blanket. You were worrying your poor friend and he’d had to go out and waste his money on you and you hadn’t done anything for him, you were just a burden. 

“Hey, c’mon Y/N, I know that look, come here,” Peter said gently, opening his arms wide. You shuffled forward and wrapped your arms around his middle as he encased you in his warmth, holding you just tight enough that you felt safe but not tight enough to be suffocating. “I wanted to do this for you, okay? You didn’t make me, and I was happy to do it. Please just let yourself enjoy them, I promise it was no hassle at all,” 

You nodded and burrowed further into his hug, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. You shut your eyes tight, the damn breaking, flooding you with emotions. 

“Peter?” You croaked, “Can you please stay?”

He smiled and kissed the top of your head, his arms tightening and then letting go. He picked the bags off the floor in one hand and took your other hand in his. “Any time, I’m always here for you,” 

You smiled a little and squeezed his hand, leading him to your room where you crawled back into bed, setting up the pillows while Peter grabbed your laptop, picking some dorky 80s movie he knew you’d love. He disappeared just for a moment and came back with your hair brush. 

As the movie played you sat between his legs as he carefully slipped the hair tie out of your definitely greasy and snarled hair. He was patient and he didn’t stop until your hair was smoothed out. You were embarrassed and suddenly began to worry that you smelled or he could feel how greasy you’d let it get but he said nothing. One of his arms wrapped around your waist and you let yourself lean against him, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry-” You began.

“Don’t be, I missed you,” Peter interjected. 

He stayed all day long and into the night, holding you close to him. Peter’s warmth and light was beginning to scare off the dark that had swallowed you whole and you found you could breathe easier. 

“Thank you,” You sleepily mumbled, ghosting your lips against his jaw appreciatively. 

“No need to thank me, I’ve got you,” He spoke simply, hand secure at the small of your back. 

Sometimes you forgot that all you needed was a little company from your friendly, lovely, gentle, neighborhood spider-man. 

[sergeanttpoliteness]

➹bruised knees➹ (peter parker x reader)

The one where you wish you had spent more time at the roller rink as a little kid, because you just so happen to be on a date with Peter Parker in a roller skating place and you can't exactly impress him with your extravagant arm movements as you try to keep your balance.

word count: 2.4k, short and sweet

a/n: hello @ whoever’s reading this! this my first time ever posting my writing here so i’m sort of nervous? it’s certainly not the last, tho, so feel free to help me out w ideas and send me requests if you want :) (more mcu pete, ps4 pete, itsv peter b. parker, miles morales, gwen, other mcu characters, don’t hold back!!) hope you enjoy !!

There were several things in your short life that you were proud of yourself for doing. Like how back in third grade, despite how complex subtractions were for you, you worked hard and were the only person to get an A in your math test. There’s also that time you won second place (and some tasty chocolates) in your science fair in middle school; and getting a good grade on your last physics exam, even if you procrastinated studying until the night before. Most importantly, though, you also made the fluffiest, most mouth-watering pancakes in the world (it wasn’t a proven fact, but still). What you couldn’t stop appreciating past you for, however, was mustering the courage two months ago during your chemistry class to approach the cute sweater-wearing boy called Peter.

Alright, that was a lie; you didn’t directly make the decision. Rather, you didn’t share that class with any of your friends and neither did he, so it wasn’t a surprise when you two were the last two people left without a partner to work with. But that wasn’t the tragedy of the year— far from it, actually. Every single chemistry lesson, your gaze never failed to take a stop on his pretty curls; brown like the chocolate you eat after a particularly terrible day. Peter was just like that: his serene posture, sat where the golden daylight lovingly showered over him, warmed your body and left a sweet and addicting taste behind. You didn’t even know him; he was nothing more than a magical reverie in your swirling head, yet he never failed to embarrassingly heat up your entire body and make your heart run the mile. Perhaps all that staring resulted in more studying at home, seeing as you barely paid attention to your teacher’s lectures, but that boy deserved all the admiring in the world and you’re glad to deliver just that. So when his eyes met yours from the other side of the class, you wasted no time in raising from your seat, your hands clammy and clenching closed as you walked toward him with determination.

Obviously, he agreed to be your partner. Or tried to, at least, for he couldn’t stop fumbling over his words. Throughout the whole period, his cheeks and ears were the shade of roses in valentines day, but it couldn’t mean anything, you thought. He did always sit in front of the window, after all; possibly the forceful sunlight was finally getting to him. He also accidentally spilled a substance all over your lab coat and shirt— thankfully, nothing toxic, and your upper half didn’t burst in flames. On the other hand, it left you smelling like a dead town during the Black Plague, and Peter hasn’t stopped apologizing for it ever since. You forgave him without a doubt; not purely because of your-slightly-too-big crush on him, but you undeniably had to when he lent you his sweater for his mistake, and that was when you knew you were a goner.

Regardless of that catastrophe, you two really got along. That was what drove you to confidently approach his table at lunch, ready to ask if you could sit with him and his friend. You may or may not have lost that confidence once his curious puppy eyes blinked up at you, leaving you frozen and muttering a long ‘uh’ as you rummaged your brain for the words you had practiced over and over again beforehand. Nevertheless, if you forget about that one part, you handled it like an absolute smooth legend and earned a daily seat with them.

Two months of blushing attacks, you and Peter staring at each other with bashful smiles, chemistry, and Ned rolling his eyes at the both of you for being so ridiculous have gone by; and for the third time, you were giving yourself a pep talk to ask Peter out on a date once and for all. The tables turned this time, though (thankfully), and one morning Peter pulled on his sweatshirt’s sleeves and bit his lip as he asked if you wanted to hang out with him.  

And that was the story of why you were here right now: tying the shoelaces of your heavy roller skates, and then grabbing onto the bench in great distress as you prepared to stand up. You panicked when Peter suggested going to a roller skating rink due to a small, somewhat important fact: you had no idea how to roller skate. The only time you’d ever done it was when you were five and your classmate invited you to her High School Musical themed roller skating birthday party— it ended with you skating (or, to be correct, stumbling) into the birthday girl, and her screaming as she held onto her broken ankle. Was it a silly trauma? Maybe; just like the time you showed up at kindergarten dressed as your favorite Disney character on the wrong day. But it certainly kept you away from ever practicing the activity again, which meant you had zero skill, and a hundred percent chance of turning out like the five-year-old birthday girl. However, you never confessed this fear to Peter. Because you’re dumb? Yes, indeed, but also because his eyes shimmered with excitement when he proposed the idea, and you really simply couldn’t bring yourself to shut him down. Instead, you marveled at him like you always did.

Peter swiftly rose to his feet, doing a suave spin in his roller skates perhaps to impress you; not that he would admit that to you, though. A wide precious smile spread across his face and he reached out his hands to you, offering his help. You accepted it, your fingers intertwining and spouting that glee within your chest that you repeatedly experienced whenever you touched; even if it was an accidental brush against your shoulder. “Ready?” He asked, squeezing your hands.

“Uh, yeah, of course,” You smirked, as if you hadn’t just been planning to twist your ankle so you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself in front of the boy you liked. “I’m a freaking pro.” Why did I say that?!, you thought, wincing internally.

Peter was thankful the darkness and the dancing neon beam lights left you oblivious to his flustered face after you stumbled a little and your hand shot out to grab his shoulder, throwing yourself flush against his chest. Now you were hugging him like a koala, with your other linked hands squished between your bodies. You sheepishly smiled up at him, gently pushing yourself away from him. “Hah. Sorry, I’m just a little rusty. It has been like fifty years, y’know?” You lied, avoiding his gaze.

“Y-yeah, no, it’s alright. Let’s just take it slow,” He took a step back and moved further away from you, your hands still connected. You didn’t think twice (it really wasn’t that deep) before raising one foot to advance, but you instantly regretted that decision when your other foot slid backwards. Your feet skidded all over the place, until Peter grabbed your waist and steadied you. “Whoa! You sure you know how to roller skate?” He laughed.

“Just a little rusty!” You insisted again, and to prove that your lie was indeed true, you began to slide your feet. “See? I got it!”

You did not have it. Not at all— you looked ridiculous. Since you couldn’t lift your left foot without falling, you only picked up your right foot and it made it appear as if you were limping after someone kicked you in the shin. You accomplished to skate into the rink; however, it was possible that it was thanks to Peter, considering he didn’t let go of your hand in fear of you falling. The truth was that he also just wanted to hold and touch you.

A turtle could’ve been considered faster than the two of you at that moment; you kept your hand plastered against the wall, squealing each time Peter tried to pick up the pace. “I’ve got you, don’t worry,” He smiled reassuringly, but you stayed fixed in the same place, glaring down at your roller skates. “Y/N, we literally haven’t even moved an inch away from the entrance—

“No, not really, we moved like ten inches!” You grinned nervously, inhaling deeply. “Gimme a few seconds, okay? I’ve got it! I’m just preparing myse— oh my fucking God!” You screamed too dramatically when Peter stopped listening to you and began to glide forward. You held onto his sweater’s sleeve for dear life, not moving your legs at all; he was the one dragging you slowly. In your head, it was the most terrifying thing in the world, but then you looked up at Peter’s wrinkled eyes as he burst into laughter and, just for a second, you forgot about the deadly wooden floor beneath.

For some idiotic reason, the designer of the rink decided it would be a fantastic idea for the railing not to start until the wall all the way across from the entrance. Once you reached it, you launched yourself toward it, clutching the metal rail tightly, your skates bumping into the wall. Peter extended his hand again, and you gladfully took it, this time one hand on the railing whilst the other in his. It took about eight long minutes, but first, you released the railing and eventually, you released Peter too.

"You did it!" He cheered as he watched you carefully glide your feet, your palms facing forward to balance yourself. "Look at yourself, what a professional!"

You loved it, you had to admit, how proudly he beamed at you and applauded your below mediocre work; even as a five-year-old sped by you two, doing some Olympic-like tricks with recognizable grace. That was when you noticed the adoration in his gaze— that same infatuation laced in your eyes whenever you happily admired him during chemistry class; that same syrupy sweetness that engulfed your self just because of him. His face made you lose your balance, which wasn't a big deal, until you transformed it into one with your alarm. You flailed your arms wildly, staggering, and Peter reached out, ready to stabilize you. However, you managed to stop your fall.

You breathed out in relief at your victory, giggling. "I really just defeated death— ah!"

You immediately fell forward. Peter hissed at the painful sound of your knees smashing on the floor, quickly crouching down in front of you to see if you were okay.

