#we’re inside his head as he tries to convince both Pete and himself of this huge huge lie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

monster-cock69 · 1 year

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blue light, sleep tight

Moodboard made by @starkerkitty and AO3 link here for @khalixascorner's birthday

Pairings: Peter Parker and Tony Stark

Tags: Omegaverse, irondad, platonic

Warnings: None

It felt like a fucking Lifetime movie.

There was a storm raging outside and the little boy – his little pup – was sitting on a hard plastic chair crying and clutching a stuffed Hulk toy like a lifeline.

Little Peter Parker smelled like he was fresh from a war documentary, distressed and begging for his mom to scent him and scream it’s going to be okay until it was.

It wasn’t though.

Mary wouldn’t be returning from the car crash, Richard would never hug him again, and Tony was all the pup had.

It felt like he’d forgotten how his signature was supposed to look for a second. He wanted to run away screaming and drown himself in a bottle.

The drunken night he’d spent with Mary was one he barely remembered. She’d been trying to convince him to fund something and he’d been horny enough to indulge.

The following day, the check he’d jokingly written was gone and the sheets were cold.

Now there were paternity tests and custody papers. His lawyers were all stiff and the social worker was practically shitting herself from nerves.

“Alright, Pete. Dinner and a movie tonight sound good?” The poor thing didn’t even look up from his shoes. Lifting him onto his hip was easy enough. Peter just pressed his face into his neck and took in greedy lungfuls.

A dark part of Tony hoped that he smelled better to the boy than any of his beta parents had. If he was going to do this then he’d damn sure be the best at it.

So much was running through his head, protective instincts raging at him that this pup needed food and comfort and to be scented and a nest and–

Peter screamed the entire car ride. Tony couldn’t console him with soft shakes of his leg or the song his favorite nanny sang to him. The pup just wailed into his neck in a wordless cry for help that he couldn’t express any other way.

It didn’t stop until Peter ran out of energy and fell asleep in the car. Traffic was characteristically bad for a Friday night getting into Manhattan. It meant that his arm fell asleep halfway through what was only supposed to be a half-hour drive.

Each time Tony tried to put him down, Peter started grumbling. It left him awkwardly half-slouching with Peter almost hanging between his thighs.

Putting him down once they got inside didn’t seem to be an option either. Peter started with those I’ll cry and you’ll regret it noises, so they wound up clutching each other on the sofa.

He fell asleep like that, distantly vowing that they’d have a better morning.

Then Peter woke both of them by peeing on his lap.

Red puffy eyes were already tearing up again. Tony’s soft “I’ll get you clean, I’ll get you clean,” was more for himself than the boy. Stripping him down was weird but necessary. It was like he was intruding on Peter and he had no clue how he’d wash him without feeling like a pedophile.

To make things worse, he was flailing so hard that Tony was scared he’d grab him too tightly and leave bruises.

“Pete– okay, you gotta get– fuck it” getting dropped in the warm water JARVIS had filled the tub with shocked Peter into silence.

Splashing water gently on his face made him laugh. It was a quiet, perfect little sound that Tony wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

“I got you something for next time, you’ll like it. We’re gonna be alright Petey. I promise.”

~~~~

Life continued on like that for some time.

Peter would wake up crying because of a wet pull-up, cling to him like a second skin, and only eat small bits of food at a time. Usually, he’d fall asleep curled up against Tony with his face pressed to his neck. It didn’t leave him with much time for anything else but he’d have JARVIS read some parenting books to him.

He had no fucking clue what to do.

Sometimes, he’d see little bits of personality shine through. Peter would request that they watch Star Wars or insist on a certain shape of waffles. It grew more frequent as the weeks passed.

Even with JARVIS as a filter, there was too much shitty information on raising omegas. Most people suggest he brush the crying and clinginess off as omega hysterics, a few called him a pervert for wanting to parent an omega alone.

Finding him a reputable therapist was the best decision he’d made.

Peter started sleeping in his own bed during his after lunch naps, and once Tony figured out how to do it, he’d always let out a low rumble in response to Peter’s whines. He even started speaking better, something the therapist said had probably been stunted by the sudden trauma.

The others were all surprisingly understanding when it came to him. It wasn’t recommended that he spend too long with adults just yet – even with the team’s half-formed pack bonds – the two of them needed to form a proper scent bond first. So, they’d been keeping their distance and sending up lightly scented toys or blankets.

His only issue now was that he was going crazy.

Bringing Peter to the lab wasn’t an option because the boy liked to touch everything he saw, and Peter would wake up every time Tony moved in his sleep too much.

That part might be even weirder.

He hadn’t shared a bed with someone for more than a few nights in a row without being drunk since Pepper, and even that hadn’t lasted so long.

There were smaller things he was starting to miss too, like shitting without Peter trying to crawl into his lap or spending a day without toddler spit on him.

Putting Peter in a high chair and sticking to finger foods worked a little.

“Peter fries are food not–” a french fry to the face interrupted him and made him rethink his fondness for Peter’s high chair.

“You eat”

“I am, I have my own fries and I don’t want you to throw yours at me. Would you like it if I threw mine at you?”

And really, Tony should have known better than to question his kid like that. Peter just nodded so hard that it must have hurt his head.

He wouldn’t admit to throwing a french fry at his toddler, but he’d admit that good moments like this helped him feel a little less crazy.

Enough food made its way into Peter’s mouth to satisfy Tony. The dreaded appearance of baby wipes took the smile off his face, but Tony managed to give them both a good enough wipe-down.

After watching Bluey and drinking a cup of apple juice on the couch, Peter was tired enough that Tony put him in his own bed for the first time.

There’d been more smiles than tears recently, so he hoped that they’d have progress on that front.

~~~~

Peter liked his new friend Tony. He smelled good and Peter didn’t need a night light when they cuddled at night. He also looked a lot like Iron Man.

Waking up by himself in a small bed was weird. There was a small night light in the corner, but it was yellow instead of the blue he’d gotten used to.

“Jay?” He whispered, trying to get the attention of his other new friend.

“Yes, Peter? Would you like me to wake up Mr. Stark?”

Peter picked at a thread on his blanket, not sure what to say. Tony was always saying that Peter needed to sleep, but he wasn’t sure if that meant Tony needed to sleep or not too.

He’d been told that he’d be seeing Tony’s friends from downstairs in the morning though, so he guessed it was already time for that since he was awake.

“Tony’s friends?”

JARVIS took a second to answer before telling him that two of Tony’s friends from downstairs were awake and instructing him to get into the elevator.

When he got there, two big guys were waiting for him. He couldn’t scent them properly without getting closer but the blond one smelled like an omega and the one with the shiny arm smelled like an alpha.

The blond one that looked kinda like Captain America came toward him first. He knelt in front of Peter and held his hands out so Peter could see they were empty.

“Hi Peter, my name’s Steve. Is your dad asleep upstairs?”

Peter felt his eyebrows draw together. The last time he’d seen his daddy was when he and mommy were in those weird bed things, so why would he be upstairs? Was Steve asking about his friend Tony?

“My friend Tony?”

“Yeah, is he asleep?” Peter just blinked at him. Of course Tony was asleep, he always slept at night time.

“I’m hungry, do you have french fries?”

Steve blinked at him and smelled a little surprised, “I’m sure Buck can make you some, let’s have a seat over here.”

He was led to a breakfast bar like the one Tony had upstairs and Steve picked him up to seat him at one of the tall chairs.

The alpha with the shiny arm started pulling some things out of the fridge and began cooking. Peter was watching the way that the window light seemed to make his arm look even shinier.

He wondered if he’d be able to make magnets stick to his arm. It looked like a fridge, and you could stick magnets on those.

“Steve,” he whispered to his new friend, leaning closer so he’d hear, “I could put magnets on him?”

“Do you have any magnets now?” Steve whispered back, looking between him and the alpha.

Peter shook his head, he hadn’t had any magnets since he’d come to Tony’s house.

“I’ll get some magnets for you tomorrow and you ask him if you can put them on him. That sound like a good plan to you?” Peter nodded his head and Steve walked away to get him water.

The cup Steve got him was heavy and the water kept spilling on his lap, but no one seemed to mind.

When his french fries were done cooking, the man with the shiny arm introduced himself as Bucky. Neither of his new friends ate with him, but they all talked while he ate.

By the time that Tony got there, looking like he’d just

“Holy shit Pete, why’d you leave?”

“Woke up,” he explained before swallowing.

“Well, why’d you wake up? Is there something wrong with your bed?”

Peter nodded as he reached for the heavy glass of water.

“Is it not comfortable?”

“I like the blue light,” he turned to Steve, “can I have more water please?”

Steve went to refill his water while Bucky laughed at Tony. After Bucky stopped laughing, the adults started talking. He kept quiet, used to adults talking around him, and leaned into Tony while he finished his water. Bucky and Steve both smelled nice but Tony’s scent was his favorite.

He fell asleep while they were still talking, only waking up a bit to notice Tony putting him down in the big bed.

Tony held him tight against the bright blue nightlight in his chest until Peter fell back to sleep.

~~~~

Peter was progressing beautifully. He got piggyback rides from Clint, mani-pedis with Nat, and put magnets on Bucky’s arm. There was a rambunctiousness to him that shone in the way he’d run and shriek with laughter every time Bucky pretended to chase him or in the way he jumped onto the sofas before bath time.

There was also something else there, some kind of spark that Tony couldn’t identify. He saw it when he and Bruce did dumbed-down experiments with Peter, or when he let the pup touch the suits.

The therapist was urging him to start sending Peter to school, but Tony selfishly wanted to keep him at home a little longer. He didn’t seem to miss pre-k 3 and Tony took it as a sign that pre-k four was optional. Peter wouldn’t have to start school until kindergarten – and that would only be if Tony couldn’t find him a tutor. There was no need for his pup to be out in the world.

It seemed though, that the lovely therapist he’d hired was as stubborn as he was. She put her foot down on the idea of keeping him home and made Tony put him in a playgroup. It meant that Peter’s existence would need to be announced.

Pepper had a field day dealing with the PR team, but they managed to get it announced without making Tony step in.

Questions about the distant future of Stark Industries arose since omegas couldn’t inherit property above a certain value. Pepper rebuffed them on his behalf and the lawyers drafted NDAs for the parents and nannies of Peter’s future playmates.

Tony had to sign a few himself since the other children were also pretty high profile.

Peter was predictably excited, but most of the adults there were nannies and Tony was the only alpha.

Also, Johnny Storm’s kid kept melting the legos.

~~~~

In true Stark fashion, the first time Peter met Rhodey he was trying to get him into trouble.

Running away dripping wet and naked at three wasn’t quite as bad as lying in bed crying with alcohol poisoning at fifteen, but Tony appreciated the similarity.

Rhodey picked up the squirming pup with a firm grip around his ribs and Tony wrapped him up in an appropriately themed turkey towel.

None of them put stock into Thanksgiving, which made it a good day to head upstate for a little family owned farm that was more than glad to host them.

“Peter, if you want to go get the apples and tree you have to wear clothes.”

He sighed and flopped himself backward into Tony, making both alphas scramble to keep a good hold on him. It was probably too early to bathe him but baby wipes could only do so much against orange juice to the hair.

Another reminder of their plans had Peter succumbing to his fate of thick sweats and a warm sweater. Rhodey carried him to the elevator while Tony grabbed their coats.

“I’m gonna get apples from the tree,” he heard Peter proudly tell Rhodey.

The duo went back and forth excitedly. Peter was glad to have a new friend and Rhodey was eager to gently pry out every detail about him possible.

Steve had decided they weren’t allowed to take the easy way out and fly upstate. They packed themselves into cars aside from Bucky and Steve who were taking the pickup he’d gotten just for this.

Peter was stuffed into his car seat and given one of his newer stuffed toys.

They had a four hour drive ahead of them, made quicker by Peter’s excited narrations of the scenery.

An hour or so in, Peter’s words had longer pauses between them. He fell asleep while explaining how trees lived in the forest with bears and wolves.

They pitched their voices lower once they noticed, both unwilling to have a cranky toddler on their hands.

He didn’t sleep long. Just after they’d gotten over the Bronx border, Peter woke up demanding juice.

Passing a juice box back between the seats felt more natural than he’d have thought it would. When it came to Peter things had fallen into place so innately that Tony didn’t want to imagine what he’d be doing without him. Instinct wasn’t his guiding factor anymore. They had gotten to know each other well enough that Peter hardly ever looked unsteady around him anymore.

Miraculously, Peter didn’t squeeze it too hard and send juice everywhere. He drank slowly while looking at the scenery.

Five or so minutes later when they were ten minutes away from the nearest rest stop Peter started squirming in his seat and quietly let them know that he wasn’t able to hold his pee.

Tony had to pull over and Rhodey suggested that they open both the passenger door and Peter’s door so they’d have more cover.

Everyone passing would know what was happening but they were more concerned with someone trying to get a peep at little Stark’s crotch.

“Not the grass, the potty.” His pup was pouting, looking disdainfully at the patchy grass before him.

“You said you had to go now, and you’re not wearing a pull-up. Gotta use the grass, Pete.”

Peter huffed in indignation but eventually pulled down his bottoms. Tony had to help him aim, and Rhodey pretended he wasn’t laughing for Peter’s sake.

Baby wipes were passed around again and they were all packed back into the car.

Peter went back to sleep and slept until Tony had to gently tug him out of his car seat.

The mid-morning sun was mercifully warm enough for Peter to run between rows of apple trees. Someone had come to clean the rotting ones off the floor before they’d arrived.

Cutting down one of the huge Christmas trees would be last on their list.

They took turns helping Peter reach the branches where the apples hung. Bucky put him on his shoulders and walked around slowly. Peter would fist leaves in his hands rather than find apples for the most part – a lot of them ended up in Bucky’s hair.

He didn’t tire out as quickly as Tony thought he would have. He was too excited to see everything around him and touch whatever he landed his eyes on. They amassed heavy baskets full of apples and selected a tree that would barely fit in the bed of the pickup.

Above them, the sun had started to set and the air was going chilly. Peter buried his smiling face and pressed a hand tightly to Tony’s chest.

With his coat on, there was no way Peter would be able to see the reactor’s faint glow. Tony didn’t think he cared much.

#irondad #omegaverse #belle writes #better tags on ao3 #peter parker #avengers #marvel #tony stark #spiderman #iron man

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marvelwritings · 3 years

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A piece of me has disappeared

Summary: By day three, the first doubts set in. He’s convinced Tony is still out looking for him, but putting in the effort doesn’t always guarantee results. These people that abducted him are clever, and they know about his spider abilities.

or: Peter get's abducted and Tony goes to rescue his son

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet. Morgan is in her bed and there’s no doubt that tomorrow at seven am she’ll be up and at ‘em to wake Peter up. Tony and Pepper are across the room of his, their frantic work attitudes finally put to the sleep they so desperately need. Peter is blinking up at his roof in his bedroom, feeling fine, good even, peaceful and sated and most importantly, safe.

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet and …. The repeats stops working once Peter’s stomach gnaws again, the hunger he’s so gravely experiencing has switched to a whole new level. No longer the petty grumbles of an empty stomach, instead it’s replaced by the need to eat anything, despite Peter’s rationality telling him he can’t. He’s been locked up for at least seven days, but he’s still to sceptic to eat anything his captors offer him. He’s very close to breaking.