"Ohh my God, are— are you okay?" He couldn't help the way his voice wavered as he tried to keep in his laughter. He didn't last a moment longer, though, a quiet laugh slipping through his lips. "You didn't defeat death after all, huh?" You rolled your eyes at him, but who were you kidding— you snorted, chuckling along with him.

"You really have the nerve to laugh at me. Just wait for the tables to turn once I see you fall on your ass." You playfully nudged his shoulder with your hand, yet gripped his own outstretched one to lift yourself. You advanced to continue skating, but stopped when Peter stayed put, smirking at you. "What?"

"I've got an idea," He said, smoothly sliding to stand in front of you with his back facing you. "You're not gonna get to enjoy if you're just worrying about falling, so hold onto my shoulders."

You lifted a brow, scoffing. "Wow, I can't believe you don't think I can do this on my own," You teased and shook your head, but did as he said nonetheless. He glanced back at you, telling you to prepare yourself and hold on tight, and then began moving at a normal pace. "If I fall on my face, then I swear to God—"

"Not gonna happen. Don't worry," He reassured, sliding his feet with ease. After doing one lap around the entire roller rink and you had the chance to become acquainted with the movement, he picked up his speed. "Tell me if you want to slow down, okay?"

You don't say a word, and soon you and Peter were dashing past the people, both howling in excitement and the muscles of your face aching from smiling so brightly. You watched the blurs of colors go by, similar to vehicles in a highway at night while the music blasted from the stereo and the breeze invaded you through your open window, embracing your cheeks with its icy fingertips. Peter occasionally grinned back at you; they were just short glances, but in that split second he got to see you, a heat blossomed within him just like a small and shy plant opening up to the soft daylight of the sun. That exact moment— the one he hoped would never come to end— he realized how deep he was in, and how content he was that it was you, and not someone else. 

On the other hand, that also was the moment a little girl accidentally hit the back of your roller skates and sent you down straight to the floor, bringing Peter down with you.

Yet again, you crashed your right knee and this time your elbow, too, against the hard surface. Peter tumbled on his back, almost underneath you. Of course, you groaned internally, of course we had to fall on top of each other. Can't miss that. You're sure you broke your knee as well and after a quick check, you saw that your elbow was bleeding.

But despite the pain and embarrassment, you two laid there wheezing— your hand on his vibrating chest and his hands on your shoulders. And it happened, just like always: your laughter stopped, and you both stared into each other's eyes with adoration, timid smiles adorning your faces. His smile vanished, replaced by wide, big nervous eyes. He sneaked his hand up your skin until it reached your cheek and it remained there, his thumb caressing you tenderly. He lifted himself up to his elbows, and without a word or a second to hesitate, he leaned forward—  a gentle, careful peck on your lips. He broke away. "I'm sorry," He whispered, "I probably should've asked, but you just looked s-so pretty and I didn't want to waste the moment—"

You collided your lips against his, kissing him deeply, your arms around his neck. He raised his other hand, cupping your face lovingly. And you're just there, on the ground, in a roller rink, with bruised knees, and creating quite the traffic. But you didn't mind at all; even if later you'd squirm with humiliation, even if your knees hurt so badly. Because you weren't going to break away from Peter, and neither was he.

[theinkquiry]

Christmas at the Tower

Prompt: Quick snapshots of what’s going on at Avengers Tower this Christmas

Starring: Peter and Tony, Steve and Bucky, Clint and Nat, & Thor and Loki

A/N: I haven’t posted in a ridiculously long amount of time, but I decided to get my ass in gear for the holidays. I hope you guys have a wonderful rest of 2018 and get lots of great gifts this year!

December 24th, 11:59 PM- Iron-Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

Tony yawned as he watched his bots drill in the final pieces on his new Reindeer Revolver 2.5. A t-shirt launcher style machine that could fire reindeer plushies with maximum speed, silence, and accuracy. That’ll show Barton. He grabbed his mug and tried to take a big gulp, only to be met with a few cold drops of coffee and disappointment.

“FRIDAY, whip me up a fresh brew.” Tony put down the mug and rubbed his eyes.

“Apologies, Mr. Stark. Mr. Parker has insisted you get a good night’s rest instead.” The AI replied. Tony could hear the smugness in her robotic voice.

“Since when did the kid-”

“He’s here, Mr. Stark.” FRIDAY cut him off.

Right on cue, the elevator chimed. Tony swiveled around just in time to see a tinsel-covered Peter barrelling towards him. He barely had time to get up before he caught the boy in his arms. A crinkling package the size of his upper body blocking most of his view.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Stark!” Peter hopped back, holding out his slightly crushed gift.

Tony took the package off the boy’s hands with a chuckle. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, kid?”

“I wanted to be the first one to give you your present. Aunt May helped me with the wrapping, but I picked it out and put the bow on top.” Peter pointed to the little robots wearing Santa hats. He looked up at the man with bated breath.

Tony shook the package back and forth, holding it up to his ear. “Is it… a new robot?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Come on, Mr. Stark, just open it already!”

“Alright, alright. Here we go!” Tony peeled off the tape, trying not to ruin the packaging. Taking a look at Peter, he tore open the wrappers faster. The boy looked like he would combust if Tony didn’t open it right that moment. Leaving the loose paper on the floor, he held up a familiarly dressed teddy bear.

“It’s you!” Peter exclaimed. “At first I thought it would be kinda dumb, but then Build-A-Bear just had to go and release the new Ironman bear. But when I went it was like, totally off. They couldn’t even get your hair right, so I got a regular bear and did it right. If you press the arc reactor, it’ll make laser noises. Isn’t that cool?”

Peter seemed to shrink as he rambled on. The poor kid, Tony thought. He was at a loss for what to say. He put in so much effort just to get a bear to look just like him. It had the little sunglasses and a tiny suit and everything. And true to his word, the arc reactor let out sound effects upon being pressed.

“This is, by far, the most handsome bear I’ve ever seen. Wouldn’t you agree, FRIDAY?” Tony held it up for inspection.

“Indeed, sir,” FRIDAY responded.

“You really like it?” Peter clasped his hands together.

Tony nodded and pat his head. “Of course I do! Look at this guy, he’s just like me! Only thing missing is a little matching spider-son bear. Hey, FRIDAY remind me to get that in the works tomorrow-”

“On it, sir.”

“-Thank you for the gift, Peter. I really appreciate it. This is by far going to be the best gift I’ve gotten.”

Peter looked like he was going to burst into tears. “I’m so glad you like it, Mr. Stark.”

“Aw, don’t cry on me kid. C’mere.” Tony opened his arms for a hug and was promptly tackled to the floor by the boy. It wasn’t as soft as he’d expected, but he laid there on the floor and hugged Peter as tightly as he could. He didn’t even mind breathing in the tinsel and aroma of burnt cookies from his holiday sweater.

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter scratched his head after helping the older man up.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. These kinds of reflexes are what makes you a top mark Avenger,” Tony grinned. Peter’s smile alone could have made ten Christmasses for the billionaire. “Say, why don’t we go up for some late night cocoa, get some rest, and then you can help me put the finishing touches on my Reindeer Revolver tomorrow morning?”

“Really?” Peter’s mouth was agape.

“Sure!” Tony nodded. “Your Aunt May can help too. She makes the best gingersnap cookies, I swear.”

The two stepped into the elevator and rode it all the way up to the main living space. A twinkling tree and pile of gifts greeted them upon entering the room. Tony pulled out two mugs as Peter fished out the cocoa powder and milk.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Stark.”

“You too, kid. You too.”

December 25th, 8:00 AM- Two Old Hoots

It wasn’t exactly the most traditional thing to be out and about on Christmas morning. Everyone was probably back at the tower enjoying the premium heating and eating chocolate chip cookies for breakfast. Part of him wanted to be back there with them, laughing and celebrating, but another part of Steve told him that he needed to be here. Walking around Central Park on the jolliest day of the year all by himself.

It was tranquil and cold. It had snowed just two days ago, covering the park in fluffy white flakes and crystal ice. There wasn’t a single soul in sight, except for the occasional squirrel and bird. Deeper into the park, the city noises faded away and all Steve was left with was his own thoughts and the whispering wind.

Here it felt less like he didn’t belong. It was familiar, even if a lot has changed in the park itself as well. He could close his eyes and imagine the winters he used to know. Him and Bucky sledding down hills and collapsing in a giant pile of stitched jackets and snow at the bottom. Peeking through shop windows for toys that they couldn’t afford. Sitting near the fireplace and talking about nothing for hours, huddling closer for warmth.

Opening his eyes and being greeted with none of it. Sometimes Steve was so confused on how he felt about just existing. If he really was supposed to be here, or if he should have just spent another Christmas taking an ice nap. He exhaled, releasing a single cloud of cold breath into the air.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Steve turned his head. A few steps behind him stood Bucky, wrapped up in a giant knit hat and scarf. His hands shoved into his pockets, and hair covering part of his face.

“How’d ya know?” Steve went back to gazing at the frozen lake.

He heard Bucky stand next to him and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “Call it intuition or years of training as the perfect tracker.”

Steve let out a single snort.

Bucky sighed. “We missed you at the tower this mornin’. I figured you just needed to clear your head. Presents already got opened though, so I figured I’d bring yours to you.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow and Bucky fished out two rectangles from inside his coat.

“It ain’t everything. Peter got you something the size of the tree, and I wasn’t gonna lug it all the way out here for your sorry ass. But these two are from me.”

Steve snorted. “That’s one way to start a Christmas.”

“Says the guy who got up at the crack of dawn to mope in a park.” Bucky elbowed the supersoldier. “Now are you gonna open ‘em?”

He gingerly unwrapped the package, revealing a picture frame. Turning it around, Steve gasped. “It’s…”

A very old photograph was tucked between the glass. Steve hadn’t seen it in decades. He recognized it as an old picture from his youth with Bucky. The two goofing off and having the grandest old time at Brighton Beach. His ma used to have it up near the radio back in the old Brooklyn apartment.

“Tony helped me track it down. I figured you could use it just about now.” Bucky squeezed his shoulder. Steve rested his head on his chest, letting a few rare tears escape from his eyes.

“It’s perfect, Buck.” He clutched the frame close to his chest and felt a wave of emotion sweep over him.

“Don’t you want to open up the other one too?”

Steve wiped away the tears with his sleeve, laughing. He handed over the first gift to Bucky while opening the second one. It was another picture, except taken in the 21st century. A snapshot of mornings at Avengers Tower. Taken by Peter, by the looks of it. The young boy tried to get into frame while holding the camera, only managing to capture the top half of his face. Steve knew he was smiling though. In the corner, Stark was scrolling through his phone but looked up just in time to shoot a casual smile. Nat had one of her friendlier blank faces on as she sipped on a cup of tea. In the back, Bruce and Thor could be seen chatting animatedly about something while Clint stuck his tongue out, holding a mug that read “Best Bird Dad.”

And right in the middle was Steve and Bucky curled up on the couch. The latter still grumpy from being woken up too early, but Steve was smiling.

Looking at it, he was overcome with a strange sense of peace. It didn’t feel like the good old days, but it did feel like home.

He looked up at Bucky, puzzled. The man only shrugged. “I know you miss it. The simpler days. Trust me, I know how you feel. We’ve lost so much and we’ve struggled. I don’t know how to explain it all that well, but I know that we ain’t alone.”

“Bucky…”

“I miss ‘em too. My ma, your ma, Becky… I know it’s not the forties anymore, but I just wanted you to know that you’ve still got a family. And you’ve still got me.”

Steve took another look at the two pictures. He still got a family.

“Now let’s head back before Tony eats all of the cookies. Peter said he saved some for me, but that kid’s big heart leads to trouble. All Tony needs to do is flash his sad dad eyes.”

The two burst out laughing as they headed out, hand in hand.

“Maybe it’s a sign that you should lay off the sweets then, punk.” Steve punched his arm.

“Jerk.” Bucky shoved him.

Walking back to the tower, Steve’s heart felt lighter.

December 25th, 2:39 PM- Reindeers, Hawks, and Spiders

Fwoop!

“Ow! That is it!” Clint stomped his foot and got up from the couch. A plush reindeer fell from his lap. Scooping it up, the archer marched down the hall and knocked on Natasha’s door ten times.

Nat opened the door to find a fuming Clint. “Merry Christmas to you too, Barton.”

“Cut the bullshit, Nat. I need your help.” Clint invited himself in and sat down on the purple beanbag chair. Nat had to buy it after the thirtieth time Clint came barging in like this.

Nat looked both ways in the hall before shutting her door. She was just in the middle of a movie marathon and a piping hot cup of jasmine tea. “What can I do that Prancer there can’t?”

Clint scoffed. “First of all, this is Vixen. You can tell by the antler shape. Second of all, revenge.”

The redhead stayed silent, making exaggeratedly loud sips.

“Stark’s stupid reindeer gun has been pelting me with these freaking deer all day long! All because I left one on his desk.”

“Really. Just one?” Nat didn’t sound convinced.

Clint whistled. “Yeah, one… every day for the entire month.”

Nat groaned. “This was your own doing!”

“Come on, Nat! You gotta help me. I got like, twenty in my room alone! I can’t even leave a room without being pelted in the face with one of these.”

“What do you want me to do?” Nat folded her arms.

Clint thought for a moment. “Stark has a little spider minion. Now it is time for me to recruit one of my own.”

“You do realize that, unlike Peter, I can’t shoot webs?”

“Oh don’t worry Nat,” Clint rubbed his hands together. “You don’t need to…”

Tony checked the lab, his room, and even the freezer. Peter was nowhere to be found. Not that the kid had to be next to him at all times, he just had a habit of always being near Tony. Especially when they’re in cahoots like they are now. Peter had been helping the man get Clint back for all the deer pranks. Something told him that not all was right in the Tower. It was way too long since Tony had run into Clint or Peter. In fact, Nat seemed to have disappeared as well. When Tony came by to deliver another batch of cookies, the spy was missing from her usual obscure Russian Christmas movie marathon. He re-entered the living room, coming face to face with the prankee himself.

“End of the line, Stark.” Clint held up two reindeer plushies by their hind legs, pointing them like guns.

Tony drew up his launcher. “I would be very careful with those, Barton.”

The tension in the air was palpable. The two men stared the other down, all the while guarding their weapons. Tony could only fire three plushies at a time. He’d need to go back to the lab or his office for refills. There was actually a sack of three dozen more behind the tree, but Barton didn’t need to know that. The price he had to pay for easy transport. Clint, on the other hand, had at least five more shoved under his sweater, but he would need to successfully hit each time. He may be a good shot, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be faster than an actual deer blaster.

Peter was having the time of his life. He didn’t know what miracle made it come true, but God or Santa must have been real that Christmas day because Natasha finally let him decorate her sweater!

“Aren’t those supposed to be used for Halloween?” She asked as he glued plastic spiders onto her red sweater.

“Yeah, but they fit your aesthetic.” Peter pointed out.

As he stood back to admire his work, which was a ton of spiders with smiley faces on them dancing around a sign that read I hope your Christmas is Deadly Fun!

Even Nat had to admit it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. The sound of glass breaking upstairs and a lot of shouting ruined the mood, though.

Peter could feel his Spidey sense go off as he rushed upstairs. The redhead trailed not far behind.

Upon entering the room, it was clear that they had just witnessed the aftermath of a war zone. Piles of reindeer plushies littered the floor. Tony and Clint lay on the floor, covered in Comets and Dashers. A few ornaments were knocked down from the tree, making a giant glittery mess on the floor.

“He started it!” They both shouted at the same time. Peter laughed, taking out his phone to get pictures as Nat shook her head.

“You two are cleaning this mess up.”

December 25th, 7:00 PM- You’re a Green One, Mr. Loki

“I don’t understand why we need to do all of this,” Loki grumbled as Thor plopped an elf hat on him. The younger sibling hadn’t quite taken to the holidays they celebrated on Midgard like his older brother. Upon learning of this fact about himself, the young Spider-boy had dubbed him ‘Mister Grinch’ and got a very good laugh out of everyone from it.

Loki only frowned. They were on their way to visit the Avengers for Stark’s holiday get-together, but the God of Mischief was dragging his feet.

“Come now, brother. Our friends are expecting us. The young lad Peter expressed to me his desire for you especially to join them again this year.” Thor said.

“Really now?” Loki scoffed. “And for what, to unveil to me more names of mockery?”

Thor only grinned. “I know you hold a soft spot in your heart for our Midgard friends. Let us go! You’ll surely feel the spirits of the holidays once we arrive!”

“I don’t think that’s what they meANT!” Loki yelped as Thor whisked them away with his hammer to Midgard.

Upon arriving at the tower, the pair were greeted with raised glasses and hugs all around. The latter coming mostly from Peter.

“Merry Christmas, my fellow Avengers!” Thor’s voice boomed. Loki slunk behind, trying not to draw so much attention. It seemed to work for the most part, as the heroes were all crowding around Thor.

Natasha walked up to him. “Did you bring the God Mead?”

Thor held out the bottle. “Yes, but I’d recommend extreme caution if you were to drink it. It could bring trouble to your tiny mortal bodies.”

“That’s just what I need.” Nat took it and went to pour herself a glass without another word.

Everyone else seemed to be having a blast on their own. Barely sparing a glance at the man all alone and brooding in the corner. The little boy-spider, however; was not as keen to leave him alone.

“Mr. Loki!” Peter rushed up to him. “I got you this!”

Loki didn’t have time to react as Peter put a felt hat in his hands. Unfolding the fabric, he could see that it was another elf hat with the words God of Mischi-ELF embroidered poorly onto it.

“Get it?”

Loki did not, but nodded anyway to spare the boy his feelings. This seemed to work, as Peter continued to talk about lots of other things at a very rapid pace. He could see how he was beginning to take after the antics of Stark.

“I wasn’t gonna sew it on, but I thought I could give embroidery a try and let me tell you, it was not easy. I looked up like thirty different YouTube tutorials. Aunt May tried to help, but I was too far gone by then. Still, I don’t think this was bad for my first time.”

“I could teach you.” Loki knew not what forces prompted him to speak those words. Yet, seeing the young boy’s face light up made a form of pride bubble up inside him.

“Really?” Peter whispered. “You know how to do embroidery?”

Loki shrugged. “Sure. My mother taught me.”

“Wow, Mr. Loki! Thank you so much! Wait ‘til Ned hears about this. I get to learn to embroider from a God!” Peter scurried off to hand Thor a similar hat that read Holly, Jolly, Godly on it.

As discreetly as he could, Loki quietly replaced the hat he was already wearing with the one Peter made for him. Looking at himself in the window reflection, the trickster though that it didn’t look half bad.

“Alright, everyone! Time for pictures!” Tony called. “You too, Mischi-elf.”

Gathering around the tree, Loki sulked in silence as Stark, Clint, and Steve bickered on how best to execute the photo.

“Nice hat.” Natasha appeared next to him.

Loki stared at her sweater curiously. “I could say the same for your Earth garment.”

“Peter.” She answered. The two shared a smile right as they announced the photo was to be taken.

Although it still looked like Loki was being his usual gloomy self in the photograph, if one looked closely they could see the faintest hint of a smile.

[auntmaydoesnotknow]

how long did we sleep?

A/N: i know it’s not perfect but i tried and this is my first fic by the way🖖🏻

Summary: after trip to Europe,you and your friends team up to celebrate MJ’s birthday,but something between her and Peter isn’t the same

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warnings: not so massive Far From Home spoilers i guess???

You weren’t the type of girl who desired to be popular in school. You liked staying after lessons to study in a computer class or practice in labs to check some of your designs . Despite that,you were a real badass. You liked sneaking out at nights to go to the parties or hang out with your friends. You enjoyed Central Park at night time more therefore you were stargazing there almost every night. You liked staying in the hidden place in the library until the very late hours to be able to read in silence and absence of others and then exiting through the broken window.And you also really appreciated your family and loved spending time with them.

You knew you were hard to understand but you didn’t need anyone to do it or tell you compliments.

You hear the bell ring and rush towards the hall to the bathroom.

She is never late so she must be in the class already and you have some time before you meet her.the teacher will probably be annoyed at you for being late again but you decide to finish what’s more important to you right now.

You put the cup of coffee and your bag on the bathroom sink.

“I am very very very sorry” - you write on the inner side of the book cover you bought for your best friend - “Sorry i became your friend only a year ago. You’re the bestest friend i ever had. It’s a fact. And imma be late for the physics class but i’m just hoping your smile would be worth it. MJ,thank you for being glowing,smart af,genuine,indescribable and rEaL friend for me. i love you”

You take a black ink pen to add some hearts and write a post scriptum

“P.s. i was searching for this book a lot for you and i hope you love it”

you close the book,lace it with a black ribbon and write on a coffee cup “happy birthday,hmmmmMJ”

You and MJ. Your friendship started as unexpectedly as you saw her reading your favorite book at the party.You approached to her and that was the moment you both felt something new - how do they call it?oh yes - soulmates thing.