He tries to hold on by imagining that he’s at home, but he’s so tired, yet so fitful he won’t close his eyes for more then 10 seconds, and the constant torture is so jarring it hurts worse to imagine home, then be woken up in reality, than to just to be present. Peter wonders if Tony is every going to find him.

The first day, he had no question about it. Tony is scarily determined and protective to anyone who dares come after the people he considers family, Peter got a first row demonstration when some journalist tried to bad mouth Spiderman and he got clocked in the jaw, so Peter knows it’s just a matter of time.

By day three, the first doubts set in. He’s convinced Tony is still out looking for him, but putting in the effort doesn’t always guarantee results. These people that abducted him are clever, and they know about his spider abilities. So much so that they keep him sedated at all times, just enough sedative to keep him conscious, but not too little that he can tap in his superstrength. Peter will never be able to escape on his own.

Maybe if the avengers got called in they were close, but Peter’s not sure Tony would call in people he hasn’t spoken to in a few months, purely to find him. He can hold out hope though.

The third day is also the day his captures, he hasn’t seen any faces so far and the sedative contorts their voices too much to match them to somebody he knows, start with the emotional manipulation. So far, they had stuck to electrocution by tazers and punches applied to any sensitive area of his body, but Peter must not have been broken fast enough for them.

‘You know, you remind me of the stereotypical bad guys in movies, like in kids movies? Do you like kid movies? My favorite is Frozen’, Peter had once babbled in between punches through bitten teeth, trying to keep up his high spirits.

They didn’t like that one bit.

They claim all sort of ridiculous things, like that the Starks paid money for them to have kidnapped him, that Tony never started searching for him, that he might as well give up because no one was coming to fetch him. Peter laughs in their face, witty even in the face of extreme danger. It was still funny to him then. Now, on the evening of the seventh day, he stares unblinking at a wall, only moving when the physical pain becomes too much and he needs an outlet to scream.

‘Please’, he pleads sobbing. If he wasn’t so starved as he was, so mentally vulnerable, he would have been embarrassed. As it stands, Peter’s just so incapable of resisting, he simply gives in.

‘Please stop,’ Peter whimpers. If he had anything to give he’d bargain, but money is tight for May and him, and he has no knowledge of anything avengers related that could be of interest to these people. Mister Stark told him it was for his own safety, so it wouldn’t be used as leverage against him, but in Peter’s warped mind it further adds proof Tony never trusted him.

‘Ahn’, a captor coos, ‘he’s begging already, how cute.’ The voice is distinctly that of a woman’s, but it hold nothing of the warm timbre both aunt May and Pepper possess. He misses them.

The woman slides a hand up in Peter’s hair, and for one confusing moment Peter thinks she’s going to start stroking it, like Tony does, but then she balls her hands into fists and pulls his head aside. The next tazer gets placed in his neck.

‘This wouldn’t be happening if your so beloved mentor would just give up the plans for the new shield initiative, but alas, as long as he doesn’t you’ll be stuck here. The tazzer buzzes to life and Peter seizes up. It’s the so many’th time today, that Peter gives up on holding back, his scream ricochets in the room.

‘Then again, maybe we went after the wrong kid. Maybe we should have taken Tony Starks real kid? The one he actually cares about?’

Tears stumbles down his cheeks and he wishes he could fall back into unconsciousness, but of course life is not that kind. No, he begs inside his head, to warm out to speak. Not Morgan, never Morgan. He’d die before he’d let anything happen to her.

‘What do you think soldier,’ she addresses the second captor in the room, ‘perhaps a phone call would speed Stark along? A sign of life and how close to it being snuffed out the child is? What do you want Peter?’ She asks sickly sweet, as if it’s a regular question and not a taunt.

Still, Peter can’t help but reach out. He longs for one phone call so wholeheartedly. Maybe, maybe he can convince Mister Stark to get him out of this mess. He could promise to do every task Mister Stark ask of him, he could even offer to work for Stark industries until he could pay back the money he’d pay Peter’s kidnappers, anything to get out of here. Peter will do anything.

‘I think he’s agreeing.’ The woman grins, pulling out a burner phone out of her back pocket. She types for several excruciating moments, in which Peter begs to every god listening that Mister Stark will pick up. That he’ll hear Peter out.

‘Hello,’ the woman greets the phone, her smirk so evil Peter’s spider senses warm him to run, fighting through the drugs. ‘I think I have something that belongs to you Stark.’

She lowers the phone to a few inches from Peter’s ear, because Peter is too tied up to hold it on his own. ‘Speak loudly kid.’

The use of the nickname causes shudders to run down Peter’s back. Why can’t he go home?

‘Mister Stark, please help me, I don’t know where I am, but- I want to go home, please mister Stark I-. I’ll do anything you want, just please.’ Peter’s whines gain pitch, until he is nothing but a sobbing mess, barely worth the name Peter Parker, let alone Spiderman.

The phone clicks shut.

‘Whoops, looks like he hung up’, The woman snickers, patting Peter’s cheek with fake compassion. Peter bellows, heaving so severely the nonexistent food he ate threatens to come back up.

He’d never find out the phone was never connected in the first place.

---

By the grace of Peter doesn’t know what, he drops unconscious after the failed phone call to Mister Stark. The sleep is fitful at best, but at least it helps restock his powers. When Peter comes too, there are loud sounds just outside of the room he’s captivated in. He thinks there’s screaming and pleading, but he’s so exhausted he can’t bring himself to care. His hands drop uselessly by his side, his head turned away from the door as he squeezes his eyes shuts.

Why can’t this be over yet?

The door busts of his hinges, the door falls inwards. Immediately, the yellow and red armor, belonging to the iron man suit, rushes in, with the faceplate down. Now that the door is open, or gone more like, It’s clear that all the sounds Peter had been hearing where the scream of his captures. There are many of them, but they’re being taken down one by one.

Peeking aside the Iron man armor, Peter sees a flash of red and blue, and captain America’s shield knocking someone out cold.

‘Kid, kid’, Mister Stark draws his attention in a panic. The faceplate is still down, which means that Mister Stark is either not here, like he wasn’t when the vulture first dropped him into a lake, or he’s assessed the situation and deemed it too dangerous to lower his defenses.

‘You’re okay underoos, we’re getting you out of here.’ With very little effort, Mister Stark snaps restraints on Peter’s wrist and ancles, all the while murmuring under his breath. He’s trying to reassure Peter, but it’s not having any type of effect.

Instead, the comfort causes Peter to burst into tears once more, his body begging for food and pain medication that will make everything stop hurting. He doesn’t care that Mister Stark is doing this out of rightfulness, or maybe out of debt out of some kind that he’s trying to even out, Peter just wants to go home.

Once the restraints are all loose, and Peter is free of them, Mister Stark waits for a tense second, maybe expecting Peter to hob off the table and join the fight or something. That doesn’t happen. Peter lays motionless on the table, looking intensely at the glowing eyes of the iron man suit, maybe trying to convey a message that Mister Stark can’t decipher.

‘Come on Pete, we have to get out of here before they bring backup. I can only hold them off for so long.’

‘Back up?’ Peter ask nonsensical, his spider senses blaring danger at him.

‘Yeah, they’re big fans of the avengers, they’ll all be swarming in here for autographs soon, but we’re kinda busy so we really have to go now.’ Mister Stark turns frantic, his hands carefully, oh so cautiously, gripping at his shoulders.

Peter allows his muscles to turn limp, pliant under strange hands. They belong to his mentor, to one of the only touches he has ever felt that don’t originate from people who are trying to hurt him, but he’s so very terrified, it doesn’t register. Peter holds still, submissive to whatever is about to happen because the pain always seems to end faster when he doesn’t struggle.

‘Peter’, Mister Stark anguished voice insists, his faceplates lifts up, and the dull eyes of who Peter has come to think of as a father gaze upon him with despair. Mister Starks hair is greasy, his mouth is pulled down in a grimace, and his eyes are, for a lack of better word grief stricken. He’s so much older then he was before Peter was taken. ‘Please buddy, we have to go.’

Mister Stark’s calloused finger strokes Peter cheek with the utmost care, barely even pressing firm enough for Peter to feel it. He does though, and traps the touch between his check and his shoulder. The dam breaks, and the barrier of terror that clouded Peter’s judgment lifts with it. He gasps, coming up for a breath of fresh air, and the moment between mentor and son brings at least a sliver of clarity, before he sinks back under the enormity of his panic.

‘I can’t walk’, Peter rasps, his throat torn from all the screams. He refuses to let that stop him, he’s so close to safety, he needs to push on further just a tad longer. ‘Please Mister Stark, I can’t walk.’

‘It’s okay Pete’, Tony soothes, pressing an unyielding kiss to his forehead, and if at all possible, Peter see the rage harden his face even more. ‘I’m going to get you out of here, but it’s gonna hurt, I’m sorry.’

Before Peter can begin to process that statement, Mister Stark puts the weight on his knees, the iron man suit helping to lift Peter as if it’s no trouble at all. Tony is no liar, Peter finds, as his body begs to be placed back on the uncomfortable bed. Even places that had been relatively unharmed ache, and Peter feels like a broken doll.

‘It’s okay Kiddo we’re almost there, just a minute longer.’ Peter clings to Mister Stark, using every ounce of strength to hang on, despite the fact that Tony has a tight grip on him as well. Iron man isn’t fighting alone, as the avengers are here to back him, them, up. In any other situation, Peter would be gushing. Not only is he seeing his heroes in action, but they’re in action for him, to help him, but now, Peter only turns his head to burrow it into Mister Starks chest plate.

‘Please, please’, Peter whispers the entire way to the jet, not even realizing he’s begging for something.

‘I got you Pete’, Tony assures, one hand briefly leaving Peter’s back to shoot at a capture that’s standing in the way of the jet. Other than that, he doesn’t interfere with the fight one time, but he must itch too. Peter hears him bark orders at captain America, telling him to take some of them alive.

‘Please don’t leave me here, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.’

The Jet is nice and warm, something Peter relishes in, but when Tony tries to lower Peter on a medbed, that’s objectively much more comfortable then the bed he was on before, Peter screams. No words are spoken, but the scream startles Mister Stark just the same.

‘Stark, the base is cleared, get him strapped in, Banner is coming’, Natasha ushers, ignoring Peter’s cries and running to the cockpit. Stark has him, she argues, and it does the kid no good to have more prying eyes on him.

‘What is it, are you in pain?’ Tony asks franticly, without responding to Nat, hands hovering over Peter’s body to check for injuries, the light dims when he spots just how badly he was treated in captivity.

Peter screams again when Mister Stark pulls away too far for his liking, latching onto the suit so rigorous it creaks in protests.

‘Please, I’ll be good, don’t leave me, please. I- I know… I’m sorry, Morgan- I’, Peter can’t talk with how much he’s weeping, there are so many things to say and all of them are fighting one another to be said first. Eventually, after everyone has already touched base, the jet leaves and Doctor Banner urgers Tony to place him on the bed, Peter settles for; ‘Don’t leave me here.’

‘Peter’, Tony spits, so harsh that Peter snaps to attention, letting go of the armor and limply following where mister Stark wants him. He gently grips Peter’s chin, mindful of the bruises, and with glistening eyes, he conveys; ‘I’m never leaving you here, do you understand. I don’t care what else you have in your head, but right now, all I need you to know is that I’m not leaving you. Ever.’

He waits for the conforming nod, which Peter only gives when Mister Stark clasps his hand into his. ‘Beside, May would kill me if I came back without her nephew, and I don’t want to be the one to receive her wrath.’ Tony laughs faintly.

He wants to cry at that, good or bad he’s not sure, but instead he allows himself to be lowered, giving in only because Tony is crouching down with him, shielding Peter’s body with his own. It’s unsensical, there in the jet and there’s no danger, but if Peter feels protected Tony will do it, no questions asked.

As soon as he’s in a horizontal positions, Doctor Banner injects him with pain medication, and within seconds, Peter has floated away, dreaming of the lake house with Morgan, Pepper and tony and May at the end of the hallway.

---

Peter knows he’s in the medbay before his body has even fully awoken. He’s been here before, perhaps one to many times for it too be so familiar, and he can recognize the atmosphere from anywhere. The smell of disinfectant lingers around the room heavily, but so does the smell of motor oil, coming from Mister Stark’s lab the floor below the medbay. Usually he’s not alone when he wakes up either, accompanied by Mister Stark or May, maybe even both, and so despite the room having a different connotation, it holds security for Peter.

When all his senses click into place, with an almost audible snap after being out of commission for a week, the burning anguish joins it. It’s almost worse than during the torture itself, because it’s hitting him all at once now, and after stewing for a day his body is one big bruise, but it’s also better, because no more hurt can be added.

Blinking his eyes open, Peter glances around the room and notices that he’s by himself. He hasn’t made up his mind yet whether that’s a good or bad thing. Despite being alone, Peter very nearly cries out for the pain medication he’s sure Tony has at hand. His metabolism runs through painkillers faster than a normal body, but Mister Stark has experience in that department thanks to captain America, which is why Peter never wakes up in the medbay feeling sore.

He’s hoping to snatch some of the good stuff before he can sink away in sleep again, until a dark thought pops up in his head. What if Mister Stark purposefully didn’t give him enough medication so he wouldn’t stay asleep? What if Peter is expected to pay of his debt starting this very moment? It would make sense. Mister Stark is a man that likes to get a move on things, and this is probably no exception.

He bites back a loud whine. He’s so tired and sore, and if he could be anywhere in the world right now he’d choose the lakehouse and rest on the back porch, while looking over Morgan and ensuring she’s safe.

Still, it’s heaps better then what was waiting for him before, so Peter sucks in a deep breath and lifts himself up. He’s dresses in a hospital gown with socks on his feet, the only reprieve of the cold of the tiles that he has. His body fights in protest against the jolting movements, and Peter sinks back into bed three times before finally managing to stay upright. He swallows back bile, and blinks away the disorientation woozing its way through his head.

‘Friday’? He whispers, voice cracking on every syllable.

‘Yes, mister Parker, the AI replies easily, as chipper as a computer can possibly be. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ she adds, when Peter takes too long to reply. It’s not out of rudeness, but the words take a while to be processed in Peter’s hazy mind.

‘Can you tell me what Mister Stark wants me to do?’ Peter finally asks after coughing to clear his throat. Pride flows through his bloodstream when he manages to sound fine.

‘Mister Stark has not given me any directions, but by the distress and elevated heartbeat he experienced whilst at your bedside last, I hypothesize that he would like you to rest Peter.’

Confusion laces Peter’s next move. Rest? But if that was the case why wasn’t the man here, ensuring that he does like all the other times he’s been in this position? Deciding not to ask the AI anymore questions, while simultaneously ignoring her advice, Peter focuses on setting one foot in front of the other. If he can’t get a direct answer out of Friday, he’ll just get started on cleaning up in the lab.

The last few times Tony and Peter worked in there, Mister Stark had jokingly grumbled that the lace was getting to disorganized even for his taste, which definitely means something. Peter limps his way to the door, already breathing more heavily and deciding to take a rest against the still closed door. His foot throbs, so Peter switches to put the most weight on the side of his foot, instead of on the balm.

The small trek has left him bone tried, and the lab still seems so far away. Peter tries to calculate how far the lab still is, and agrees with himself to divide the length into smaller stretches. His next stop is at the elevator, so Peter shuffled along the floor, ignoring the black spots that dance before his eyes and threaten to have him collapse.

The extortion reminds him of the time that Toomes dropped a building on him, which is just plain ridiculous, this shouldn’t be half as tough. Peter scolds himself to man up when about halfway to the elevator he bumps into a cart and whimpers.

After finally finding support on the elevator beams, Peter allows himself a twenty second break to cry. At this point, the exact reason for crying is unbeknownst to him. All that he does know is that he feels like a mess, like someone took all the spiderman away from him and left him as a pile of uselessness. He shouldn’t have the right to complain however. Mister Stark rescued him from a fate much worse, the least he could do is help him out.

‘Friday’, Peter pauses to gulp in more air, and to force his tears back. ‘Open the elevator.’

‘Mister Parker I would advise-‘

‘Please’, he begs, voice barely louder then a whisper. The AI complies without further disagreement. The elevator begins to move the floor bellow it, soundlessly passing Peter along. The theme song, a little joke that Tony had installed after they made a song about spiderman, which plays during every elevator ride when Peter is present, stays off. The doors open, and Peter stumbles out, cheering up a dash when the mess doesn’t look as bad as he had imagined it. The clean up should be doable within two hours, even in Peter’s injured state. Most of the mess comes from scattered papers and documents that Tony tosses aside and never bothered to do anything with, and of mechanical parts that are ready to be thrown out.

All in all, not a lot of weight that Peter has to pick up. He has barely started on five pages when the elevator behind him opens again. Peter hadn’t noticed it going to a different floor in the first place.

Lister Stark burst out of the room like the devil himself is after him. He pauses for one second to observe what Peter’s doing -he’s in the middle of bending down at a very lateral pace- and then he’s off again, cursing under his breath.

‘Jesus Christ Peter what are you doing?’

He pulls out a rolling chair from behind his work bench and rushes it to Peter side. ‘Come on, sit.’ He says already clenching a hand around Peter’s bicep to guide him down. In his confusion, Peter follows his instruction.

‘Mister Stark?’ He questions, eyes tracking his mentors movement as if he’s afraid he’s done something wrong and punishment will follow.

There is none, all that Tony does, is fall down on his knees in front of Peter, so they’re making direct eye contact. Peter gulps at the sight. He’s sure those jeans cost more than half of what May ears a month, and if Peter is expected to repay those too, he’ll never be able to pay of his debt.

‘Kiddo, what are you doing?’ Mister Stark asks incredulous, his hand never leaving Peter’s arm. His eyes sweep over Peter’s form, noticing the ailments that he aggravated by walking all the way down here. ‘Why aren’t you in bed?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get started already.’ Peter admits shyly. He can’t understand why he’s being treated with such kindness all of a sudden.

‘Started on what Pete? I don’t understand.’ Mister Stark shuffles closer, one hand coming up to cup Peter’s chin, sweeping gentle circles that are meant to calm himself down as much as Peter.

‘Paying of my debt.’ Peter replies confused, wrapping his arms around his stomach area and bending downwards in an order to self sooth. He needs to get up soon, are Peter’ not sure he will be able to. Now that he’s granting his body some rest, the pain he forced to the back of his mind is rushing back in.

‘What debt kid, you need rest and you need it right now. Stay here, I’m going to go get you a gurney so you don’t require any more walking.’

Right as Mister Stark gets of his knees, Peter’s hand shoots out, gripping the older man’s wrist. The action was pure habitual, but now that he’s initiated contact he doesn’t know what to do.

‘When will I have to start working then? I’d rather get started as soon as possible, to thank you for everything Mister Stark.’ Peter’s voice pitches even lower, letting his head hang down in shame. He really doesn’t want to offer his suit back, Spiderman is what gives him purpose, but the sooner he no longer has a debt, the sooner he can start working to provide May with an extra income as well. He has no choice.

‘I can give you the suit back if you’ll accept it.’

Tony regards him with perturbation for several long lasting moment. Then, he gasps, finally clicking in his head what Peter is going on about.

‘Oh kiddo, that’s the concussion speaking. Listen to me,’ he sinks back down in front Peter, taking his hand in his. ‘You have done so much for me. If anything it’s me that should be in debt to you.’ Peter pens his mouth to argue, but Tony hushes him softly.

‘You’re not thinking straight buddy, that why spider baby’s need their rest. But truly Peter, you don’t owe me anything. Well except maybe you owe it to be safe, I think I’ve earned that much.’

‘Really?’ Peter asks optimistically, his whole body filling up with a feeling he can’t name, but it chokes him up until he’s bursting with the urge to give a hug to his mentor.

‘Yeah Peter of course. All I want is my kids to be safe.’

Kids. Tony sees Peter as his kid, as equal to Morgan. A person to love unconditionally without needing any favors, without having any debt. Of course Mister Stark won’t ask that of him, despite his front, the man has a heart that’s made of gold. Mister Stark, his mentor, and his father figure.

‘Dad,’ Peter sobs, almost falling out of the chair in his rush to get to Tony. The man immediately returns the hug, holding Peter up in a way that he hopes will be the least painful for him.

‘You’re okay Peter you’re okay.’

‘I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking’, Peter confesses, deeply ashamed of how low he thought of his dad.

‘It’s okay Kiddo, like I said it’s the concussion. Of course you were scared, I can’t blame you. I promise that I tried so hard to find you bud. I’m sorry it took me so long.’

Peter says nothing, he’s had enough encounters with Tony now to sense that the man wouldn’t believe him if Peter told him it’s okay. Instead he just nuzzles closer, accepting all the love and affection radiating from Tony, and giving back what he hopes is just as much.

‘Can we go back to the lakehouse?’ Peter asks softly, burring his head in Tony’s neck. It might be a weird question coming from him. He liked the beach house enough, but he has never actively asked to go there when they could stay at the tower as well. But now, Peter won’t feel safe unless his down there, in the cabin hidden behind threes, where the environment is quiet that he can hear everyone’s heartbeat, and can confirm that everyone is safe.

‘Sure kid.’ Tony responds, a tad bewildered, but happy to provide anyway. ‘We’ll leave as soon as you get check out okay. I want to make sure you didn’t rip anything.’

‘Okay’, Peter mumbles, a bone deep tiredness washing over him, and letting him sink down into Tony. ‘Thanks dad.’

If Peter were more awake, he would have noticed the silent tears of happiness streaming down Mister Starks cheek at the name. As it stands, Peter just hums contently when a kiss is pressed at the top of his head, and Tony strikes a hand through his hair.

‘Anything for my son.’

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #hurt peter parker #hurt/comfort #tony stark imagine #tony stark #protective tony stark #fluff #angst #Peter gets kidnapped #and tortured #but not in detail #Tony is affectionate #Peter's apprehensive #marvel imagine #spiderman imagine #spider son #irondad #irondad imagine

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About vi

You and Colson grapple with being “just friends.”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 1871

| i | ii | iii | iv | v |

masterlist

Hi friend

You were in the studio working on editing one of your songs when you got the text. You hated it, but you smiled automatically when his name popped onto your screen.

Hi friend

The past few days had been weird, but necessary. Colson ended up staying at Pete’s apartment the next night too, so you had plenty of time to figure out how “friends” worked. Unsurprisingly, you hated it. But it was the only way to keep Colson close to you, so you’d take it.

I’m bored

I thought you were friend?

Haha

But seriously you should entertain me

As friends

I’m in the studio rn

U can take a break

What would we do if I took a break?

You tried really hard not to flirt, but it came so naturally. But maybe if you convinced yourselves that you were just friends, it would happen. Because that’s how things work.

Lunch?

I’m hungry

I thought you were bored?

That joke is lame

Will u pls go out to lunch with me

As friends

Hmmmmm

I suppose I could think about it

You sighed, saving the audio project and shutting the computer down. You hadn’t eaten all day and spending time with Colson wasn’t the worst way to spend your lunch break.

Y/N I will find you and drag you out of that studio

You don’t even know where I am

Where do you wanna go?

I could find out…

Whatever u want

Mediterranean? There’s a cute place right by me I’ve been wanting to check out.

You sent him the address, asking him to meet you in 10 minutes.

It’s a date

Wait

Not a date

Like I’ll see you then

You laughed as the texts came through your phone, shaking your head. You headed out of the building, walking towards the small restaurant. You weren’t exactly dressed in “lunch clothes,” because you had expected to stay in the studio all day, but you would survive.

You got in line at the blue painted restaurant, thankful that it wasn’t too long. You waited a few minutes before a familiar voice spoke from your side. “Now what’s a pretty girl like you doing all by herself?”

You smiled, turning to Colson. “Waiting for her friend to show up.”

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk on his face. “I hope your friend is as hot as you are.” He chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, “not even close.”

Luckily Colson understood you were joking and he laughed with you. “How have you been?” He asked, “did they catch the guy breaking into apartments?”

“I’ve been good, working.” You nodded, “yeah, they caught him. He broke into this police officer’s place while he was home.”

Colson huffed in amusement, “talk about bad luck.”

“Right? I mean, I’m glad they caught him but, I mean, what are the odds?” You moved forward in the line, reaching the hostess stand.

“Two please.” Colson asked, flashing the girl a smile. You bit your tongue to hide the scowl that almost instinctively came to your face.

The hostess was young and no doubt attractive. She batted her eyelashes towards the tall man, not even acknowledging you. “What’s the name?”

You furrowed your eyebrows as Colson answered, wondering why she would need his name if she was taking you to the table. “And what’s the number?” She asked sweetly. If you were drinking water you would have spit it out.

Colson blushed slightly as you stood in shock. “Um-I’m.” He looked at you as if to say “I’m here with someone” but then he must’ve realized that he wasn’t technically on a date. “You’re lovely, but I’m not interested.” He muttered out, an awkward look on his face.

You were trying your hardest not to look pissed off, because if you looked pissed off then the lie you and Colson have been telling each other about being just friends would be exposed.

The girl looked you over, eyes raking up and down you with a disgusted look on her face. You felt very self-conscious suddenly, your head turning towards the floor in embarrassment. Colson noticed and cleared his throat, “our table?”

The girl didn’t speak a word as she grabbed two menus and led you to the table. “Your waiter will be with you shortly.” She spit out, anger on her face. Your heart was beating very fast, but you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sadness.

Colson eyed you from across the table as you played with the hair tie on your wrist. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You spoke too fast to convince him, your quiet demeanor also giving you away.

He sighed, his foot kicking yours lightly and pulling your focus up to him. “Okay, you just seem a little uncomfortable.”

You huffed, “yeah, well, having girls look at me like I’m the scum of the earth does that to a person.”

He frowned, “You know she has, like, nothing on you, right?”

A small blush found your cheeks, and you looked down at your hands again. “You can’t say stuff like that.” You muttered.

“What? Friends say that stuff to each other! I’m trying to make you feel better.” His smile told you he knew what he had done, but he didn’t care.

You sighed, “yeah but you can’t say that to me.”

Colson gaped dramatically, “why not?”

“Because it’s different coming from you.” You laughed. “Why didn’t you give her your number?” You asked, curious for his answer.

He shrugged, “wasn’t interested. Guess I have high expectations.”

You rolled your eyes, “it’s not because I’m here, right?”

Colson let out a sigh, “N-“

He started to speak but was interrupted by the waiter at your table, “Welcome to Shuka, my name is Oliver, I’ll be your server today. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?”

“I’ll get a water, please.” You said, smiling at the man. Colson raised an eyebrow at you. “I have to go back to work after this.”

He chuckled, scanning the menu, “can I get a Nitro?” Oliver nodded, sending you both smiles before heading back to the kitchen.

You sent Colson a look, expecting him to continue your previous conversation. Instead, he continued to read through the menu. “Do you know what you want? I’m thinking about the Shak-Shakshu-.” He tried to pronounce the name of the dish but was failing.

You giggled, finding the dish on the menu, “Shakshuka.” You told him, “and I haven’t even looked.” You scanned through the menu in your hands, reading the names of the various dishes. Colson took to studying you, a small smile on his face.

“It’s not because you’re here. It’s because I’m genuinely not interested in anyone else.” He said out of the blue. Confusion flashed across your face before you understood what he was referring to. You took in a breath, trying to figure out how to respond. “I know I shouldn’t tell you that, but I just think you needed to know.”

You smiled to yourself, “I don’t mind, I just- it makes it harder to convince myself this isn’t a date.”

Colson nodded, “this is not a date. We are just two friends having a friendly lunch. As friends.” He was trying to convince himself too.

“Right. Friendly friends. Two people who are just friends.” You said, exaggerating the word “friends”. Awkwardness hung in the air for a few moments before you both started laughing.

You fell into the familiar pattern of conversation that seemed to come naturally to you both. When your meals arrived, you were both very excited. “Can I try some of yours?” You asked, sending him the most convincing puppy dog eyes you could muster. He chuckled, placing some of the poached egg onto his fork and moving it towards you. You rolled your eyes at the cliché but smiled anyways, letting him feed you. Your eyes widened in shock “that’s so good!”

He nodded, swallowing his food. “My turn.” He said, reaching over and plucking up a falafel from your plate with his fork. Once he finished eating he smiled at you, “you have excellent taste. You’re picking the restaurants every time now.”

You raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on your face. “So we’re going to have more of these friend lunches?” You asked.

“Duh. We’re friends. This is what friends do.”

You giggled, “I don’t hear about you and Pete going out for lunch together.”

The man chuckled, eyes closing for a moment. “If it’ll make you feel better I’ll take Pete to lunch one of these days.” That made you giggle even harder, shaking your head.

Neither of you finished your meals, packing them into to-go boxes to eat later. When Oliver brought the check over, you were very flustered. Colson automatically reached to pay but you grabbed his wrist, “we’re on separate checks.” You told the server. Oliver nodded, moving to fix it until Colson spoke up.

“I got it, it’s not a problem.” You sent him a look. “I asked you to lunch, I pay.”

“Friends let their friends pay for themselves.” You muttered, moving your hand from his wrist.

He rolled his eyes, “you can pay next time.” Smiling smugly, he handed his credit card to Oliver, who was very confused. “Relax. I’m just being nice.”

You sighed, pouting slightly. “It’s already hard enough and then you make it worse by flirting and paying and- ugh.” You cut yourself off, frustrated.

Colson clenched his jaw, letting out a hard breath through his nose. “I know, I’m sorry. This isn’t exactly easy for me either.” You nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed at your small outburst. “We can do this.” He said, confidently. If only you could feel as confident as he sounded.

Once Oliver came back with the card and receipts, you both left the restaurant. You hadn’t noticed the cameras as you walked down the street with Colson, the conversation returning to light banter and jokes, but they noticed you.

Colson walked you all the way back to the studio you were working at, insisting on going with you all the way inside. “I just wanna see where you work.” He claimed, but you insisted it was just like every other studio.

You got into the elevator to ride up to the fourth floor, where your space was. Colson stepped in with you, a smile on his face. You sighed, pressing the button and waiting for the elevator to close.

“Hey Y/N?” He spoke as the doors began to shut. You looked up to him, eyebrow raised in question. The doors closed and instead of responding, Colson leaned down, pressing his lips to yours.

You kissed him back, hands cupping his face. You heard the elevator beep as you passed the second floor, and then the third floor. He pulled away, smile on his face.

You took in a deep breath, “I thought you…”

“Fuck it.” He muttered, standing up straight. You smiled, biting your lip. “But we’re not hiding this from Pete. We’re just… testing the waters.”

You hummed in agreement as the elevator doors opened, stepping into the hallway and leading him to your studio.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker x reader #colson imagine

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Text

The One Where No One Is Ready

~Notes: I’m reposting this because I deleted the series off of AO3 <3<3

Send Me A Friends Storyline/Prompt | A Reblog Means EVERYTHING!