You two are literally soulmates - MJ sees you through and understands you perfectly,you do the same. You’ve changed a lot since you became MJ’s friend and you’re pretty sure this change was an improvement.

You put the book in the bag,take the coffee and catch a glimpse of your reflection - girl in the mirror smiled and was looking excited about making her friend happy.

You leave the bathroom and examine the hall in search of the principle. Your eyes didn’t find anybody so you start quickly heading to the class at the same time checking on your watch.

Well,I’m late for just 3 minutes,I can praise mysel-

The moment after you look at the time once again,you bump into someone and close your eyes as you feel like the cap from the coffee cup has fallen down.

You silently swear and pray it’s not principle. You open your eyes and see Peter’s perplexed face and chuckle.

“God damn Peter watch yourself”You smile pretending to be mad at him and raise free arm to hug him.

You and Peter. You two got very close as you started hanging out with MJ. At first,you knew Peter as a boy MJ was at one Decathlon team at,than the boy she seemed to have feelings for and only then you got to know him personally when he and mj started dating.

He appeared to be very cute and kind-hearted and you couldn’t deny he was attractive to you. But you knew he was already into SoMeOnE and SoMeOnE was also kinda attracted. Generally, you got to know him in Europe trip and generally,the same time he and Michelle confessed their feelings to each other. They started dating bu you remained good friends and so did you,Ned and Peter. Ned and you were pretty sure there was something Parker and MJ were hiding about their relationship that might have happened between them but you didn’t demand to know about it.

Oh and you knew Peter was Spiderman. To be honest,you were not surprised as you and MJ have noticed his strange behavior a long ago but when he confessed it to you everything became explainable.

Parker hugs you back and sets the coffee cap back to the cup. When he holds you close,you can feel his chest moving fast and you can tell he was in a hurry. Again.

“Is everything okay?”You ask softly as you make sure the coffee hasn’t been spilt.

“Yeah,I just missed a bus”He smiles and fixes his hair. and you wish you could run your fingers through these curls as they were the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. But there was already someone else who had the right to do it. And being aware of that made you shiver inside every time.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been running your way to school” you playfully frown

Peter imitates he rolled his eyes and asks you if your gift was ready.

“It is and it’s all cool to talk but we seem to be late” You answer with a smile on your face

“Yeah yeah sure”

His hand suddenly touches yours while you walk towards the class next to each other. You can feel your heart skip a beat and wonder why you even feel this. Peter looks at you without turning his head but you pretend to stay calm and look straight . And that’s why you can’t notice slight blush on Peter’s face and a little sparkle in his eyes.

——————

You open the class door,apologize to the teacher and quickly take your place next to MJ. You wink to Ned and look at the birthday girl. She is sitting still but you can tell by her smile she is glad to see you. You carefully pass her the coffee and watch her eyes shimmer and smile widen as she reads the words written on the cup.

“Happy birthday, cutie” You say and blow her a kiss

She chuckles and whispers quite thank you when Peter rushes into the class according to your plan which included not to show up to the class late together.

“I-I’m sorry,Mr.Clark,I was late for the bus so I -”

“Stop excuses,Mr.Parker,and take your place,We’re all used to your lateness. As much as we are used to Y/N’s one” The teacher looks at you and you silently pray he’s not going to say what he was going to say

“I think it’s time for you both to pay for your morning sleep and stay after the lessons”He sentences

“No!” You both blurt”Please not today,maybe tomorrow?it’s very important ,we can’t stay today,please!”Mr.Clark stops Peter’s begging with shaking his head and continues the lesson.

You press your palms to your face and sigh deeply,then you look at Peter who seems to be as disappointed as you and finally,MJ.

She looks a bit worried but whispers”Don’t worry,we can figure it out”

As the lessons ends,you stand up quickly and hug Michelle. “I’m really sorry” you say pitifully “But I think Peter and I can skip today’s detention,right?” You look at Peter and he nods at once after placing Mj a kiss on her cheek.

“No,no,guys,you don’t have to”Michelle says “I wanted to tell you that my “party”(she imitates quotes) is being put off”

“What?”Ned says loudly

“Yeah,my parents want to spend time with me. I’m not saying we’re not having fun today. I’m just suggesting you to meet 2 hours later. Will you be able to?”

Three of you nod and you sigh with relief.

“Okay,I’m going to French and you boys better buy your gift already”

MJ chuckles and Peter slightly kicks your shoulder when you walk by.

—————————-

When the lessons are over,you meet MJ to make sure if everything okay and then head to detention room.

Peter is already sitting there and you sit next to him. He smiles when he sees you and you smile back and feel really warm inside.

You open the bag and show him the pack of sour patch. Parker grins and tries to quietly move his desk close to yours.

There is no one else but almost sleeping teacher in the room so you two start talking loudly about your favorite movies and end up finding out that your mutual favorite film was «Men in Black».

You chuckle “Yeah and I really didn’t want J to erase K’s memory”

«I know,that was unexpected. Um,Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to team up this weekend and kinda rewatch the trilogy?”

“Movie night at Parker’s?Sure,sounds cool”it does sounds cool and all but you hesitate about what mj was going to say

“Sure?” He asks a bit shyly

“Sure as hell!” You smile and pretend to look at your phone to hide your excitement

Then you frown and ask like it’s not something you do care about but deep in your heart you know you do “Should i tell MJ and Ned?”

Peter keeps silence for a second and then says while running his fingers through his hair nervously

“A-Actually I thought - I thought they don’t like this movie”

You look at him and smile,then nod and check on time while the heat is rising from your toes to your head and then fills your whole body with excitement and you smile again,even wider now.

“Hey,I guess we’re free” He tells you pointing at the teacher who is already asleep. You eat the last sour patch bear and stand up quietly.

——-

You and Peter live not really far from each other,that’s why he decided to walk you to your house. You have never been at Peter’s and he has not visited your house yet but he often walked you to the doors and hugged you and this cuddles could lift you up for the rest of the day. Today was not an exception. You agreed to meet in half an hour to go to MJ’s place together.

When you come in,you hear the smell of melting cheese and go to kitchen to kiss your mom. You warn her that tonight’s MJ’s birthday and you’re going to be late.

She nods and gives you a sandwich that you bite as you go to your room. You choose to wear something casual so youtake off your Y/F/C(your favorite color) hoodie and put on Y/P/C(your preferred color)tie-die t-shirt and jeans(idk whatever u like to imagine)

The gift for MJ is still in your bag and you take it as you go to the bathroom.

———

When it’s time to meet up with Peter,Ned and Betty you all get a message from MJ that the picnic you have planned is still in you schedule so you guys start heading to her house.

Betty was your another close friend,though not as close as any of the guys. She was super nice and cute and that’s why Ned extremely liked her. You could tell Ned has changed a lot to the better and that was an obvious sign of the good impact of the relationships for you.

While you’re in the subway,you teach Ned how to do the hand sign(🖖🏻) from Star Trek and once you looked at Peter,he was always looking at you. You thought to yourself you were overthinking and try to forget this. Every time you wanted to think he really felt something for you,you couldn’t help but feeling guilty for doing this to Mj’s boyfriend. So you tried to wash these thoughts away.

When you get to the destination,you see MJ waving to you with the bag full of food. She looked very happy and it made you even happier. As you see her,you run to her and hug her and everyone else does the same as they approach.

———

When you settle down your picnic rug on the grass under the tree next to Michelle’s apartment and set all the beverages and snacks,Betty clears her throat and says enthusiastically “Time for presents”

MJ stands up and you beat your knees with your hands. “Should I start?” You ask everyone and when they nod,you go on

“Michelle,it’s my first your birthday and I’m glad I’m here with unbelievable you and you guys. Um, I’ve never had a friend like you,yeah,and speeches are definitely not my cup of tea,but i know for sure, that you are great,beautiful and kind person and you deserve everything you think you don’t and more”

You see her smiling and lean closer to hug her and whisper in her ear quite “I love you” and she nods with the happiness in your eyes and it’s the best thing you have ever seen.

Everyone else congratulated MJ with their gifts and hugged her and everyone was joyful. But there was one thing that bothered you - when Peter and Ned were embracing Michelle,you could notice that Parker hugged her differently. Not the way he hugged you. When you two were hugging,he was holding you tight and for a long time. His hug with MJ seemed way shorter but you decided not to overthink again. But it kept bothering you throughout the night.

———-

During the party,you were eating fruits,listening to music and talking about some stupid things. You saw MJ happy and you felt admired by how happiness suits her face.

Somebody suggested taking polaroids so you all were changing poses while some tourist was making photos. He made about 20 different polaroids and you decided that MJ is going to take them home to choose and then give some of them to her friends.

——-

When the sun set,you started packing things to go up at MJ’s apartment and have a movie night.

You discussed everyone’s wishes and decided to binge-watch first season of Stranger Things.

You settled blankets,pillows and snacks on the floor and Ned put on the show.

You were sitting between Betty and MJ,Peter was sitting on the left side to MJ.

You loved the atmosphere that was in the room and looked down to pick up another nacho and expected to witness MJ and Peter holding hands as they did as often as possible. But to your surprise they weren’t. Moreover,they were not even leaning closer to each other which made you wonder.

In 15 minutes,Ned saw Betty yawning and suggested changing positions for her to lay down comfortably. You appeared to sit next to Peter and MJ which made your nerves tingle. Michelle took the polaroids from her pocket and started checking which of them were good. Parker offered you the last nacho in the bag and when you perplexedly accepted it he got up and approached the trash can in the corner of the room to throw the empty packs.

Suddenly, you feel MJ grab your wrist and pulling you with her

“Don’t pause the episode,we’ll be right back” she said happily while taking you with her out of the room and closing the door.

“Um,is everything okay?” You ask looking puzzled

“Even better! Let me tell you something” Michelle took you to the kitchen and you sat on the counter still wondering what on earth made MJ leave her favorite show playing.

“So”she started excitedly “I was browsing through polaroids we took and found this”

She handed you the picture of five of you standing in front of MJ’s house while hugging each other. It was taken the moment you noticed Ned’s hat wasn’t his,but Mr.Harrington’s and he changed them by incident so all of you were laughing. It was really pure but you still didn’t get what MJ so head over heels

And then

You laid your eyes on Peter. He wasn’t standing next to you,but he was looking at you. When everyone was looking at camera,he was looking at you. The wind was playing with his curly wonderful hair,the warm smile lit his face and his eyes were directed at you. Was it affection inside them? Love? You didn’t know

But was eager to.

“MJ,this pic is awesome and I look less gross than always here but what is it supposed to mean?”

“Look,things weren’t good for me and Pete lately” she joined you on the counter and put her hand on your lap “We both don’t think we should continue pretending to be a couple when we’re not anymore.”

“What? Uh,does it mean...?”

“Yeah,it’s over” she said with no drop of disappointment on her face,but joy

“But...but why? What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“No,no calm down” MJ chuckled “I’m just not that into him anymore. And when i talked to him,he confessed the same. I mean”she continued seeing your perplexed face “we mean a lot to each other but it doesn’t work the same way it did. It’s fine,really,we both moved on.”

“Wait-You too?”

“Yeah,i got someone,but,nevermind,it’s not what we are talking about”

“And while you’re thinking it over” she leaned closer to you “ I don’t see a point in hiding your feelings for him anymore”

“No way we’re talking about this again” you raised your hands in your defense “You broke up and how can you know he’s not hurt and doesn’t want you back and- and how can you know he wants someone else? Someone else but you?” You asked more seriously

“Because the eyes,Y/N. They never lie” she winked at you and told to keep the polaroid to yourself

You wanted to stop her but she was already gone with a wide smile on her face.

You covered your face with your hands and smiled inside them like in a pillow. Then you jumped off the counter and headed to the room with Michelle’s words pulsing in your temples.

————

You opened the door and saw Betty and Ned snoring on each other’s shoulders. MJ was telling something to Peter as his eyes widened and a wide smile appeared on his face.

You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes which you used to erase the blush from your cheeks.

You walked in and Peter stood up the moment you closed the door.

“I-I,ugh-I remember we planned spending the night in here and I’m sticking to the plan,I just need to go out for a second or two to buy coffee,I don’t feel so good(*) and I guess fresh air and coffee is the only thing I need right now,huh” You tried to look calm and even tried to chuckle but ended up having a flimsy grin on your face. “Do-do you mind?” You asked,more to MJ,not trying to look Peter straight in his eyes. “I can buy coffee for every one so we can survive the night?”

Pathetic. Your main rule was to never look pathetic and that was exactly how you looked. At least you thought so

“Yeah,sure,no problem. I’ll text you then which coffee guys would want to.” Michelle saw you through. She knew you just wanted to leave for a minute to calm your nerves and she understood you.

You smiled to her and forced yourself to smile to Parker,then left the apartment with nothing but your phone and hoodie Peter gave you as it was cold outside.

————-

You were sitting in front of the coffee shop for 10 minutes now,trying to analyze everything. You didn’t know what made you so nervous but you felt like it was bursting inside of you and you couldn’t help it. You felt even more pathetic for leaving although your motto was to never run from the problems but face them. But tonight you felt like it was necessary for you to take a break from being powerful and independent.

You took a sip of the night air,looked up at the stars and realized how small and shitty your problems were and suddenly you calmed down.

If Peter likes you,then he will do something himself. You like him for forever but never noticed any signs of mutual attention. You craved him for so long and he always craved someone else. You told yourself that if you feel like it tonight,you will tell him. Tell him about it and then probably jump out of the window and disappear. Or lock yourself in the bathroom. Yes. The latter would work.

You chuckled and walked into the shop with joy on your face.

“Um,I’ll have two capuccinos,two lattes and one iced coffee with double ice,please”

“Double ice?” Barista grinned

“Yeah,I kinda like the cold”

“Twenty four fifty” the barista claimed

“Sure,her-“

“I’ll pay” you hear the voice behind your back

“Pete?” You frown and smile to the awesome cute hot curly chocolate boy in front of you

“Hey” he rubs the back of his neck,while he’s in a black t-shirt that shows his muscles “Do you feel better?”

“I think so. I like to think this happened because i had too much fun today”

“Then this should happen to me every time I’m with you”

You blinked and felt the burning desire to hug him really hard.

Instead,you smiled and with hesitations ran your fingers through his hair.

He looked at you with admiration and gently grabbed your wrist.

“I- I really think we need to talk”

“Yeah-yeah, we do”you burst out laughing

——————

You walked out of the coffeeshop and he stopped you by tapping your shoulder.

“Look,Y/N,I-“

“I like you,Pete” you interrupted and was brave enough to look into his eyes “I’ve been acting so pathetic lately but it’s just because I couldn’t keep it from you any longer.You’re the sweetest boy I ever met. I like your crazy hair that you hate. I love our hugs because they make my days.Your smile is like actually the best smile ever” you laughed and continued “You’re a genius,you’re so smart,you’re kind-hearted,you help people and you’re just you. That’s why I like you. Yes, I like you. And it doesn’t mean you should tell me you like me back as i don’t want your words to be fake. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way and I would gladly stay your friend for the rest of my life” you finished and took a sip of coffee to regain bravery.

Peter looked at you with sparks in his brown eyes and smile on his lips and started

“I like you too,Y/N, a lot. Thank you for telling me all of this but- You’re not pathetic,being yourself and having emotions and feelings isn’t pathetic,alright? ”

You nodded

“I extremely like you and I’m being 100% genuine to you. I’ve never met anyone like you”

and before you could understand it,he kissed you

Peter Parker kissed you and you never knew you needed it that much.

—————————

You came to MJ’s apartment holding hands and none of you ever wanted to let this moment slip away.

When MJ saw you two she smiled and made an impression of fainting. You laughed and hugged her whispering “thank you so much for making me do this step”

“Me? yes,it was me,will you make me your bridesmaid?”

You continued watching the episode laying on Peter’s shoulder and holding his hand. He seemed carried away by the joy of finally being with someone he truly loved.

He kissed your temple right when sleeping couple of Ned and Betty on the right stood up

“Wait,how much did we sleep?”

[doctor243]

The Girl Who Cried Wolf Chapter 3

I know I haven’t posted in FOREVER, but I promise I haven’t abandoned this!  

Summary: 5 Times MJ says she loves Peter, and 1 time he says it back.

Characters: Michelle Jones, Peter Parker, OC

Things had a way of going exactly as Peter expected it to. Like Aunt May burning the new soup she was trying (who the heck can burn soup??) or Ned being absolutely reliable in every single situation that you needed him (except when Betty Brant was involved, because then priorities change, and Peter understood that). It wasn’t always a good thing, because he always expected cafeteria food to be trash, and he always expected Flash to pick on him at school, and he always expected to be the loser in high school, and he was always right.

Things also had a way of taking him by surprise. Like when Mr Stark picking him up after school for ice cream because “he was in town”. Or when it seemed like a quiet night during patrol, and a gang of weaponised criminals robbed a bank. Or when Aunt May miraculously insisted on keeping the stray puppy that decided to follow him home after a communion of bacon and bread (‘look at it, Peter, IT’S EYES ARE SPEAKING TO ME’). Or when he was walking down the hallway and freaking Michelle Jones screamed “BABE!!” and flung herself at him, clinging to his neck like he was her last hope.

“Play along and I’ll make you cookies for a week,” she growled in his ear. “Don’t, and watch me make your life a living hell.”

The colour drained from his face, even as his heart hammered erratically in his chest. While the prospect of cookies was already a good enough incentive, the fear of making MJ his arch-nemesis was far more terrifying, so he didn’t even need a moment’s consideration before he nodded subtly. Seemingly satisfied, she released him and turned around.

“Sorry Jake,” she almost seemed apologetic. “I know what I promised, but I don’t think my boyfriend will be very happy if I don’t take him to prom.”

“Wha-prom??” Peter stuttered, clearly struggling to grasp the situation.

“I know,” MJ sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “But it was before us, I swear!”

“Um-”

“You goddamn bitch!” ‘Jake’ yelled, garnering unwanted attention from surrounding students. “You made a deal.”

Immediately, Peter went on the defensive.

“Whooaaah whoa whoa whoa,” Peter interjected, throwing his hands into the air as he instinctively moved between MJ and Gregor Clegane. “What’s going on?”

“Your girlfriend here promised that I could take her to Prom if I did our science project by myself,” he growled out in reply.

“That was last year!” MJ rolled her eyes.

“A deal is a deal, Jones,” he bit out. “Never took you for a liar.”

“Okay now listen here, Igor,” Peter stepped in.

“What the fuck did you call me?”

“I know you’re still hung up about things that happen in the past,” Peter continued, unperturbed. “But you need to move on if you want to grow! Mind you, you should actually stay off the steroids, it might be hurting your brain.”

“You little shit-”

“But one day I’m sure, Hodor, you’ll come to realise that there’s so much more to life than forcing dates out of pretty girls and bullying people smaller than you.”

“My fucking name’s Jake!!”

“That’s what I said, Wun Wun,” Peter rolled his eyes. “C’mon, stay with me here. I’m trying-”

-.-.-.-

“I don’t appreciate that you called him Wun Wun,” MJ grumbled as she joined him on the roof of her apartment with an ice pack. The sun was beginning to set, and the orange hues that bathed the city in gold were mesmerising. It was almost a safe spot for the two of them, where they sat above the city, and had some semblance of freedom from a world that perpetually pulled you down.

“What??” Peter exclaimed through a mouthful of cookies. “But he was being a dick!”

“I know, so don’t disrespect one of my favourite characters like that,” MJ smirked, (oh that wonderful terrible smirk).

Peter just grinned in response and accepted the ice pack, gingerly placing it on his bruised eye.

“Why didn’t you fight back anyways?” MJ grumbled as she sat next to him and hugged her knees. “You coulda trashed him - you’re fucking Spider-Man.”

“Language,” he warned.

“Okay Captain America,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re freaking Spider-Man. Better?”

“Much,” he grinned cheekily. They sat in a comfortable silence, impeded only by the crunching of the cookies and the distant New York traffic in the streets below them. There was a certain comfort that came with the dissonance of the city, a tiny reminder of life and activity, the promise of happiness and sadness and busyness and everything in between.

“I don’t know,” he said after a while, eyes staring off at the sky that was painted in blue and red and gold. “Probably for the same reason that I don’t fight back when Flash picks on me.”

MJ didn’t say anything, she knew he’d continue in his own time.

“It probably sounds stupid,” he mumbled, grabbing another cookie. “But I mean, fighting fire with fire doesn’t actually work. Nobody became a better person because they got beaten down by someone stronger than them. Most people become bullies after they got bullied anyways.”

MJ shifted to take a cookie as well.

“And anyways,” he took a gulp of milk (God Bless you MJ), “if they can’t pick on me, they’ll probably pick on someone who can’t take it, right?”

She didn’t answer, just reached over and took a sip of milk. And then she smiled at him.