Their is T minus forty-five minutes until James is expected to enter the arena for this year’s Espy awards, where he— a longterm representative of the UK’s top athletes, with a social media following that can rival a B list celebrity’s— will be presenting the award for the best international football player, and rumor has it that Ludo fucking Bagman is going to win. This is a dream come true— more than that even! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity! And it was thanks to his mentor, Minerva McGonagall, that he even can do something that he’s dreamt of doing since his days playing in the child leagues as a lad. It’s going to be one of the best nights of his bloody life. So it only makes sense that his sodding best friends aren’t even taking this with an ounce of seriousness. In fact, instead of doing the decent thing and getting ready as efficiently as possible, those pricks are lounging over the breakfast table goading Sirius into drinking the fat from the icebox that Lily stored for whichever cooking masterpiece she is sure to whip up later this week. Not a one of them even showered.

Bloody blunders.

“Oi, Moons,” Sirius crows loudly, grinning wolfishly down at him with a glint in his steely eyes and a smirk on his face. “Promise if I chug this down you’ll give us a little kiss.”

James feels a migraine coming on.

“In your dreams Black,” Remus retorts, wrinkling his nose disapprovingly, while Marlene only guffaws and James feels his head literally beginning to pulse with pure exasperation.

Absolute pricks..

“You gits, we’ve got less than an hour till we have to call the cabs. Will you all just get dressed for Christ’s sake.”

“No need for the snappy tone Prongs.” Sirius says with a cluck to his tongue.

“It’ll take us only a tick to get ready,” Remus says, waving him off airily. And James really regrets the fact that he’s moved in with Sirius now that James and Lily are in marital bliss. Sirius’s a bad influence on him, and James should’ve predicted as much.

“Besides, ’s not my fault your wife’s hogging the bathroom,” Marlene tacks on— having dashed over here after her shift at the same firm as James, still dressed in her slacks and leather jacket.

“Well Marls, you don’t have to get your hair done now that you’ve chopped it off as short as your ears,” Lily defends herself as she steps out the aforementioned bathroom in James’s powder blue robe, thankfully her makeup is set and hair is pulled back into an artful bun and she’s as beautiful as ever. James can’t help but feel his insides go all goopy and his stomach begins to tumble every time she even looks his way, especially when she smiles that private little grin that she only uses on him.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph does he love her to his very core, tells her as much once kissing her softly amidst the groans of the other three. “You are my angel.”

“I know,” Lily preens, green eyes bright and dimples in full effect. “Now I’ve just got to pick out what to wear and we can go.”

James thanks her profusely before pivoting back around to Marlene, begs her to get on with it already.

“Alright, alright potter. God you men only like to rush, no time for foreplay.”

“I like foreplay,” Remus contends as he sits on the loveseat and begins flipping through a magazine Lily’s left laying around, which makes it so Sirius’s face goes wrecked and pale and very nearly makes the cup of fat in his hand fall to the ground— is only saved by James’s old footie reflexes.

“Get it the fuck together man,” James hisses with a glower. But then quickly amends, “But not tonight. Tonight just get dressed for fuck’s sake.” There is absolutely no time to deal with this melodrama between Sirius and Remus that basically amounts to heady glances and licked lips and sexual tension that’s frankly obscene.

Sirius swallows down, hard, and gives a perfunctory nod, but instead of walking across the hall to bloody change already, he only sits besides Remus and grins at him in a very scary, very intense way. James is almost convinced that poor Moony will end up naked and swaddled in saran wrap— Dexter style— by the end of the night. But he can’t warn him considering that there’s a knock to the door and he finds Dorcas—

beautiful and elegant in a pale yellow dress that contrasts in a lovely way against her dark brown skin— on the other side. “You look fantastic.” James breathes out, worshipingly.

“I know,” Dorcas beams as she struts in, helping herself to the pita crisps and hummus left out. “But don’t let Marls hear you else she gets all pouty.”

“Do not!” Marlene yells from the loo, to which Dorcas only silently mouths, does so, over James’s shoulder to a snickering Sirius.

“Right, well seeing as the ladies are all accounted for, we’re just waiting for Wormtail and you berks,” he points angrily at the pair now arguing over the remote.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Minnie can be left waiting,” Sirius snorts.

“Our table is at the very front Pads! She’ll see us walking in late! And then they might give my slot to that prick Mulciber!”

“A travesty,” Sirius intones.

“He might be on to something Pads,” Remus points out. “It takes an hour just for you to primp your hair.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day Moony!”

“Are you implying that your hair is as extravagant as Rome? Because I think you might be seriously over estimating yourself.” Remus leers, and Sirius only gapes at the lip. God, if James has to watch them dancing around each other for another day he’s going to go rudding gray at the temples.

“You are a plonker Lupin!” Remus narrowly avoids Sirius’s punch aimed for his shoulder, and scurries off across the hall, Sirius’s gaze never leaving his arse all the while.

“That’s lewd,” Dorcas tells him.

“Pitiful from where I’m looking at it.” James snorts.

Sirius only glowers and tosses them the bird. “Come off it.”

“I bet you’d like to come off with’m.” Dorcas sneers, and James actually let’s himself laugh at the increasingly reddening face Sirius has just pulled in retort. Thankfully, none of his curses have a chance to spill out because of Peter strolling in— clad in a suit that’s a little short on the legs and a little tight in the middle. But he looks presentable at least, which is more than what Sirius could say.

“What’s wrong Pete?” Dorcas asks him as she perches on the armrest of the sofa.

“What do you mean what’s wrong? He’s dressed. He’s brilliant!” James beams, clapping him on the shoulder, noticing a beat too late how Peter’s acting a bit dodgy— hands rinsing in front of him and eyes darting every which way.

“I messaged Marry.”

“Oh Pete.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Why the fuck would you do that!”

The three of them chorus in various tones of disappointment.

“She, erm. Well She posted this picture of her at home with her puppy and I saw a sweater.”

“A sweater?” Sirius repeats, wry as all get out.

“A man’s sweater I mean.”

Dorcas rolls her eyes at him now. “Sweaters don’t have genders Peter.”

“Well this one did!” Peter fumes indignantly.

James raises his hands, as if he’s calming a spooked animal. “All right, all right. It was a man’s sweater. What did you message her bout it?”

Peter ducks his head once more, flushing pink. “I asked if her new boyfriend is as allergic to Pippa as I was.” Queue another round of discontent moaning.

“You bloody imbecile.” Sirius groans.

“It all just happened so quickly!”

“Things Sirius’s conquests say on their walk of shame for a thousand Alex,” Remus snickers as he steps back inside, fitted in an admittedly fetching, charcoal suit and a different colored tie in each of his hands. “Oh, you all look shifty.”

“Don’t ever criticize my shagging prowess again Lupin!”

“Peter made a mess of things with Marry,” Dorcas says before Sirius can get on one of his tangents.

“Oh Pete.”

“It happened so quickly,” he tries to explain once more.

Remus only shakes his head and pats his shoulder agreeably. “Sure it did.”

“Well did she read it yet?” Dorcas asks.

“Erm, she was online when I sent her the snap.”

“Oh Peter,” they all groan.

“I need a minute.” He says before retreating to the balcony.

James checks his watch, exactly a half an hour until they all have to go. No time for Peter’s dramatics. Maybe tomorrow James’ll buy him a pint and let him cry over it but they really need to get on with things already.

“C’mon pads, get up.” Remus instructs, trying to tug him off the couch, to which Sirius only smirks.

“You forfeited when you got up Lupin.”

“Oi! I got up to get dressed so James wouldn’t go barmy on us!”

“And I thank you Remus my sweet.” James pipes in while handing Marlene her bag of clothes she had left by the table.

“Pshaw, doesn’t matter. You left it.”

“I left for like five bloody minutes you arse!” Remus shouts.

“So you agree then,” Sirius counters with a cocked brow. “You left it.”

James has to deftly pull Remus away before he pounces on him. “Padfoot don’t be a wanker and just get up and get dressed, won’t you.”

Sirius eyes them both before a look James can’t decipher passes across his face, leaving behind a grim determination. “Righto mates.” He leaps up right then, snatching the cushions up with him, and swaggering off.

“Oi! What the hell Padfoot!”

“I gave you the seat Lupin.”

“But— But—“ Remus sputters. “You took the cushions! That’s the entire ruddy essence of the seat!”

“That’s right Lupin!” Sirius glows with far too much smugness for the situation at hand. “I took your essence!”

Remus is left balking after him and James promptly chugs down a handful of Ibuprofen.

“All right boys?” Marlene asks as she strolls out the bathroom in her black dress and heals, pecking Dorcas hello..

“I’m going to murder Sirius bloody Black with my bare hands,” Remus answers, fists tight around his ties and his face scrunched up mulishly.

“I’ll help!” Dorcas crows, before beaming at Lily who’s just clambered in— half dressed with a shawl in one hand and a different blouse entirely in the other.

“Do you guys reckon I should wear this with my purple pumps, or those new flats I got with a nice pair of slacks.”

“Lily, my love, the angel of my heart, the stars of my night,” James begins, a hand against his chest. “We’ve got twenty-seven minutes till we have to be downstairs.”

“Oh I know love, I just want to look nice for you and your big night,” she says poutingly, kisses his cheek before glancing over at the girls. “Wotcher Dorcas, you and Marlene look lovely.”

“I know,” Dorcas preens.”

“You’re in a jaunty mood?”

“She’s helping Lupin murder Black later tonight,” Marlene explains, lips curled with laughter.

“Oh lovely.”

“I’ll show him essence,” Remus growls from where he’s still holding vigil to the shut door.

James rolls back his head now, eyes alone definitely not cutting it anymore. “Damn everything.”

“Oh Re you look so smart in that suit,” Lily crows, walking over to him, but begins to cluck her tongue. “But neither of those ties match.”

Sirius used the rest of my ties to use as a rope for his halloween costume last month.”

“Of course he did.”

“He’s dead Lily.”

Lily smooths back his hair dotingly. “Sure he is darling, now c’mon. James has got a wonderful velvet tie that would look ravishing with this fit.” Remus lets Lily drag him away while Still muttering about Sirius and essences and the god forsaken guillotine of all things.

“There’s a video!” Peter shouts as he rushes back inside— blonde hair mussed and cheeks reddening as bright as Lily’s hair.

“Bloody hell Peter!” Marlene scolds, hand pressed to her chest. “Don’t be a git and scare us like that.”

Peter only repeats the fact that there’s a video— of what? James does not know nor does he want to find out. God he just wants them to act mentally sound for one damn night.

“A video!”

“Settle yourself Peter,” Dorcas scolds, a hand on her hip and a scowl twisting her pretty face. James reckons that if she were his history teacher in secondary school he might’ve actually been scared enough not to fall asleep. “Now explain yourself.”

“Mary posted a video of Pippa rolling over and there was a bloke in the background laughing along!”

“You saw a random bloke?” Marlene asks.

“No but I heard’m! Clear as day.”

Dorcas sighs, clamping a hand over his shoulder in solace. “Eh, think logically Peter, you lot only split up a couple weeks ago. I seriously doubt Mary’s gone off and shagged someone else so soon.”

“But I heard’m! Maybe she finally realized she could do better.”

“Oh none of that bollocks Peter Pettigrew.” Marlene bellows, joining her girlfriend to stand in front of him now. “Oi, wasn’t she close with that younger brother of her’s?”

Before Marlene’ even finished asking the question, Peter’s worried expression melts away, brightening ten fold and beginning to grin like an absolute lune. “Oi McKinnon! You bloody genius! Your right! It’s Marcus! It’s definitely Marcus!”

“Brilliant!” James hurriedly interjects, the time ticking down to only twenty minutes left. “It was obviously, certainly Marcus this entire time. Now why don’t you be a doll Peter and call us the cabs, I don’t want to risk not grabbing one in time. Especially in this miserable weather.”

Peter nods cheerily, picking up his mobile and idly noting that he’s begun to feel a bit peckish.

“There’s some fat in the fridge if you want,” Marlene calls after him, her snickering dining down once the front door to the flat swings open to a harried looking Sirius. James is about ready to row considering that the only notable differences seem to be the fact he’s no longer wearing his DR Martens and his hair’s even more disheveled than before.

“Where is Lupin!”

“Oi, Black! Not the bloody time for your little lovers quarrel.” James snaps.

“He took my pants!”

“Pardon?” Dorcas wheezes with pure delight.

“That sodding little slag stole my pants!”

“You stole my essence!” Remus bellows, storming back into the main room, shirtless and heated. James almost feels bad for Sirius who’s gone all flushed and blotchy at the sight.

“Remus! No, no, no! Why are you getting undressed! We want you all to be fully damn clothed!”

“Oh, that was my doing,” Lily pipes in, thankfully clad in a lovely, green number that brings out her eyes. “I thought that if Remus changed into one of your white undershirts that it’ll help accentuate the purple tie.”

James really wishes he could stay properly angry at Lily for longer than a second at a time so that he can rebuke them for this little dress up game. But alas, he simply can not, so he’s only left to nod like a daft idiot at her explanation.

“And then I smelt rubbish and so I knew Sirius had returned.” Remus snarls.

“I smell like a fucking field of daisies!”

“Bet your trousers won’t smell that way after an entire night pantsless,” Remus sneers, and James silently reminds himself never to cross the scrappy bugger, (It’s always the quiet ones indeed).

“That’s not on Moony! I don’t want to have my bits out for show, everyone will be focussed on their magnificence over poor Jem and his little presenting gig.”

Heatedly, James tosses him the bird.

“Then give me back the essence!” Remus retorts caustically.

“Fine Lupin, you want to play it this way. Game on!” With one final, haughty harumph, Sirius dashes over to his own apartment and Remus only scoffs as he rounds back to the bedroom.

“What does that even mean! Absolutely nothing that’s what! Damn arse!” Remus grumbles to himself, slamming the door shut after Lily follows, still barefoot herself.

Discretely, James checks his watch once more, feeling a looming sense of dread once realizing that there’s only fifteen minutes left until they have to be out the door.

“Hiya Marcus,” James swings his head up so quickly that he swears he’s got vertigo, but at least Dorcas and Marlene look just as concerned from where they’re also gawking at Peter. “I just wanted to see if you were in town— Oh yeah, yeah. I thought I heard you on the back of that last video Mary posted.”

“Hang up Pettigrew!” Marlene hisses, trying to grab for the phone and is elbowed out the way for her trouble.

“Oh yeah, she did block e after the whole snag with me running over her cat. But you know how it is, making a fake account— Oh, erm I didn’t think it was that weird really.”

“Hang up Peter!” James yells, feeling absolutely hopeless. “Hang up the damn mobile!”

“I know plenty of people who do that! No need to get all shirty!” Peter hisses at Marcus, the color slowly draining out of his face. “No, no you don’t need to tell Maz, ’s not that serious!”

“I need a bloody shot.” Dorcas moans.

“What’s happened?” Remus asks from where he and Lily stroll out the bedroom, fully dressed thank god and both glancing over at a sweating Peter with concern.

“Mary’s surely going to getting a restraining order,” Marlene says with no context, shrinking back when the flat’s door opens once more to Sirius.

“You mad wanker,” James breathes out, not even having enough wits about him to shout. Sirius is standing there, absolutely drowning in countless sweaters pulled up over one another and sweat pants over sweat pants.

“What the bloody hell are you doing!” Remus screams.