It wasn’t a flirtatious smirk or an amused chuckle, just a very simple smile. A pleasantry that said she understood his words, and she appreciated them. A smile that meant so little and so much at the same time. And yet it melted his heart and he yearned to reach over and kiss those beautiful lips, to run his fingers through her gorgeous curls and pull her close to him.

But yet he couldn’t. She never had feelings for him, and she never would. They were best friends, and changing that could ruin everything.

This was fine. This was perfect, in fact. He didn’t need her to love him, as much as he wanted it. He could just love her with his whole heart, and stare at her beautiful face and watch her eyes sparkle with the reflection of the sun. He didn’t need to be happy – he just needed to be content.

“I love you for using Game of Thrones references, though,” she smirked, eyes still pointed to the sky.

And there she went, pulling his heartstrings with the greatest ease. And all he could do was smile back, while his chest ached and throbbed, hoping to the stars that one day, one wonderful and blissful day, she would say it while looking at him square in the eyes, and say it the way he would to her any day. One day.

“So,” he cleared his throat. “I guess we’re going to prom?”

Previous Chapter: Here

Next Chapter: Here

Masterlist: Here

Give me feedback and ideas! And hit me up on AO3!

Tags (because you guys are the reason I keep going):  @you-guys–are-losers @socially-ineptnerd @nerd-of-sorts @dej-okay @kage-e @goddess-of-silvers @awk0nduoma @gold165 @ryuity

[sunflowersandink]

Seasons

Part 1

Read on Ao3

Pairing: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson

Summary: In spring, the swallows come. Two days after Peter sees the first swallow of the year, he finds a plastic Easter egg on the ground. Inside is a grenade. 

Or: Peter and Wade, and the development of their relationship between one spring and the next.

Words: 2251

In spring, the swallows come.

The swallows, out of all the birds, are his favorites. Peter sees a lot of birds in his line of work, probably more than almost anyone else in the city. Even the bird watchers see them most often when they’re still.

But Peter gets to see them fly, and the swallows fly like they know exactly what a gift it is.

As far as he’s concerned, spring in New York City doesn’t really start until he’s seen one.

Two days after Peter sees the first swallow of the year, he finds an egg on the ground.

This is probably unrelated to the appearance of the swallow, as the hot-pink plastic-ness of the egg seems to indicate that a person, and neither bird nor reptile nor weird experimental mammal placed it there.

He picks it up tentatively, and isn’t it sad that his lifestyle has made him so suspicious of an innocent plastic Easter egg?

He cracks it open to find a grenade.

In the next instant he’s off the civilian-riddled street and on the roof of a nearby building, heart thudding furiously in his chest. He fumbles with the device, hands shaking slightly, and finds, to his great relief and slight confusion, that the grenade doesn’t appear to have been activated in any way. He webs it five times to a structurally unimportant part of the roof just in case.

He swings back down to land on a lightpost next to where he found it. To his dawning horror, he spots pastel colors dotted all down the street, stuck in the windshields of cars, balanced in the windows of businesses, and lying on the ground beneath trees and street lamps.

“Mommy, Mommy, look! The Easter Bunny came early! See? There’s an egg!”

Peter freezes, then twists on his perch, honing in on the voice. There’s a little girl with red pigtails bouncing up and down excitedly beside her mother, a yellow egg clutched in her small hand.

“No!” Peter yelps, flinging himself off the post and towards the girl. “No, no no no no, don’t touch that!” He yanks it out of her hand, backing away quickly. She stares up at him in shock. Tears fill her eyes, and her face scrunches up. “Oh, no no, don’t cry, it’s okay,” he says hastily, cupping his hands between her and the egg. “You just don’t want this egg is all, it’s full of…” he cracks it open, and stares. “...vegetables. It’s full of vegetables.” He does his best to hide the packet of M&M’s within his hand.

Her face lights up. “I like vegetables!” she chirps.

“Of course you do,” Peter mumbles. “I mean.. of course you do! Vegetables are awesome and you should eat them all the time, but, uh, not these ones, okay? They’re all...uh, mushy and gross.”

He spots a blue egg in the window of the salon behind them, and he lunges over to snatch it. This one appears to contain a AAA battery. He looks back up at the girl and her mother, who are watching him in confusion and alarm, respectively. “Just...uh, don’t pick up anymore Easter eggs, okay? Ask your mom to buy you some broccoli or something,” he backs away down the sidewalk, pointing at the mom. “Buy your kid some veggies! Don’t let her touch any strange eggs!”

He fashions himself a web bag, and sets off on an egg hunt.

Within a few minutes, he has a collection of twenty-three plastic Easter eggs of various sizes and colors in the bag. Their contents range from candy, to coins, to what seems to be the entire contents of someone’s junk drawer. Several contain five and ten dollar bills. One has a hundred dollar bill, and he takes careful note of every one that has money in it, just on the off chance that they aren’t somehow rigged to explode or poison him or turn into a robot that will cut his nose off while he sleeps.

The trail stops at the opening of an alley. In the middle of the alley is a black-and-red-clad figure with pink bunny ears, skipping cheerfully away.

“Here comes Pe-ter Cotton-Tail,” he sings brightly, a large basket swinging from his arm.

“Hey!” Peter calls after him.

Without missing a beat, he spins gracefully on his toes, and Peter abruptly has a gun pointed at his forehead. “Shoo-ting you in the fuck-ing skull!” He finishes to the same tune.

Peter yanks the gun out of his hand with a strand of webbing before the last note has even died off. The other man barely seems to notice. He claps gloved hands against his cheeks, staring at him with the comically large white eyes on his mask.

“Oh Em Gee, you’re Spider-Man!” He squeals.

Peter looks at the gun now in his hand, wrinkling his nose in distaste, and then back up at the other red-and-black suited person in the alley, a growing suspicion as to his identity forming. “You wouldn’t happen to be Deadpool by any chance, would you?”

Deadpool makes a sound like a tea kettle with some sort of factory error, and bounces up and down on the balls of his feet. “He knows our name!” he squeaks. He freezes. “Wait. Did you just happen to know it, or do you have psychic powers in this universe? Did you see it in my mind?”

Peter blinks. “No. I saw it in an Avengers briefing.”

Deadpool nods thoughtfully. “That’s not as cool, but still, adorable that they talk about me when I’m not around.”

“They said you’re an unstable menace and I should ‘take extreme caution and not approach unless absolutely necessary’,” he says, mimicking the Captain��s lecture voice.

“Ooh, a menace, huh?” Deadpool repeats in a high-pitched voice. “So what exactly brings you to approach lil ol’ menacing me today?”

Peter raises an eyebrow under his mask. “Seriously?” he holds up a plastic egg. “I’ve got like fifty of these. Easter isn’t even for another two weeks, man.”

“Aw, someone doesn’t have much Easter spirit!”

“You could’ve blown someone up!”

He cocks his head, looking genuinely bemused. “Sounds fun, but that’s really more of a Valentines’ Day sort of celebration, Baby Boy.”

“Then why leave an egg with a grenade in it lying in the street?”

Deadpool does a double take, feeling for his belt. “I did no such - oh.” he pulls a half-melted Hershey’s chocolate belt and two grenades out of a pouch. “Well that’s not right.”

“Okay. I’m confiscating your basket. Hand it over.”

He narrows his eyes, clutching his basket tighter. “You know I can just buy more Easter eggs.”

“And I can just confiscate those too. I’ve got a collection going.”

“Fine!” Deadpool huffs, shoving the basket at him.

Peter takes it gingerly, wary of more explosives. “Appreciate the cooperation.”

“So is Easter Grinch your usual job, or is this just a night job? Because the outfit definitely screams ‘night job’, and that is not an insult, baby boy.”

“First of all, it’s day, as you can tell from the giant ball of fire in the sky. Second, I don’t get paid for this, and third, this is the first time I’ve ever had to steal Easter eggs from anyone, so congrats on being unique,” Peter says, busy checking the eggs in the basket. Deciding that there’s nothing rigged to explode, he attaches a line of web to the roof above them, landing neatly on the edge.

“Hey, you know if you ever need money, I’ve got some ideas for things I could pay you for!” Deadpool shouts up at him.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that!” Peter calls back. “Besides, you couldn’t afford me!”

He’s gone before he hears if there’s a response.

…

The next time he sees Deadpool is in the beginning of May, and this time it’s not even Deadpool’s fault. It’s the guy’s who thought it would be funny to release approximately fifty bajillion weird fuzzy caterpillar things the size of cats around the city.

As far as supervillain schemes goes, it’s really more on the ‘inconvenience’ side of things, rather than the ‘what kind of person does this shit’, so that makes it a pretty good day in Peter’s book. The Avengers are even here! Which probably just means they happened to have nothing better to do, but still.

Peter has three of the squirmy bundles of white fluff in his arms, and is busy trying to fish a fourth out from under a car when a pair of red-and-black booted feet appear in front of him. He looks up from where he’s laying on his stomach to see the merc watching him, head cocked, stroking a large caterpillar that’s curled comfortably in his arms.

“That looks uncomfortable,” he says cheerilly.

“How observant,” Peter snaps. “Want to help me out here?”

“Ooo, Baby Boy, there’s all sorts of things I’d be willing to help you out with,” he wiggles his eyebrows meaningfully.

“Like getting a giant bug out from under this car?” he asks, deciding the best way to deal with the innuendo was just to ignore it.

“Mm. Kinky.” Deadpool kneels down beside him. “Why don’t you just use your webbing to pull it out?”

Peter readjusts his grip on the three he’s holding, tugging one back from where it’s trying to crawl over his shoulder. He shuffles around to the other side of the car. “It sticks to their fur. Hair? I don’t know. Anyway, I don’t have time to cut it free and I don’t want to hurt them by just yanking it off.” With a quick lunge, he finally manages to grab the bug before it can inch away from him. “Nevermind, got it.” He stands, tucking the new addition into his armful of fluff. He nods with his chin towards the one in Deadpool’s arms. “Here, give me that one, I’ll take them to where we’re rounding the others up.”

Deadpool narrows his eyes, hugging it protectively to his chest. “Excuse you, ‘that one’ has a name. Her name is Beatrice, and I’ll have you know she is a purebred!” He says haughtily.

Peter raises an eyebrow. “A purebred what?”

Deadpool looks at Beatrice in silence for a second. “Bug,” he declares, with a confident nod.

Peter firmly resists the urge to be at all amused. “I mean. You’re probably right.”

“Hey, Spidey!” a voice calls behind him. He turns to find Hawkeye, staring warily past him at Deadpool, one hand on his bow. “You okay?”

Peter stares at him, puzzled. “What else would I be? They’re caterpillars, Clint, they don’t even bite.”

Clint’s eyes dart to Peter with that look he always gives him, which means ‘now is not the time for your bullshit, kid’, which is just plain insulting. Seriously, he’s fought with the Avengers before, are they really going to get all fussy about some harmless little bugs? He’s Spider-Man, for God’s sake. They should be his specialty.

He’s just beginning to work himself into serious irritation when Deadpool speaks up cheerfully behind him. “Nah, I don’t think it’s the fuzzy-wuzzy bugs he’s worried about. Or at least, not the miniature ones.”

Peter turns back to ask what he’s talking about, and finally picks up on the edge under his cheerful tone.

Ah. Right. The deadly merc with a mouth. Who he was warned not to interact with. Clint steps forward, hand tightening slightly on his bow, and beckons Peter forward, as though he’s a small child who’s wandered too close to the tiger cage at the zoo. “Come on, SHIELD’s pretty much got this under control.”

Peter looks at Deadpool, who’s standing stiffly, still clutching Beatrice. The moment he notices Peter watching him, he appears to relax. Appears. Peter knows what calculated relaxation looks like.

“Aw man, I would love to come with you guys, but my evening is completely booked right now.” He saunters casually backwards, towards the entrance of a nearby alley. “But you fellas enjoy the after party! I know, I know, it’s not as much fun without me, but you’ll survive.” And with that, he’s gone, without giving either Peter or Clint a chance to respond.

Clint sets off down the street towards the containment cage SHIELD set up, and Peter hurriedly falls into step beside him. “He wasn’t actually doing anything, just being...weird,” he tells Clint, not entirely sure why he’s defending Deadpool to him, for some reason feeling he should.

Clint stops abruptly, and Peter almost stumbles in surprise. He looks Peter in the eye, as best he can through the mask. “Look kid, you’ve got a good heart, it’s what makes you a good hero. But Deadpool? He doesn’t. He’ll kill you the second someone pays him enough to cover the cost of the bullet, and he won’t think twice about it. He might not be a villain you need to fight, but he’s damn well not someone you should be spending time with,” he says firmly.

Peter fidgets, adjusting the caterpillars in his arms. “What are you, my dad?” he mumbles.

Clint grins, the tension broken. “Don’t let Stark hear you say that.”

Peter laughs, and they start off again, their conversation reverting back to its usual casual chatter.

But something keeps niggling at the back of his mind.

For all the warnings people keep giving him, his spidey sense never so much as hummed around the merc, not once.

[alolowrites]

Victory on Roosevelt Avenue

I recently got inspired to write some fanfic again and I really wanted to do something with the World Cup and Peter Parker hahaha. This story was just inching to get itself written and I obviously caved in. It is my first story after a few years of not writing so sorry in advance if there are some mistakes. I promise to edit this once I have some free time! I just really wanted to post the story. 

Some key points: The story is written from the reader’s POV (I think I somewhat failed at this, so sorry again) and it is a Mexican!reader (female, sorry if I didn’t make it gender neutral!). The story is a bit AU since I completely ignored anything/everything that has to do with Infinity War (Thanos doesn’t exist, no one disappeared, Earth is safe, yadda yadda yadda). I just needed Peter to be alive for the World Cup okay? I think that’s about it. I hope you all enjoy the story! 

It’s around 10:35am on this fine Sunday morning, but you know why this particular Sunday is extremely special. Not only is it Father’s Day, but today is Mexico’s first match in the 2018 World Cup and the long strip of Roosevelt Avenue in Queens is very much alive and bursting with excitement. Last week, you invited Peter at school if he wanted to join you and your family in watching the upcoming game. Being the good boyfriend he is, Peter gladly agreed (especially since he could never say no to you).    

Yesterday you texted him the station where you two will meet and from there walk to the restaurant together. You were too busy checking your phone that Peter easily sneaks up behind you and plants a surprise kiss on your cheek.

You jump and turn around, but your shoulders relax when you see your lovely boyfriend with his famous brown locks. “Peter! You made it!”

“Did you think I wasn’t going to come? I’m offended,” Peter playful scoffs as he places his left hand over his heart. You roll your eyes, but chuckle before giving him a quick kiss on his lips. “So where are going?”

“To this restaurant called Taqueria Coatzingo. One of the best Mexican restaurants in Jackson Heights!” You explain as you hold his right hand and lead the way down the street. “I told my parents I would meet them there a few minutes before the game starts because I was waiting for you. You’re going to love the food, Peter! The make these incredible classic dishes like carne asada tacos, bistec a la Mexicana, or if you’re feeling quite adventurous: carnitas en salsa verde o roja, but whatever you choose, I promise you it will be a party in your mouth.”

The sixteen year old superhero rubs his stomach. “That all sounds delicious. Maybe I’ll take some food back for Aunt May. I’m sure she would love it.”

As you chattered away about the World Cup, Peter’s eyes glances around the vibrant avenue and is overwhelm over the happy chaos he sees. There were fans wearing bold, colorful outfits that embodied the Mexican flag. Some had luchador masks over their faces, others sporting large sombreros with comfortable ponchos. Peter even notices a man dressed up in a costume full of feathers with the face of an eagle perched on his head.

He turns his attention to you and sees the Mexican jersey you were proudly wearing. Peter then looks at himself and realizes how underdressed he felt: a boring blue button up shirt and denim jeans. He purses his lips and chastises himself for not putting more effort. He could have at least worn something green or red.

He feels so out of place.

Peter soon calls your name, interrupting your talk, and you hum while looking at him. Your eyes narrow as his face grows uncomfortable and his gaze falls to the ground. You also feel his hand tighten around its hold and realize something was wrong with him.

“Are you okay, Peter?”

His head snaps back up and begins to furiously nod. “Oh-h, yeah! I’m fine! Really!”

“Peter…I know when you’re lying,” you scold at him and gently tug his right hand. You stop walking and stand in front of him without losing your grip. Your other hand reaches out to caress his smooth, pale cheek and you brush a few of his curls away from his forehead. Peter sighs at your therapeutic touches, but he remains stressed. You place one finger underneath his chin and raise it so you were staring directly into his chocolatey, doe-like, eyes.

“What’s the matter? I know something is bothering you.”

“I’m just nervous,” he mumbles and you tilt your head in confusion. Peter glances behind your shoulder, the sea of green shirts waving in the distance. His ears pick up the boastful chants coming from the massive crowd and the Mexican music booming from nearby speakers.

“What do you mean?”

His eyes return their attention to you. “I honestly don’t know too much about the World Cup, and I am afraid I might say or do something so stupid that could end up offending your people. Plus, I’m not even dressed properly and it makes me stick out like a sore thumb. I could have at least worn the colors of your flag, but I guess I forgot. Besides: it’s Father’s Day! I feel like I’m intruding on this special day for you and your family!”

You quickly blink and laugh heartily, gripping his left shoulder. “Oh, Peter! Is that what you’re really worried about? If I’m being honest, I don’t follow too much about soccer except for the World Cup games. No matter how many times my dad or uncles try to explain the technicalities of the game, I still end up being confused.

“As for Father’s Day,” you continue, giving Peter’s hand a soft squeeze, “it’s no big deal that you’re here. My mom and dad are more than happy enough to welcome you into our festivities! If anything, they asked me to invite you because they know you’re a good person who makes me happy.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You have nothing to worry about, trust me,” you reassure him with a brief peck on his lips. Peter smiles softly as he bends his head down to kiss you again. You close the space and snake your arms around neck as his own circles on your waist. The wolf-whistles from across the street break the romantic moment and you pull yourself away from Peter to annoyingly wave off the bystanders laughing. A chuckle rumbles through your chest as you see Peter’s face beat red. “Ignore them, they’re probably drunk already.”

“But it’s almost eleven!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like that will stop them from not drinking their beer.”

Both of you share a laugh and you pat his bicep. “Listen, if you are still worried about saying something ‘wrong,’” you air-quote the last word with your fingers, “then let me just give you some advice. Number one: if you can, use the word fútbol instead of soccer in your conversation. You’ll get brownie points and earn a level of respect from a few fans in the crowd, but if ‘soccer’ slips from your lips, it’s fine. You’ll probably get a pass because, well,” you lower your voice to a whisper, “you’re white.”

Peter shrugs in understanding and you hold up two fingers. “Number two: when watching the game, don’t sweat if you’re lost. A lot happens within two 45-minute matches and if the game is extremely intense, like this one that we’re about to watch, then the excitement level from the crowd exponentially goes up. For your sake, just cheer loudly with everyone else when Mexico scores a goal. Can’t go wrong celebrating a goal for the Mexican team!”

You hold up three fingers. “Lastly, just relax and have fun. Don’t worry about not wearing the Mexican colors. Just being here shows support and earns a stamp of approval from my people. One of the things that I love most about the World Cup is that it is a sport that is universal. No matter what country you’re from, what language you speak or what color your skin is—everyone can sit and watch the games together which creates a sense of global connectedness.”  

“Wow,” Peter breaths out in astonishment and you giggle at his reaction. “Now I’m kinda embarrassed to not really appreciate the World Cup before. But I feel much better now.”

“Good,” you happily beam and gave a quick kiss on his lips again. “Now lets head to the restaurant before the game starts. I don’t want to miss a second of this match!”

The two of you run down the street and enter the lively restaurant overflowing with hundreds of fans. And true to your word, Peter relishes every single minute of the game. When Mexico scores their first goal, the whole place erupts in jubilation. You jump from your seat and tightly hug Peter, almost knocking him off his chair. He’s never seen you so emotionally invested before: cheering and clapping hard when a Mexican player runs across the field to make a goal or cursing and raising your hands in the air in exasperation when something horrible happens. The atmosphere of the restaurant certainly fuels how the crowd behaves and he found himself anxiously clutching his cup a few times throughout the game.

Once the final whistle blows through the speakers, officially ending the match, Peter swears he feels the ground shake as hundreds of people start celebrating the team’s historic victory. Basking in the euphoria after Mexico’s glorious win against the reigning champions, Germany, you tell Peter you were going to get some more water from the counter. He nods and, while grinning, starts to record a video of some Mexican fans singing Cielito Lindo at the top of their lungs. As you make your way back to your table, you notice your uncle gleefully pat Peter’s shoulders, but then the smirk on your face falls as you see the older man shove a certain drink into your boyfriend’s hand…  

“Oh my gosh, Tío!” You scream over the chants. “No le das una Corona a Peter! Él es menor de edad!”