“You take my pants, and I wear all your clothes Lupin,” Sirius grins glowingly, eyes glinting with pure mischief.

“You’re going to stretch them all out you absolute beast!”

“I’ve got to say Moons, your sweats are real comfortable without any pants, nice and soft.” Sirius does a forward lunge right then, wiggling around for good measure. So James really shouldn’t be surprised when Remus actually pounces, knocking him over to the ground.

“My money’s on Lupin, the scrappy bugger,” Marlene cackles.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Peter groans, slamming his head against the table, while Sirius and Remus continue to writhe on the ground like a pair of bloody mutts in heat.

“Get it together you plonkers! We need to leave in ten minutes!”

“He, oof, he took my essence!”

Sirius beams victoriously when he finally gets Remus beneath him and pulls up for breath, “You took my pants before I ever did that Lupin.”

“Because you’re a insufferable berk!” Remus hisses, wiggling around and canting forwards, both his and Sirius’s faces going suddenly red, and James shutters to think of what might’ve slid up against each other to elicit that response. Though his imagination is buoyed when Sirius suddenly rocks forwards in a very deliberate way, his head dipping down closer to Remus and it’s like instinct when their lips devour one another’s smolderingly, Remus’s hands fisted in Sirius’s hair, and Sirius’s own sliding around to cup his arse cheeks.

“Oh for bloody hell,” James snarls, absolutely fed up. He grabs the cup of discarded fat and pours it on the pair of them, making it so they both jump apart in a flash— panting breaths and flushed cheeked and both of the sporting obvious hard ons— even through the layers that Sirius has got on.

“You lot have got eight minutes and thirty five seconds to get it the bloody hell together, change into something respectable and then meet me downstairs,” James instructs, seething and brooking no arguments. “Now disperse damn it!”

They end up fifteen minutes late, and McGonagall just gives James a cool glance above her flute of wine as they scramble to the table, but it’s fine, because James gets to shake Ludo Bagman’s hand and everything while up on stage— Even if Remus and Sirius make a conspicuous retreat to the gents the moment he sits back down and don’t meet up with everyone until after the ceremony ends.

James repeats, bloody blunders.

MY OTHER WOLFSTAR FICS | BUY ME A COFFEE<3

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #JILY #REMUSXSIRIUS #SIRIUSXREMUS #LILY EVANS #JAMES POTTER #LILY EVANS POTTER #MARAUDERS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #HARRY POTTER SERIES #TRULY A REBLOG IS LIKE GIVING A STAR #THANK YOU LOVES

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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

Text

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes // 6

SIX - GHOST

Trigger warning: Alcohol, food, mention of sex (nothing graphic and no actual smut)

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

"You held hands?"

"Mmh."

"And then you cuddled."

"We didn't cuddle, I was just kind of - leaning into him. Sort of."

"So you cuddled!"

"Sure. If that's what you wanna call it. We cuddled."

"Then what?" Robin inquires. Smirking at (Y/N) over the rim of her wine glass, like a giddy pre-teen waiting for the kissing scene to come up in a romance movie.

"And nothing. That's it."

"Oh come oooon. You cozied up to each other and then just what - acted like it never happened?"

"Essentially. But that's okay. It's not a big deal. And don't say it like that."

"Like what?" Robin continues to poke and by this point, it's not so much her wanting information than her trying to rile up (Y/N). Though she's very well aware of this, (Y/N) falls for it anyway.

"Cozied up to each other," (Y/N) says and scrunches her nose up in distaste. "Like we had dirty sex or something."

"Do you want to have dirty sex with him? Oh man, imagine what that arm can do."

Holding her hand out to stop her best friend from talking, (Y/N) takes a big gulp of white wine, emptying her glass. This is a conversation that can't be held entirely sober. "First of all, don't say those things about his arm. It's- I don't know. It doesn't sit right with me."

"Sorry yeah that was … not cool" Robin apologizes and by the tone of her voice (Y/N) can tell she means it.

"I'm the first to admit that Bucky is insanely handsome and if things were different, sure. But we're friends and I really enjoy the time spent together and our friendship. I don't wanna do anything to jeopardize it or ruin it by adding unnecessary feelings to it."

"Feelings aren't unnecessary," Robin replies, combing her fingers through her fiery red curls.

"Sometimes they are. The last thing Bucky and I need is broken hearts and ruined friendships."

"What if it doesn't end that way?"

"Relationships never work out well for me, you know that."

Robin places her glass on the countertop. It means whatever talk is gonna follow, it'll be a serious one. There's been very little need for a serious talk between the girls over the time they've been friends but neither of them has ever been afraid to start those conversations and say things as they are. Sometimes that's what friendship is, being blunt even if it's not what your friend wants to hear.

"Look I'm not saying you have to take the relationship to another level. If this is making you happy the way it is, then that's all that matters to me. I just don't want you to give up on something that could be great, because you're scared and because some stupid assholes in the past didn't realize what they had in you."

Where she's only had shit luck with relationships, (Y/N) thinks she's really lucked out in the friend department. Robin is as wonderful as they come. Even if she drives her crazy sometimes.

"They weren't all assholes." (Y/N) chimes up weakly though there's not even enough determination in her voice to convince herself.

"Weren't they? Let's see ...I'm not even gonna talk about Russel. He doesn't count. Who else was there? Pete liked to show you off but he didn't like you. Did he?"

"Not really."

"See? Asshole! Kylie only wanted to be with you so she could be the cool girl who's fucked another girl once and use that as something to brag to the guys about."

"She was figuring herself out."

"She was straight, babe. She was using you and your sexuality as some kind of badge of honor so guys would think she's cool. She only wanted to make out with you at parties and when there were men around to ogle you. I’m the last person to blame anyone for trying to figure out who they are and who they like but that wasn’t the case here. She used you, and what does that make her?"

“ An asshole? “

“ An asshole!”

“ What about Ricky, he wasn’t an asshole! “ (Y/N) chimes in, filling her glass up once more.

“ Okay sure but he was your High School sweetheart and that rarely lasts. I’m not gonna count him. What about Mike —“

“— Okay, you’ve made your point. I have a bad taste in romantic partners, I get it. Doesn’t change anything. Me and Bucky we’re — we’re good as we are. No romance needed.”

“ Just don’t want you to miss out on something great.”

It’s not that the thought has never crossed her mind. In fact, when she’s being really honest to herself, it swirls around her head a lot. When he grants her one of his smiles. The rare ones that make his eyes crinkle. Or when he comes to see her and brings dog treats for Lady, just because he’s that thoughtful. Or when she noticed he put a popcorn and a sun emoji next to her name in his phone. The popcorn, as he said because she liked movies and the sun because she’s always happy and smiling. Or when he held her hand throughout the entire movie. Those are moments when (Y/N) thinks about what it would be like to be more than friends.

“ It’s great as it is now. He’s great.”

“ Then that’s all that matters to me.” Robin smiles. She has one of those smiles that makes you feel at home. Comfortable and soft. Like warm milk with honey a mom makes their child when they can’t sleep.

It’s a while later, when (Y/N) strolls back into the room, another bottle of wine in hand, that a knock sounds on her front door. Her eyes wander to Robin then to the door then back. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

“ Oh, that’s Bucky.” Robin, who’s by now migrated over to (Y/N)’s huge fluffy couch, Lady cuddled onto her lap, says with the most casual of tones (Y/N) has ever heard. As if Bucky and her have been lifelong friends. As if there is nothing strange or peculiar about this situation.

“ How do you know?”

Robin shrugs and goes back to petting Lady’s curly fur. “ He texted you when you were getting the wine. Said he was around and had food. I told him to come join us for movie night. What’s the big deal? “

“ I uh — it’s not I just — you could’ve told me. “

“ That was literally 5 minutes ago babe. I had no time to tell you yet. By the way, this man uses entirely too many emojis.”

A smile pulls on the corners of (Y/N)’s lips. She’s asked him once why he never used any emojis, or smileys as he called them (all of them — even the ones that aren’t faces). He told her he didn’t really understand when to use most of them, like the shrimp or the Hockey stick. (Y/N) told him it’s because they’re fun. Ever since then he uses all kinds of emojis with her. None really relating to his messages. It’s quite endearing if she’s being honest.

“ Are you gonna let him in? “ Robin asks, shaking (Y/N) out of her thoughts.

The smell of Chinese food floods into the apartment as (Y/N) opens her door to Bucky. He looks so effortlessly cool in his leather jacket and boots. With his hair a little longer now, all swoopy and quiffed. Like the bad boy straight from a romance novel. The one with a heart of gold. The one that gets the girl.

(Y/N) is not that girl, the one from the novels, the Hallmark movies. The one that’s quirky but never weird. The one that makes all the boys fall for her. She’s not the main character, at least according to herself. She’s the side character that shows up like twice. The one that helps the main character on their quest to self-discovery or true love. That’s who she is. Not more, not less.

“ I brought food!” Bucky exclaims as he steps inside, waving the bag around before placing it on the kitchen counter, to which Lady jumps up from her position on Robin’s lap.

Lady, (Y/N) has realized a while ago, has somehow fallen head over paws in love with Bucky. Always following him, looking up at him with her big brown puppy eyes. Always looking to be close to him. Maybe, (Y/N) thinks, it’s the treats he always carries around. But maybe it’s Bucky too and his patience and his affection and the way he greets the little dog like she’s the main reason he’s come around.

Moments like this, they come with those little flutters around the heart. People always compare them to butterflies. (Y/N) thinks that’s wrong. Butterflies are gentle, graceful, and soft. This feels like a swarm of bees. Chaotic. Overwhelming. A little bit scary.

“ Man, did you plan on coming here, or did you buy all this for yourself?” Robin asks, eyes wide in surprise at the sheer amount of styrofoam containers Bucky keeps pulling from the bags.

“ I kind of bought it with the intention of sharing, yeah. “

Robin’s eyes meet (Y/N)’s across the room and there's a silent secret there, hidden in her teasing smirk. One shared only with a friend. No words. No sounds. Just the truth and two knowing hearts connecting.

“ Am I intruding? If you guys want me to leave, I can leave. “

While he tries to keep his voice casual, the sad tint doesn’t get lost on (Y/N).

“ Absolutely not, don’t be silly. We’re just drinking wine and watching a movie and you are free to join us in both.”

While he shakes his head at her offer of wine, Bucky helps (Y/N) bring the food over to the couch and plops down in the middle of the couch, Robin to his right and (Y/N) on his left.

“ What are we watching? “ he asks, a dumpling already on the way into his mouth.

“ Well, “ Robin responds filling her glass up once more, “ it was (Y/N)’s turn to chose so —”

“ A rom-com”

“ A rom-com. “

Something about seeing these two interact and joke around inspires a fuzzy feeling to wrap itself around (Y/N)’s heart. Even if they’re making fun of her.

The way Bucky fits in here, as if it’s where he’s always belonged. The way he’s not a stranger imposing but a friend added to the mix. It’s a nice feeling. She hopes he feels it too.

“ Okay, whatever. This isn’t your usual rom-com though, there are ghosts in this one. “

“ Is it ghosts falling in love?” Robin asks and lets her laugh get swallowed by her wine glass.

“ No. Well — uh kinda but not really. They fall in love be — you know what, just start the damn movie! “

There’s an undeniable intimacy in watching your favorite movies with other people. It’s like giving away little pieces of yourself and sharing them with others. No matter how insignificant it may seem to anyone else but you. These are the things that make us who we are. Our passions. For art. For music. For books. For movies. And opening up is always scary. Even if it’s just a teeny tiny bit.

Through the corner of her eye (Y/N) glances at Bucky and Robin, trying to judge their reactions. See if they’re enjoying themselves or not. Bucky displays his ever-present scowl. It’s the default setting. Sometimes she wonders if that has always been the case. If that's just what he looks like or if years of abuse, horror, pain have left their marks on him, on not only his heart but also his face.

Maybe this can be his safe place, she thinks. Maybe she can be. Not someone to fix him, because he’s not broken, just lost. Not to fix but to hold his hand while he heals. Slowly but surely.

For a while, the three sit in comfortable silence. The kind that fills you with this inexplicable calm. Where no words are needed.

And then the beginning chords of unchained melody spill from the tv speakers. It’s a touch there, a kiss here, hands covered in clay. Bodies covered in clay. Gasps and heavy breathing. Hands grasping skin, wandering, loving.

Robin’s presence falls completely to the back of (Y/N)’s mind. Bucky’s however...

“Do you want to have dirty sex with him? “ her friend's words ghost through her head like a particularly annoying jingle for some tv ad. The room feels warm all of a sudden. Not warm — boiling. There’s a heat radiating from her right, from Bucky. So what if he’s attractive. So what if she sometimes lets her mind wander and think about how his hands would feel on her skin or his lips on hers or his — yeah okay you get the point. So what?

Bucky slumps down into the couch a little more with every second of steamy pottery sex that’s fluttering across the tv screen. Is he — nervous? Uncomfortable ? No, she must be imagining it. Projecting, that’s what this is. She’s projecting her own chaotic emotional state onto him. There’s nothing there. (Y/N) has to remind herself. Just secret little thoughts that have to be kept between her and her. As long as no one knows, no one gets hurt. It’s the easy way out. The safe way. The right way.

Right?

“ Sooo, what did you guys think?” (Y/N) asks, turning her body towards her friends and sitting criss-cross on the couch.

“ Didn’t expect all the murder. “ Bucky replies as he takes a sip from his beer. “ And the — “

“ The messy sex! I know.” a visibly intoxicated Robin cuts in.

“ Not where I was going but okay.”

She doesn’t pay his words any attention, instead of launching herself backwards over the arm of the couch, dramatically fanning herself with her perfectly manicured hand. “ I am not going to lie, oh boy that was some hot stuff. Wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Oh please,” (Y/N) chimes in, wine glass clutched in hand and smile on her face. She can clearly feel the alcohol washing through her system bringing her to the place between sober and drunk where everything feels light and your confidence seems to get a little extra boost. “ What do you have to complain about? You’re getting married in two weeks! I’m sure you get enough action as it is. “

Robin doesn’t answer right away, just throws (Y/N) a giddy, boozed-up smile. Though in her eyes, there’s a loved-up glimmer of someone about to marry the love of their life.

“ Yeah, that’s true.”

“See, so you’re not the one that should be complaining. Us, however…”

Her red curls swing around her like a spark of fire as Robin sits up again, pointing her finger at (Y/N).

“ And whose fault is that? You could be getting some if you didn’t get so lost in your romantic fantasies. And him — “ the red-haired girl exclaims before pointing her finger towards Bucky “ don’t even tell me he ain’t getting some. Look at him! Are you sexually active, Bucky? “

“ You don’t have to answer that. Robin, come on.”

“ No, you don’t have to but you should. I’m trying to prove a point. Help me prove a point, Bucky. “

“ You’re making him uncomfortable. “

“ Am I making him uncomfortable or you? “

“ Ooookay, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. “

“ Nooo, we’re having a conversation. “

“ Would you look at that, my drink is empty. I’m just gonna — I’m gonna get another one. Okay? Okay.”

Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer before getting up and rushing out of the living room and into the kitchen, clearly uncomfortable. Clearly embarrassed.

“ See what you did? You scared him off. “

“ I couldn’t scare that man off if I tried. Trust me. “ Robin murmurs, a loud yawn cutting through her argument. There’s a certain determination in her words though. Some truth hidden in there that (Y/N) can’t quite put her finger on. It’s like Robin knows something she doesn’t. And maybe it’s good this way. Maybe she doesn’t need to know.

“ Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, Tipsy. I’ll go see what he’s up to. You go the fuck to sleep.”

“ Whatever mom, “ Robin bickers and cuddles closer into the soft couch anyway. “ Oh, don’t forget to invite him! I like him. We’re friends now. “

“ Go to sleep! “ (Y/N) orders again, earning herself a salute from her best friend who starts snoring no more than 2 seconds later.

He feels like a 13-year-old. Actually — no. Things were easier at 13. Situations like this one were easier at 13. Being horny was easier at 13.

It was all new to him then, yes, but it was new for everyone at 13. He’s 106 now, a grown man. He should be able to talk or at least think about these things without turning into a full-blown mess. His hand is clammy, his face is probably the same shade of bright red as Robin’s hair. And by god, his thoughts are a jumbled mess, swirling around all over the place.

Truth be told, he hasn’t had a lot of time to actually think about anything even remotely physical. It was never very high on his list of things to figure out and the opportunity hasn’t really presented itself to him either. Not since the 1940s at least.

Have things changed? Surely not, right? Maybe people got a bit more experimental and for sure they talk more openly about it now but the fundamentals must have stayed the same. He sure hopes so at least.

His thoughts get interrupted as (Y/N) steps into the kitchen. Her eyes are slightly glassed over from the wine though she’s nowhere near as drunk as Robin. She seems happy, then again she always does. For a little moment, he feels jealousy wash over him. About being able to get drunk. It’s damn stupid, he’s well aware. But that doesn’t make his feelings less valid. To just drink and let go and forget, that sounds really nice.

But that’s just one of the things the serum has taken from him. By far not the worst aspect of it all but unpleasant either way.

“ Hey uh — you okay? “ she asks leaning against the kitchen island across from him.

“ Sure. Are you? “

“ I uh — might be a little drunk, “ (Y/N) confesses as she lifts her hand and indicates a tiny space with her fingers.

“ Yeah, I think you might be.” Bucky laughs. Actually laughing comes naturally when she’s around and quite honestly, at first, it made him feel guilty. Guilty about the fact that he got to laugh along with a pretty girl while so many people had to die through his hands.

He tries to push those thoughts away. They aren’t doing anyone any good. Not him and not those people either.

“ Hey, I’m sorry she was making you uncomfortable. She gets — well she has no filter when drunk. Or ever really.”

Bucky shakes his head. His finger nervously trails along the grain of the stone countertop. There are conversations he needs to have, sooner or later, if he wants to live his life. Not just coast along but actually live. But it doesn’t mean those come easy. Not for someone who’s been through all he’s been through. Not for someone who’s grown up the way he has, who’s been raised the way he has.

“ Ah, no. Don’t worry. I uh — I just. It’s been a long time since I had talks like this. “

“ Like what? “

“ Between friends, you know. About — stuff. “

“ About sex? “

“ Mmh. “

“ You don’t have to talk about it with us if you don’t want to. It’s fine. “

“ No, but I do want to talk about sex with you. I mean — not you, you. You both. But not in a weird way. I mean — with friends. “

“ Okay. “

“ It’s just that I was raised in different times and the last time I had a real actual friend that I talked to about intimate things was so long ago. Steve and I talked about everything and even then there used to be reservations. One because I don’t think Steve really wanted details and two because Steve wasn’t — he didn’t have the most experience when it came to women so it was a very one-sided conversation. And I’ve never talked about any of this with a girl. It’s all new to me but I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you. “

(Y/N) regards him with a glimmer of amusement and mischief in her eyes as she munches away on some cold leftover spring rolls.

“ You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Buck. I know you trust me, I hope you know I trust you. “

He does. And he doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him Buck.

“ So, Robin and Charlie are getting married in two weeks. I was wondering if you’d like to be my plus one. Back when they announced it I was under the impression Russel and I would be a thing by then but uh — clearly that didn’t happen. It’s in upstate New York. We’re all gonna stay at this gorgeous Inn and well there’s a spot open if you want it.”

“ As a plus one? “

No matter how much he wants to deny it to himself, his heart does a little flutter as she says those words. A plus one sounds like something. He’s not sure what but something, surely.

“ Yeah, as a friend, obviously. “

“ Obviously. “

There goes the flutter.

“ Robin is okay with it by the way. She explicitly told me to ask you.”

“ So Robin wants me there, not you. “

“ No! I want you there! I love spending time with you. Also, Robin’s family is crazy. I need you by my side. I need you there. I want you there. “

“The need to be needed is an individual’s sense of significance rooted in the sense of being part of a community or cause beyond themselves. The need to be needed is one of our fundamental desires. We want to feel significant in the eyes of others, even if it is only one other person. “

Bucky has read those words in one of the many magazines stacked on the little side table in the waiting room of Dr. Raynor's office. They didn’t really make much sense to him then. He always thought he’d be fine by himself.

In that moment he realizes that was all a big pile of absolute bullshit.

The feeling of being wanted, of being needed, even if it’s just one person that needs him, that means everything.

“ Okay, I’ll come. “

“ Yeah? “

And there it is again, the smile that reminds him of the sun. The smile that he’s sure could bring a thousand men to their knees, including himself.

“ Cool. I’m — I’m really happy about that. “

“ Mmh. Me too. “

For a moment they just look at each other, words unspoken swirling in the air between them, neither brave enough to let them slip from their tongue.

It’s not until a particularly loud snore coming from the living room pops the bubble and breaks the spell.

Both of them fall into giggles before Bucky speaks up again.

“ It's late I should probably go. “

“ Yeah and I should go to bed. I’ll have a hangover tomorrow for sure.”

Bucky slips into his leather jacket and places a soft kiss goodbye on Lady’s head before turning back to (Y/N).

“ For the record, I’m not getting any. “

“ I uh — okay. Good. Well not good, “ (Y/N) stumbles over her words “ not good for you. Good for me. I mean. Not that I don’t want you to have sex. But I mean, Robin was taking the piss, and if I don’t get laid it makes me feel better to know you aren’t either. Oh god, this sounds horrible. I’m just gonna stop talking now. “

Bucky smiles the brightest smile she’s ever seen him smile, it almost breaks his face in two. And even though she wants the ground to swallow her whole right then, if it puts a smile like that on his face, she’ll gratefully embarrass herself again.

“ Have a good night, (Y/N). “

“ You too, Bucky”

And with a kiss to her head, he leaves the flat, a smile staying on his lips the entire way home.

“ Why did I have to come again? This is a bachelorette party, I thought men aren’t allowed. “ Bucky grumbles as (Y/N) parks her truck in the parking lot of the convenience store. The pink and blue neon lights reflect on the wet asphalt.

“ It’s a shared party. We’re all friends so it makes sense for the couple to celebrate together. Stop moaning. “ (Y/N) exclaims as her heels create a click-clack sound.

The store is empty as they enter except for the bored-looking teenager leaning against the counter by the cash register.

There’s something about empty stores at night that makes it feel like time stands still. Like for a moment, reality is altered. There’s only you and the outdated music coming from the speakers and the hum of the refrigerators holding the soda cans.

“ I can’t believe Hannah forgot to bake the cake. It’s all she had to do. I did everything else, everything. She had one job. “

Bucky’s learned by now to just let her rant about this topic. It’s all she’s talked about for the last hours since Hannah, public enemy number one that day, has called her to inform her she’s forgotten about the cake. Why there needs to be a cake at this party, Bucky doesn’t know but hey, who is he to question it.

(Y/N) walks straight over to the counter that holds the bakery items only to be met with disappointment.

“ Well great. We can choose between one single cupcake, a box of stale donuts, and a croissant. “

“ What about this one? “ Bucky asks and points towards a bright pink cake decorated with candy roses and white icing.

“ It says Happy Birthday. “

“ Ah, don’t worry we can fix that.”

(Y/N) raises her eyebrows in doubt. “ You sure? “

“ 100%. Trust me. “

She regards him for a moment, uncertainty shining through, before granting him a little smile and a nod. “ Okay then. You get the cake, I’ll be over there for a second. “

Looking through the fridges, (Y/N)’s eyes fall onto a pack of popsicles in the shape of Captain America’s shield.

Ripping open the fridge door she calls out “ Hey Grumpy, would you like thes— “

All she hears is a smack and then Bucky’s voice exclaiming a loud “Fuck!”

And in that moment she doesn’t know what’s more shocking, the fact that she just slammed the door right into his face or hearing him swear.

“ Are you okay? I’m so sorry. “

“ I’ll be fine.”

“ We gotta put ice on it. “

“ No (Y/N) I — “

She’s already on her way to get a pack of frozen peas. And if Bucky is being real honest, his cheek does hurt quite a bit. Super Soldier Serum and all …

“ I am genuinely so sorry. “

Bucky sits on the bed of (Y/N)’s truck, frozen peas pressed to his face and a chuckle falling from his lips as (Y/N) sends yet another apology his way.

“ It’s okay, (Y/N). I told you, I’m fine. “

He pulls the peas away from his face and places them next to him, before picking up the cake and lifting the plastic lid off of the container.

“ Alright, let’s see if I can fix this. “

“ You have a bruise on your cheek. “

Bucky looks up at her with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, that (Y/N) sometimes finds herself drowning in. Calm and story all at once. Like oceans.

“ Does it make me look rough and handsome? “

“ You’re always handsome. But yes, it gives you a roguish charm. “

“ Good. “

(Y/N) feels a heat rush to her face as Bucky focuses back on the cake.

“ Mmmkay. Let me see. What if we — “ Bucky murmurs, more to himself than to (Y/N). He swipes his finger, sans glove, over the white icing letters and while there’s a good intention there, when he lifts his finger back up the cake looks like a downright mess.

“ Ta-da “ he exclaims and turns the cake towards her.

“ It says Happy day now “

“ Is it not a happy day? “ Bucky asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“ Let me rephrase that. It says ‘Happy messy white stain Day’ “

Bucky pulls his lips into a grimace, eyes wandering from (Y/N) down to the cake and back to her. “ Yeah, we can’t bring that “.

Laughter fills the air as they regard the sad mess of a cake before them. If this was a movie, (Y/N) thinks, this would be their moment. The one where they realize. The one that feels like time stops and all that matters is them.

Something wet and sticky against her cheek pulls her from her daydream.

“ What the hell? “

Bucky only grins at her. There’s the boyish charm again. It’s so insanely endearing to see these little moments flare up and push through the perpetual gloom he seems to carry with him. He doesn't hold the weight of 90 years of fighting on his shoulders right then.

“ Oh you didn’t “

Before Bucky can react she grabs a handful of the cake and smashes it against the uninjured side of his face.

“ Is that how you wanna play it? Okay. Fine. “

Cake flies through the air as their laughter rings through the night. Not a thought wasted on pain, on worries, on heartbreak.

The rooftop bar (Y/N) booked specifically for this night is covered in fairy lights and glitter decor. There’s a karaoke machine in one corner and an open bar in the other.

A loud cheer sounds from the crowd as Robin steps out into the open, fingers intertwined with those of a petite brunette with big square glasses sitting on her nose.

They get swallowed by a tidal wave of people, pulled from one hug into another, and while his eyes stay with them, Bucky feels a touch against his metal arm. (Y/N) wraps herself around him leans her head against his shoulder and stares lovingly at the couple before them.

“ I’m so glad she’s happy. I love her so much. “

“ She loves you too. “ he says.

And really how could anyone not?

A little while later, when the crowd has allowed them to breathe again, Robin and the brunette wander towards Bucky and (Y/N), matching smiles on their faces.

“ Buck, this is Charlie, Robin’s fiancee. Charlie, this is my friend Bucky. “

“ It’s so nice to meet you,” Charlie exclaims, a strong English accent dripping from her words. “ What in the world happened to your face? Are you okay? “

While Bucky smirks, (Y/N) flinches at those words and shrinks into herself a little.

“ Oh you know, funny story. Someone here was a little too excited about some red white and blue popsicles. “

Robin lets out a loud laugh “ Now that sounds like someone I know very well. “

“ They were shaped like Cap’s shield, okay. I thought it was funny and fitting. “

Charlie’s eyes move between the 3, a look of confusion settling on her features.

“ Why fitting? “

“ Oh babe, let me catch you up,” Robin says and steers Charlie in the direction of the bar.

The night flies by and for the first time in so long, Bucky doesn’t feel out of place. Not for a single moment. Even being surrounded by people he doesn’t know and while listening to music he doesn’t get. It’s nice, feeling like you belong.

Robin and Charlie have just finished their karaoke rendition of Don’t Stop Believing when a familiar voice echoes from the speakers.

“ Hello guys, my name is (Y/N). You may know me, I’m the maid of honor. I am responsible for this party — you’re welcome. Anyway, I guess it’s my turn to sing tonight but I can’t do this one alone. I’m gonna require my friend, Mr. James Buchanan Barnes up on this very stage with me. “

Oh no. Definitely no. Not in a million years. No w—

“ Because this one’s a duett. “

Her eyes meet his across the way, shining with amusement, mischief, affection. Even across the dimly lit roof, her sunshine smile seems to light up the entire night.

“ I’m not doing it, “ Bucky says and shakes his head as Robin slides up to his side.

“ C’moooon. “

“ Nope. I probably don’t even know the song. “

It’s like the universe wants to make a fool of him as in just that moment Bill Medley’s voice sounds through the night.

“ I know you know this song. “ Robin says and nudges his side “ come on don’t make her do this by herself. “

“ I — “ he looks at (Y/N) again, with her sunshine smile and those expressive eyes and the buttercream stain on her shirt. And he doesn’t see fear or pain or regret. All he ever sees when he looks at her is happiness and fun and laughter.

“ Ugh. Okay. Alright. “

Cheers follow him as he steps on stage and (Y/N) hands him the second mic. Though it’s supposed to be a duett, (Y/N) doesn’t really care and sings both parts with unfiltered joy and unapologetic passion. And while it takes a moment for him to warm up to it, Bucky can’t help but let her enthusiasm light a spark in him too and by the time the pre-chorus hits he joins her in singing their hearts out.

“ You're the one thing I can't get enough of. So I'll tell you something. This could be looooooove “

New York comes alive with the promise of a better tomorrow. One where Bucky feels like he belongs. To a place or a group of friends or a person. A tomorrow where he can laugh with a pretty girl, have food fights in a parking lot, and sing some silly song at the top of his lungs.

Maybe the song isn’t all wrong. Maybe he’s having the time of his life. And maybe, just maybe, he owes it to (Y/N).

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#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter solider fanfiction #winter soldier x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #marvel imagine #tfatws imagine #james barnes x reader

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jehbeeeh · 3 years

Text

Sweet on You

A silly little ficlet filled with happy domestic fluff. Hope you enjoy!