Translation: “No le das una Corona a Peter! Él es menor de edad!” / “Don’t give Peter a Corona! He is underaged!” 

[j0ebay]

Spiraling Ch 8

Warning(s): swearing, moderate angst, some fluff

Word Count: 2153

A/N:I’m really stoked this chapter is finally out so enjoy and feedback is deeply appreciated!! 💙💙

series masterlist

add yourself to my taglist!!

chapter 7      chapter 9

“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams” -Dr. Seuss

Friday morning was painfully long for Peter. Hours didn’t seem like minutes to him, but days as he kept his head down and avoided talking to anyone and everyone. All he wanted to do was be by her side, be with her when she wakes up, help her fight through unconsciousness.

Tony made sure to update Peter every hour, even if there wasn’t much to say. He stayed by his unconscious niece, sometimes holding a mirror under her nose to ensure she’s still breathing. He brushes the hair out of her face and flashes a sad smile. He knew she was only trying to help but he couldn’t help but become aggravated about the whole situation.

He turns his head away, not being able to see Geneva like this. Tony didn’t see her eyes flutter open, or her hands squeeze the blanket once all the memories of the previous night race back.

“I’m really sorry, Uncle Tony”

Tony’s head whips back to see Geneva, awake, laying there. His muscles react before he has any thoughts and instantly pulls her in for a hug.

“It’s okay, kid. I’m not mad. You scared the living shit outta me”

Peter looked at the clock for the 8th time in 3 minutes. 1:48. Just a few more minutes. He sat in Spanish class just waiting, thinking back to all the memories they shared.

“What do you mean you’ve never seen Brooklyn Nine-Nine before?” She asks, eyes widened in disbelief. They had been dating for a month and a half and were gearing up to have a marathon night at his house. She sat on his living room couch while he was standing, putting all the snacks on the coffee table in front of them.

“I dunno. I just- I haven’t gotten around to it. That’s all.”

He plops himself down next to her and she curls into his side, grabbing onto his arm and looking up at him with a playful smirk.

“Yeah, with you being Spiderman and all”

“Shhhh, May’s gonna hear you!”

She lets out a soft giggle, covering her mouth with her sweatshirt-covered hand

“Relax, Pete. You know I’m kidding.”

She lightly squeezes his bicep as her gaze turns towards the TV, now playing the opening credits to Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

“You are being safe though. Right?”

She looks up at him with eyes, wide with a hint of fear. He tightens his arm around her, pulling her closer to him.

“Of course I do. I mean, May would kill me if I died again and now,” he pauses and squeezes her shoulder.

“I have a beautiful girlfriend to come back to and she’s amazing and supportive and I’m so lucky to have her.”

She buries her face in the crook of his neck to hide her blush, as per usual and he laughs. She reaches up and lightly pecks his cheek before turning her head back to the TV.

However, his eyes are still trained on her. How her hair falls perfectly on her shoulder, how the shades of blue in her eyes is brought out by the light of the tv and how content she looked whenever she’s around him

“Is that my sweatshirt?” Peter blurts out.

She looks up at him and her lips curl into a smile.

“Maybe” She mumbles, being sure to drag out the ’a’.

All he can do is laugh and shake his head.

“You’re adorable” He mumbles into her hair before pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of his phone buzzing on his desk

Tony Stark Hey kid I said I’d tell you when she wakes up and she did about 5 minutes ago… She’s a little fuzzy as expected and we’re all a little shaken up but she’s fine with you staying the weekend. Well in her words “I really need to see him and i honestly don’t give two shits if anyone gives us crap I just need to be around him”. You did good kid

Peter lets out a sigh of relief and cracks a smile. His phone buzzes again

Geneva Stark✨ Hey you! Don’t worry about me cause I’m good, I’m awake now. So focus on your Spanish cause I’m fine. Well, Tony and literally everyone else won’t let me leave my bed and I’m starting to doubt my legs functioning once I do end up walking around but IT DOESN’T MATTER CAUSE I’M OKAY!!! I can’t wait to see you! ❤❤

Peter texts her back first

Peter Parker🕷 Glad to hear you’re awake! You had all of us so worried! As far as you staying in bed, I have to say I agree with Tony and everyone else on this one 🤨 I can’t wait to see you as well and I’m so ready to be the overprotective boyfriend and take care of you! See you later Gee ❤

And then texting Tony

Peter Parker Thanks for keeping me posted Mr.Stark you have no idea how much this means to me. Aunt May said it was cool if I stay with you guys this weekend if it’s okay with you so I guess you’re putting up with Gee and I in “teen rom com mode” for the weekend sorry.

Geneva smiles at her phone screen and types back a quick response

Geneva Stark✨ Sometimes I lay awake at night and think to myself “wow, my boyfriend will stop at literally nothing to make my uncle happy it’s almost scary. I wonder if that’s the real reason he’s dating me?”

Her phone buzzes immediately

Peter Parker🕷 That’s only 95% true and you know it

She lets out a chuckle, wincing in pain and clutching her rib cage. The image of her crashing to the ground flashes in her mind, along with the memory of Peter she took from Tony. Tears escape her eyes at the mere words echoing in her mind

“I don’t wanna go”

Geneva hears someone enter the room and quickly wipes the tears away. She looks up and sees Loki there with a hurt and remorseful look on his face as he realizes that he’s ultimately powerless in this situation.

“Stop being all depressing ‘n shit” she mumbles.

“I’m fine, really”

“Geneva,”

“Loki, I swear to you I’m fine”

“Really? Cause people who are fine don’t cry”

Gee can’t say anything to counter that, she just sits there with her mouth agape. Loki sits next to her on the bed.

“I brought you some tea”

She gives a sad smile and sips it with shaky hands.

“I’m afraid my limbs are still trying to figure out how to work”

They both smile before she says

“Before you ask, I was just worried about Peter. I’m scared it’s gonna really hurt him seeing me like this and knowing him, he’s probably gonna start blaming himself and I don’t wanna put him through that”

She feels the tears flow down her cheeks and her chest start to tighten.

“Hey, hey, hey Geneva look at me.”

She slowly looks up at him.

“It might sting a little for him cause it did for us-”

She puts a hand up to her mouth

“-Oh god what did I do?” She sobs even more

“Hey, Geneva you know what? We all know you were doing the right thing in your mind. You just gave us a little scare, that’s all”

“Oh my god I look like a mess” She says laughing a bit, while letting out a yawn

“Get some sleep, Gee” he says.

She nods while closing her eyes and Loki slowly gets up and walks out.

The elevator brings Peter up to the living space of Avengers tower as slowly as possible it seems. Once he gets to their floor, he sees Tony and drops his bag on a barstool.

“She’s in her room, kid. Just a fair warning, she’s still a little fuzzy on some stuff and she’s been sleeping a lot but other than that she’s been talking about you since she woke up”

Peter gives a soft smile before walking down the hallway to her room and lightly knocking on her door. When there was no response, worry started to grow in the pit of his stomach. He opens the door to see her, fast asleep with puffy eyes. He could’ve sworn he felt his heart break into a million pieces but still, he sat down on her bed and lightly brushed some stray hairs away from her face.

Geneva’s eyes flutter open and she sees Peter sitting above her.

“Hey, beautiful”

She looks away and smiles

“Hey, you. What time is it?”

Peter looks at his phone

“About 3ish”

She nods.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, carefully holding onto her hand and she lets out a light chuckle.

“I haven’t really seen myself and I know I probably look like complete and utter garbage right now but if I told you it’s not as bad as it looks, would that make you feel better?”

Peter cracks a sad smile.

“How bad is it?”

“Nothing terrible, I’m just pretty weak from being in bed all day and my limbs kinda feel like cotton candy right now cause I fainted, but other than that, my throat hurts a little bit but that’s it. I’m fine, really”

She squeezes his hand for reassurance.

“I have a surprise for you” he says.

She raises her eyebrows as he gets up and goes to the corner of her room, picking up a plastic bag and pulling out the items. Geneva loudly gasps.

“YOU BOUGHT ME CREAM SODA AND SOUR GUMMY WORMS?”

He laughs at her excitement and nods.

“How did you know?” She asks with eyes wide with excitement.

“Remember that one time I skipped school to walk you home and we stopped at that gas station? Maggie says she wants you to make a speedy recovery. She needs your big presence of light and energy around there”

Geneva laughs again and clutches her ribs and after seeing a puzzled expression on Peter’s face, says

“I fell on my side”

His eyebrows furrow and he grabs her hand again.

“What happened anyway?”

Gee sighs.

“So when I was five and I was discovering my abilities and stuff, I found out that along with moving things and reading people’s minds, I could also take away people’s memories if I really wanted to. So one night, I was woken up by my foster brother having some form of nightmare. So I took that memory out of him, ended up discovering that after doing that kind of thing, it would drain me so much that I would faint, scaring the hell out of my foster parents and eventually getting myself kicked out of the best foster home I would ever have. You ever read The Giver? It’s kinda like that.”

“Gee,” Peter starts.

“So,” she continues

“I get up from my couch to get some tea and see feel Tony in some kind of bad dream or I guess flashback or something and I do the same thing. I was only out for a few hours though, the first time it was like half a day or something like that.”

“Geneva, why?” “I thought it would help okay? I hate seeing people hurt and knowing I could do something to stop it.”

Peter lets out a heavy sigh. She was so heartless and that’s one of the many things he adored about her.

“What was the flashback you took? Just out of curiosity?”

Geneva tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat while looking away to try and hide the tears forming in her eyes.

“Hey,” Peter says putting his hand on her cheek and turning her head to face him.

“Look at me. Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you. It was the past and everything’s okay now alright?” She nods, tears streaming down her face

“It was awful, Pete.”

He wipes her tears away with his thumbs.

“It can’t get to you. It’s gone now.”

After describing the new memory to Peter, all he could do is hold her while she cried.

“I’m not going anywhere, Gee. You got that? It’s not gonna happen again. I promise. You know I’m being safe when I’m doing patrols and when I’m fighting people like that? I have you in mind and not only does that make me fight extra hard but it also reminds me to be extra careful because I have more people waiting for me to get back alright?”

She nods and mumbles

“You’re amazing you know that?”

He leans in and presses a kiss to her lips

“I know, beautiful.”

He slides into bed next to her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close to him.

“Let’s watch something yeah?” Peter smiles down at her.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

TAGLIST

EVERYTHING: @og-baby-ob14 @were-all-gay-down-here @softiespidey @saturn-aka-six @theasexualbunny

SPIRALING: @upsidedownparker @baglebites @spidergirl192327@nerdofthehighestcalibre @james1730