(Also on AO3!)

~~~~~

“What are you doing hiding in the pantry?”

Tony just waved frantically – an odd mix that meant get in here and shut the door, that was only logical to someone after decades of knowing each together.

“Are you sneaking cookies?” Steve asked as he closed the pantry door behind him as quietly as he could.

“Yesh I ‘m,” Tony answered around a mouthful of Chunky Chips Ahoy.

“We just told Morgan it was almost dinner time,” Steve teased as he reached inside the package himself. “We are being very bad examples right now.”

“That’s why I was trying to hide. She'll get suspicious once she realizes we're both missing.” Tony waggled his eyebrows before grabbing another cookie. “This is basically the parental equivalent of Pull and Pray.”

Steve tried to contain a laugh that definitely would have given away their location. “You're ridiculous.”

“It's true though. Pull out the bag of cookies and pray no one catches you before you can eat at least one.” Tony popped the last bite in his mouth just as the door opened.

“What are you guys doing in there?”

Steve turned quickly, trying to hide Tony, and the bag of cookies, behind him. “We weren't doing anything,” he answered too quickly not to sound guilty of something.

“I don’t believe you,” Morgan answered, crossing her arms in front of her and leveling Captain America with a glare. Tony would never get tired of seeing her do that.

“I… just… really wanted to kiss your dad,” Steve finally blurted out, nodding his head as if to convince himself. Tony's forehead landed between his shoulder blades and Steve could feel the warm puffs of air as Tony tried to contain his own laughter now. “You're always saying it's gross. I was trying to spare you.”

Morgan narrowed her gaze on Steve, and he swallowed loudly. Tony snorted against his back. “Dad? Is that true?”

Tony cleared his throat and poked his head out from behind Steve. “I promise it's the truth, baby girl. And, being in here reminded me-" he reached for a blue box he knew would make Morgan forget all about the current situation, “want some mac and cheese for dinner? You can even put ketchup on it.”

Morgan's eyes lit up as Tony shook the box over Steve’s other shoulder, the cookies safely hidden still. “Do we have Pogos too?”

“Yes! I just bought some this week,” Steve added.

“Don't tell mom though,” Tony reminded her, knowing full well he'd be the one to text her the information before Morgan even went back to her. If anyone would understand a sudden need to sneak cookies, it was Pepper.

Morgan made a zipping movement on her lips and left them after making them both promise to finish with the gross kissing so they could eat.

Steve let out a long breath and Tony laughed quietly. “Nice save, Captain.”

Before Steve could answer, the door opened again.

“I hear we're smuggling cookies before dinner?” Peter asked, a hand stretched out in front of him.

“We are doing no such thing,” Steve answered.

“When have you two ever hidden to kiss? In front of anyone! I saw you two kiss in the middle of a battle once, which by the way, is really weird watching Captain America kissing the Iron Man armour.”

The kid did have a point.

“You tell her that's what we were doing, and you’ll think the Training Wheels protocol on your suit was the best thing in existence,” Tony threatened lightly as he handed over a cookie.

Peter popped the whole thing in his mouth before grabbing three boxes of Annie's mac and cheese. “I’ll start on dinner.”

They both thanked him as he closed the door. They looked at each other and couldn’t contain their laughter anymore.

Steve turned so he could face Tony. He took the cookies and placed them back on the shelf Morgan couldn’t reach before wrapping his arms around Tony's waist. He pulled him in and kissed him, peppering his face with soft pecks, making Tony smile.

“Couldn't stand having lied to Morgan, huh?”

“Maybe,” Steve replied slowly. “But we are here, alone. Might as well take advantage of it. And, you have chocolate right here-" Steve kissed the corner of his mouth. “Couldn’t risk Morgan seeing that.”

Tony’s smile broadened as he cupped Steve's face in his hand and pulled him in for another kiss that was turning maybe a bit more heated than either of them expected.

“Mr. Stark, I can't find the bo- Woah!” Peter exclaimed as he opened the door once again.

“What's happening,” Morgan called out as she ran into the pantry. “Ew, gross!”

“Steve told you that's what we were doing. Don’t act so surprised,” Tony called out at his daughter's appalled face.

“Okay, everyone out of the pantry,” Steve announced. He kissed the side of Tony's head, earning him more groans and complaints. He picked Morgan up and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek, making her giggle.

“I’ll go grab the box of Pogos, Pete. You'd think the superpowers would make it easier to find things right in front of your nose.”

The four of them kept bantering as they exited the pantry, and Tony couldn’t help but smile at how perfect their ridiculous little family was.

#jehbeeeh writes fluff #stony fluff #stony fanfic #superfamily #stevetony #Steve Rogers x Tony Stark #jehbeeeh writes

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actuallybarb · 3 years

Text

The Aftermath ~ Part 6

Summary: y/n does nothing to discourage morgan stark from swearing, senior year officially starts, and y/n never considered herself stiles but when peter is lydia she’s alright with it

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, y/n fixing everyone’s problems, trauma

Word Count: 3023

A/N: shit shit shit i love it i’m here for it i shamelessly stole it from Teen Wolf

///////////

I stayed at the compound that weekend, working with FRIDAY and Pepper to get the rest of the footage salvaged and try to clear Spider-Man’s name.

“‘Morning, FRIDAY,” I yawned out as I slipped back into the desk chair in the lab Friday morning. “Any progress on the footage from EDITH?”

“We got footage from the bridge, but it doesn’t look too good for Peter.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Show me.”

I sipped Sokovian tea (Wanda was a genius with tea leaves) as I played the footage over and over again. “Of course it doesn’t look good for Peter, it’s his face.” Peter’s face was telling EDITH to stop all of the drones. But the whole point was so Spider-Man wouldn’t get charged with murder, not proving his true identity. “Well shit.”

“Shit.” I turned in my chair and saw Morgan Stark at the door, a proud grin on her face.

Pepper had brought Morgan by last weekend and she and I had become fast friends. After nearly losing her mind over where her daughter was, Pepper found Morgan happily chasing mini tornadoes I made in the training room. After that, she would ask FRIDAY for periodic updates, but mostly Morgan and I got to run free around the compound.

I pointed a finger at her. “I refuse to be blamed for your foul mouth, got it?” She nodded then ran over and climbed onto my lap, looking at the videos.

“Peter?”

“Yup. And that’s the problem.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“Because in this moment we needed him to have his mask on.”

“But he doesn’t.��

“Now you see the problem.”

“Why can’t we just put his mask on him?”

“Because, Young Stark, that would be considered tampering, and would completely nullify the evidence in a courtroom.”

“So Peter’s stuck being Peter?”

“Peter’s stuck being Peter.”

“Shit.”

“Shit is right.” I looked at her sternly. “No swearing in front of Pepper, got it?” I stuck out my pinky and she wrapped her tiny one around it, squeezing hard. “Let me just email your mom about this, then we can go on an adventure, okay?”

The email took twenty seconds, then Morgan and I were racing through the compound, brushing past anyone who got in our way. We had just turned down an unexplored hallway when we heard sniffles. I screeched to a stop. “Wait right here, Morgan.” One tap of my foot and I ‘saw’ them in a coat closet. And I was pretty sure I already knew who it was. I knocked very lightly on the door. “Peter?”

There was a lot of shuffling, then silence. “Who is it?”

“Y/N.” Morgan stomped her foot. “And Morgan.”

“Oh. Hey, guys.”

“Can I open the door?”

Before he even answered I could tell he was uncomfortable. His heart rate picked up and his fingers started tapping on his knee.

“Hey, Morgan. I’m going to talk to Peter for a little bit. Can you find Wanda until I get back? We can go on our adventure after.” She looked between me and the closet before nodding, running off the same way we came. “Keep an eye on her, FRI.”

Then I opened the door.

How I managed to squeeze inside that closet with Peter already in it was an absolute mystery to me, but I eventually closed the door on myself and let the space be dark.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s up?”

“Not much.”

“Really? That’s good news.”

“Yup, just peachy.”

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Why are you crying in a closet, then?”

“Oh, you know, just…” He stayed silent.

I nudged his knee with mine. “Talk to me, Pete. It’s just us.”

He sniffled again. “MJ called. She - she, uh. She said— She can’t be with me right now.”

“She broke up with you?” I couldn’t believe my ears. Was I excited? Disappointed? I wouldn’t know.

“She said, with all of this Mysterio stuff still going on, it’s best if we’re not together.” His head dropped to his knees. ”School starts in four days, Y/N. How am I going to face her? How am I going to face anyone?”

His voice and my heart cracked at the end of his sentence. “I don’t know.” I stretched my hand forward and held onto his forearm, slowly running my thumb back and forth. “I’ll be there. Ned will be there. I’ll happily hit anyone in the face who says anything to you.”

He snorted. “You wouldn’t.”

“You weren’t there when I punched Flash.”

His head shot up. “You punched Flash?”

“You see what you miss when you get stopped at the airport?”

He laughed. “That stupid banana.”

I smiled and leaned back, letting my hand fall from his arm. “Have you called Ned?”

He stiffened slightly. “A couple days ago.”

“You should call him. Now you guys have something else in common.” His eyebrows scrunched together. “You both have had girlfriends and broken up with them in the same summer.” He visibly cringed. “Too soon, sorry.” I ended up in a squatting position, one hand on the knob. I grabbed his arm and gave it a small squeeze. “You’re going to be okay, Peter.”

I probably shouldn’t have left him in the closet, but I had a call to make.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“What the fuck, MJ?”

“What?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You broke up with Peter?”

Did I want Peter to be single so I could eventually shoot my shot? Yes. But not like this.

I found a different closet to hide in, pushing myself as far against the wall as possible and hopefully muffling my voice enough no one could hear me.

“You’ve seen everything on the news, Y/N. Spider-Man’s identity revealed, then Spider-Man killing Mysterio, it’s- it’s-“

“You know it’s not true. You know Peter’s Spider-Man and you know he would never hurt a fly, let alone kill Beck, no matter how hurt he was. Beck tried to kill you, and you’re punishing Peter for this?”

“I don’t know what to think! All of this shit about holograms and hallucinations, I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t. You saw how real that Elemental looked in Prague, you can’t say you’re not a little bit freaked out about this.”

”No, I can’t, but I can’t say that breaking your trust with Peter is the best option right now either.”

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the line. “Take care of him, Y/N. You get him and all of this superhero shit more than I ever will.”

Then she hung up.

She hung up.

Take care of him? What did she think I was doing, huh? What have I been doing this whole time?

I left the closet and made my way to the living room, ready for a six year old distraction. “Morgan?”

“Y/N!” She was sitting beside Peter on the couch, the afternoon sun filtering through her long eyelashes. “Come watch a movie with us.”

“How ‘bout some lunch first?”

“How about lunch and a movie?”

I laughed. “You’re convincing, I’ll give you that. Chicken nuggets?”

“Yeah!”

“Peter, chicken nuggets?”

“Sure.”

Morgan picked Disney movie after Disney movie, her attention never wavering. Once the sun went down, though, my eyes were getting heavy. After so many days of no sleep, my body insisted darkness meant it was time for bed. We were on movie number 4 (Sleeping Beauty, go figure) when my eyes couldn’t stay open. Before I knew it, my breathing had evened out and I only saw the insides of my eyelids.

I woke up the next morning on one of the most comfortable pillows I had ever had, which was saying a lot, ‘cause I had one of those memory foam ones. I could’ve slept on it forever, but then it shifted around and my neck got squished, and—

Wait.

Is this thing moving?

I opened my eyes, and sure enough, it was. I just so happened to be using the legs of none other than Peter Parker for a pillow. How I ended up like that, I have no idea, but my heart was in my throat the second I realized it.

It’s like I was frozen. (I had accidentally frozen myself on more than one occasion, it’s about as fun as you think it would be.) I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, all I could do was watch his chest move as he inhaled. It slowly started to move faster until I could feel his heart rate speeding up, and I knew something was wrong.

“Peter?” I sat up and turned to face him, one hand moving to his shoulder. “Wake up, Peter.” I shook him probably a little too harshly and he started awake, his eyes wild. “Hey.”

“Are you real?”

A nightmare. No wonder he was freaking out, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Yeah, I’m real.”

“Can- Can you prove it?” He saw the flash of distrust in my eyes and backtracked instantly. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s fine, Pete. Seriously.” He didn’t look like he believed me, so I had to think of something quick that would prove I was real. “Last night, we watched Sleeping Beauty, ‘cause it was Morgan’s fourth request, and you were actually really excited to watch it because you’d never seen it before, and so it starts and you were out in the first fifteen minutes.”

“Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself? Because you were asleep way before I was.”

“You woke up, sure, but you definitely fell asleep before I did.”

He smiled and leaned his head back, but it eventually dropped. He looked at me and asked quietly, “How can you tell? What’s real and what isn’t?”

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when I answered. “The bending. People move a specific way, even just how they walk and how they stand, and it can’t be mimicked. Beck tried it, he tried to make himself look like you, but it just felt wrong. Everything is slightly off when what I’m seeing isn’t reality.”

He grumbled, “Wish I could do that.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “You can, Peter. You already have half of it down, you just have to pay attention to it.”

“What do you mean?” He was fully sitting up at this point, his entire body engaged in my every word.

“You have heightened senses, right? Which makes the hallucinations ten times worse for you.” He nodded. “You can use those to your advantage. Heartbeats, footsteps, shifts in the dirt, they’re all jumbled together until you can differentiate between people. It takes a lot of concentration and time, but it eventually becomes second nature.” I was tapping the cushion with every other finger, a trick I picked up from my shrink after The Blip first happened. It used to be a coping mechanism, now it’s just a habit when I zone out.

“Can you teach me?”

His eyes were bright. How could I say no to him when he was looking at me like that? You did, Y/N, like three weeks ago. Okay, but those were life-threatening circumstances. This is different.

“Sure. But not today.” I stood up and stretched completely, then checked the time on the oven. Seven twenty-seven. I could get home just after eight if I left right now.

I made it at eight, right on the dot.

////////////

Stepping off the subway, I knew school was going to be rough. Not just that day, but the week, the month, the semester, the year. Senior year was supposed to be enjoyable, right? After the last few disasters Mr. Harrington has been apart of on his school trips, they all but banned us from going on any more of them. Not that I really minded, except for the senior trip we were supposed to have right after graduation. Summer was exciting enough for a lifetime, I didn’t need any more repeats of that.

I walked into the building, headphones in but no music playing. There was Brad, leaning against the locker of some poor unassuming junior. Flash, his camera on, documenting the last first day of high school. MJ, her own pair of headphones in, made eye contact with me briefly, then looked down at her phone again just as fast. Peter and Ned, slightly more solemn than usual, standing at their lockers, comparing class schedules.

My locker was only a few down from them, so I said hello before passing by, the three-number code learned by heart.

I sensed Peter and Ned before I ever heard them. “If I concentrate any harder on these footsteps I’m going to lose my mind.” He had texted me all weekend asking about how to learn movement patterns and footsteps, so he was obviously practicing my tips.

I laughed. “Yeah, duh, Peter, even I don’t know what everyone moves like. The trick is to learn the people you’re close to, then learn to pick them out of a crowd. Start with someone you see a lot of, who you’re familiar with, then work from there.”

“Ooh.”

I looked over at Ned. “How was the rest of your summer, Ned? Any more girlfriends?”

“No, I’m still a bachelor. I think I’ll stay this way for a while - strong independent man who doesn’t need a woman. But, I mean, if someone comes along, it’s not like I’ll say no.”

“I respect the hustle. Don’t tie yourself down, Ned.”

“Thank you, Y/N, I really appreciate that.” The bell rang and he looked down at his schedule. “I have physics, I’ll see you guys later.”

“What do you have?”

I looked at my own schedule, nearly running into someone as we walked through the hall. “Spanish. You?”

“Spanish.” I grabbed his sheet of paper and compared them.

“No fucking way.” We had every single class together.

Every.

Single.

Class.

Pepper.

“What is it?”

“We have every class together.”

“No way.” He grabbed the papers from my hands and looked over them himself. “The chances of this happening are—“

“Minuscule.”

He just shrugged it off. “Nice to have a familiar face in the crowd.”

I shot Pepper a quick text before we walked into Spanish.

Really, you have us in every class together?

I’m worried about him, Y/N. Frankly, I’m worried about you, too. Just keep an eye out for each other, okay?

Yeah yeah sure.

This school year just got a whole lot more interesting.

/////////

I guess I could consider Flash a friend. He was nice enough not to post the video he had of me being an Elemental and he let me use his shoulder as a pillow on the flight home. The only communication we had over the rest of the summer was me commenting something on his Instagram story and him replying. So I was a little surprised when he took a seat beside me in chemistry, but not disappointed.

“Do you and Parker have every class together?”

“Yup.”

“Shit that sucks.”

“He’s alright, Eugene, maybe one day you’ll realize that.”

“I can’t believe Mysterio tried to say Parker was Spider-Man. I mean, can you think of a less-likely candidate?”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop insulting my friends, Eugene, or I’ll make you move seats and do this class on your own.”

He shut up for a little bit, but when we got a review sheet to do that went over all of last year’s class, he started whispering. “Are you still, you know, turning into monsters and knocking people into rivers?” He hissed in pain as my foot connected with his shin. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no.”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” I whispered.

“It was fucking badass, Y/N.” Another hiss of pain.

“People died, Eugene. Do you not get that? People died because of me. All of the people in our trip could have died and it would have been my fault.” The bell rang and I nearly sprinted out of the class.

My heart was beating too fast, my breathing was too shallow. I knew those were a bad combination, but I couldn’t stop. The room was spinning and I couldn’t feel the ground underneath me and holy shit am I falling?

Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me through a door, and as much as I wanted to pull away I knew I could trust whoever it was.

“Breathe with me, Y/N, okay?”

Peter.

“Just breathe with me.”

I tried. You have no idea how badly I wanted to stop feeling like that. But my body couldn’t catch up to my brain and that freaked me out even more and now I was getting lightheaded. “I- I-“

And then a completely new sensation filled my brain. Lips. Soft - maybe a little chapped - lips were on mine.

I didn’t need help breathing anymore because Peter Parker literally took my breath away.

He pulled away, but I kept my eyes closed. Maybe if I keep them closed I can hold onto it just a little bit longer.

“You okay?”

God his voice was so soft. I just wanted to wrap myself in it and take a nap.

“Did you get that from Teen Wolf?”

Smooth, Y/N, real smooth.

Shut up.

“Ye- yeah, I did.”

I sighed in relief. “Thanks. For stopping it.”

“No problem.”

“How’d you know?”

“Teen Wolf.”

“No, how’d you know I was having a panic attack?”

“Oh. Your- your heartbeat, actually. We have every class together, so yours has been the easiest to learn so far. Then I heard it beating like crazy so I knew something was up.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I thought about it for a second. “Maybe later, when we’re not sitting on the floor of an empty classroom.”

He laughed. “Okay.” He stood up and gave me his hand, pulling me to my feet. “C’mon, we’re late for English.” He led the way down the nearly empty hallway, while I pulled out my phone and sent one more text to Pepper.

Okay, it was a good idea.

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot #marvel #marvel comics #reader insert #peter parker x mj #ned leeds #michelle jones #flash thompson #spiderman far from home #mcu #spiderman #avengers

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hailing-stars · 3 years

Text

@febuwhump day 10 : I'm sorry, I didn’t know keep moving forward summary

“Oh, look who it is,” said Tony. “The amazing Peter Parker and Iron Lad.”

“I’ve asked you to stop calling me that,” said Harley. He put his laundry basket down on the porch.

“Shouldn’t you two be off doing college boy things? Like blowing up your dorm rooms or terrorizing your professors into retiring early?” Tony’s eyes shifted to Peter. “Or not studying for your Chem midterm on Monday?”

Peter frowned, and dropped his laundry bag from his shoulder. It landed with a thud, next to Harley’s basket. “How did you know about my test?”

“Think it’s hard for this genius and savior of the universe to hack a lousy MIT server?”

A gentle breeze fresh off the lake blew through Peter’s hair, bringing with it all the familiar and welcoming scents of his second home.

He shut the door to Harley’s baby, a vintage red Camaro with black racing stripes, and immediately locked eyes with Tony, who watched them both walk the dirt path up to the lakehouse from his favorite chair on the porch.

“Oh, look who it is,” said Tony. “The amazing Peter Parker and Iron Lad.”

“I’ve asked you to stop calling me that,” said Harley. He put his laundry basket down on the porch.

Peter frowned, and dropped his laundry bag from his shoulder. It landed with a thud, next to Harley’s basket. “How did you know about my test?”

“Think it’s hard for this genius and savior of the universe to hack a lousy MIT server?”

“Morgan’s right,” said Peter, having flashbacks to that time, a couple of weeks earlier, when she had called him from her closet to complain that her dad spent the entire day at her school. “You have boundary issues.”

“And I’m called Iron Man 2,” said Harley.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Cause he’s the sequel.”

“Well you know what they say about sequels. They’re never as good as the original.”

“It’s cold here,” said Harley. He turned to Peter. “Why did we come here, again?”

“I dunno, my memory’s sort of foggy…”

“Oh, let me try,” said Tony. “Maybe cause you’re both broke college students who haven’t had a solid meal since the last time you drove four hours to do laundry, and you know on Friday nights I make my famous lasagna.”

“Yeah,” admitted Peter. “Sounds about right.”

Tony pulled him into a belligerent hug, knocking the air of him, and ruffling his hair with his prosthetic arm. Harley was nex

t, though he tried, and failed, to get away. Peter lifted both heaps of laundry off the porch. The three of them went inside, where the aroma of home cooked lasagna filled the air.

Peter breathed it in, and a peaceful feeling spread through his body. He was home. At least for a while.

The garage was dimly lit, but that was the way Harley liked it. Reminded him of home, and all those nights he’d snuck out to the garage after his mother went to bed to tinker until sunrise, working quietly by lantern and flashlights only, to stay hidden and unbothered.

It didn’t matter how much noise he made at the Stark lake house. He’d always be drown out by Morgan’s chaos or Tony’s rambling or Peter’s frequently moody loud thoughts. It was comforting, and annoying, at all once.

“Burning the midnight oil?” asked Tony, and Harley poked his head up from insides of his beloved Camaro.

Tony wore a robe patterned with tiny Spider-Mans over his pajamas, and Harley had never really gotten used to that, to seeing Tony Stark, Iron Man, walking around in goofy dad pajamas.

“Something like that.”

“I can help you, you know,” said Tony. He patted the red Camaro, and Harley swatted his hand away.

“No way,” said Harley. He knew what happened when Tony started tinkering, even when he’d claim they were only minor upgrades. “Touch her and die. I like her the way she is.”

“That’s not what you said when you asked for my expert advice about your suit.”

“One of my biggest regrets,” said Harley.

“Brat.”

“Old man.”

“I’m not that old,” pointed out Tony.

“But you’re retired,” said Harley. “And that automatically ages you up about twenty years.”

“I’m not retired. I’m a dad, thus making retirement impossible.”

Tony sat on a stool, and with his latest statement, his mood shifted towards something more heavy, more sad. Just the way conversation tended to go lately, as if someone had died. That was about right. Someone had practically died.

“You’re worried about Peter?” Harley guessed.

“I’m always worried about Peter,” said Tony. “And Morgan. But I actually came in here to talk about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” said Tony. “How’s MIT? How’s your first semester going? I need all the details.”

Harley paused, wondered if it was alright to tell the truth, then realized he couldn’t help it. He broke out into a grin.

“It’s great,” said Harley. “It’s everything I thought it’d be.”

They spend the next couple of hours ignoring the Camaro in favor and talking about hated professors, loved professors, his favorite classes, parties, that girl in his Econ class that always seems to evade him whenever he’d worked up the nerve to ask her out.

“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” said Tony. “You don’t have to feel guilty about it just because -”

“-because Peter’s not?” offered Harley. “I’m worried about him, too.”

“He’ll be fine,” said Tony, but there wasn’t any reassurance in his words and his eyes looked a bit lost, evident even in the dimly lit garage.

“He’s depressed.”

Tony took a breath, as if he’d known along, but wasn’t ready to hear the simple, plain truth stated like that.

“Yeah,” said Tony. “I suppose he is.”

After several seconds of dead air, Tony stood up from his stool, and clasped him on the shoulder. “I appreciate you looking out for him, as long as you’re remembering to look after yourself.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Harley. “It’s really like we look out for each other, tough. Take turns being the responsible one. We’ve got a calendar for it and everything.”

Tony laughed, and got that far off look in his eyes. The one he usually got before launching into a story about his and Rhodey’s college days, but on that night, Harley was spared a story about good ole days. He suspected it was due to Tony worrying more about Peter than he was letting on.

Tony wanted to call May.

She was a beacon of parental wisdom, especially when it came to Peter, and Tony could really use the help. He was out of his league, here, but last time he’d call at this time of night, he hadn’t gotten advice about how to sooth Morgan through the sudden loss of her imaginary friend. He’d gotten yelled at, by her, and then by Happy, both of them grumpy about being woken up.

And since Pepper also didn’t like being woken up, Tony would have to go with his instincts this time. His instincts told him what Peter needed was a little bit of tough love.

So, he positioned himself on the stairs, just as Peter tried disappearing into his room for some sleep.

“Tony,” said Peter. “Please don’t be annoying.”

“Too late. I was born that way.”

“Please move. Tired.”

“MIT has really gone downhill since I left, huh,” said Tony. “Students can’t even speak in complete sentences.”

Peter groaned, and Tony slung his arm around him, directing him into the kitchen where’s set up the table with a variety of study aids and all of Peter’s school books.

“What is this?”

“Oh you know,” said Tony. He let go of him, and walked around the table. “You got your energy drinks, you sour gummy candy, your laptop, school books, day old pizza in the fridge, all the necessities for an all-nighter.”

“Why?”

“I’m teaching you how to be a real college student,” said Tony. “And I figured I could help you study for your Chem midterm, since you don’t seem to be interested in it at all.”

“I’m a genius. I don’t need study help.”

“Uh huh,” said Tony. “A genius who’s almost failing Chemistry, and will without a decent score on this test.”

Peter dropped his shoulders, and annoyance flashed across his face. Tony waited for him to yell, or start a fight with him.

He’d been so polite, for the most part, during his teen years Tony figured it was about time for them to be at odds over something, about time for Peter to go off the rails the way only a nineteen-year-old could.

“I was thinking,” said Peter, stating his discontent calmly. No yelling only meant it was gonna be harder for Tony to shoot this down. “I could just forget about school.”

“Forget about school?”

“Yeah,” said Peter. Like it was no big deal. “I could help you and Bruce figure what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Except for your Chemistry grade.”

“You know what I mean, Tony,” said Peter, a bite to his tone. “Find out what’s wrong with my powers. So I can be Spider-Man again.”

“Kid, we’ve been through this over and over again. Bruce and I, we’re handling this. School is your job right now.”

“Well I’m tired of just sitting around, and waiting -”

“-hence you being enrolled at MIT.”

Tony pushed Peter towards the table, and they both sat down.

“Listen, Pete,” he told him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what it’s like to have these powers and suddenly have them disappear. It’s been… rough on you. And May and I get that. We let you mope around New York all summer long, but it’s time to pick yourself up and keep moving forward.”

Peter stared at the table, at all the study materials, and it was hard for Tony to interpret what he was thinking.

“Think of it as a shot at having some normalcy,” he said. “Before you get your powers back and with them, all of Spider-Man’s responsibilities.”

“What if,” said Peter. His mask of uninterest started to crack. “And what if they don’t come back?”

“They will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” said Tony. “I literally saved this whole universe, and our friend Professor Hulk brought half the population back. I think we’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah,” said Peter, though he didn’t sound convinced. He looked away from Tony, and at his school books. “I guess we better get started.”

Tony frowned.

He had been hoping for more conversation, or at least to break through to the kid, in some way, even if it was just a talk and a vent.

Instead he had an almost breakthrough. A tiny crack in the disguise. And that wasn’t good enough, even if Peter was studying and allowing Tony to help him.

When they’re done, Peter disappeared to his room to get some sleep, and Tony sat up, at the table, sipping on a god-awful energy drink and wondering who he’d have to bribe to become a professor at MIT.

#febuwhumpday10 #irondad #irondad fic #Peter parker #harley keener #Tony and peter

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imaginesmai · 4 years

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Peter Parker - Autistic Love

After I wrote Autistic love, I discovered that there are barely enough fics with autistic characters. Since some of you asked for a second part, here it is! You don’t have to read the first one to understand this, they are different fics with just autistic! Peter in common. I’m thinking about doing a section in this blog about Autistic love, with fics like this one. What do you think?

As said before, please understand that I’m trying my best and I’m sorry if I’m wrong in some aspects. Let me know, respectfully, if I’m doing something wrong.

Plot: Peter and you have decided to meet your mother for lunch, and he’s going to discover how much you and your family care about him.

“This is… this is a really fancy restaurant”

You looked back to Peter, who had stopped walking and was standing in the middle of the room, eyes wide and hands tugging at the end of his sweater. To you, he looked handsome and adorable, but to some of the people that were on the closest tables to you looked quite weird, according to the looks he was receiving. So you went back to where he had stopped, your short heels clicking against the wooden floor.

“Pete” you called out his name, taking his hand against yours. It was a boundary you had overcame barely a month before, even though sometimes he rejected your touch. But he didn’t complain, and let you envelop his fingers with yours. “It’s fine. I’m not gonna leave you, and we don’t have to talk to any of this people”

“Just with your mother, hm?”

The words weren’t meant to be hurtful, but it still stung. You felt as if you were forcing Peter to walk out of his comfort zone coming here, even if he had reassured you the night before he was eager to meet her and that he wanted to do it. That he was fine.

You had chosen the most comfortable sweater he had, not wanting a sensory overload in public, and had pocketed two slim toys for him. You had taken Peter for a walk and had stopped in front of said restaurant, to make sure he was really okay, and he had talked to your mother before. It had looked good, at least until you had stepped inside of the restaurant and Peter had become as white as a sheet.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

“I’m sorry” he squeezed your hand. “You know – I’m just nervous, I didn’t mean to blurt it that way. I just… I’m still working on the rules of social interacting and the tone of voice”

You chuckled, and Peter smiled. Sarcasm and jokes were still a hard topic to work on, because they just flew over Peter’s head, but he was starting to understand how people worked thanks to the endless series you were watching with him.

“It’s fine. What are you worried about?” you tried to make him talk, not caring about being in the entrance of the restaurant and receiving weird looks. As long as Peter didn’t care, you didn’t. “You’ve met her before, it’s gonna be fine”

“Yeah, but we’ve never sat down to eat before. What if – what if I say something incorrect? Or – if she likes me and starts joking with me?”

“Worst case scenario, my mom is allergic to jokes and sarcasm, so don’t worry” you tried to reassure him. When you were sure he was looking at you and you had his attention, you shifted on your feet. “Can I kiss you?”

You had learned the hard way that when Peter felt overwhelmed he had to be alone. So, when he grimaced and tried to nod, you just shook your head with a smile. That he always wanted to please you because he had heard in highschool that that’s what boyfriends do was becoming a problem, as he said yes even if he didn’t want; which could lead to breakdowns. Thankfully, he still didn’t master the facial expressions, so it was easy to say when he was lying.

Without saying anything else, you pulled Peter towards the back of the restaurant where your table would be. He wore a small, worried frown the entire way – your words obviously not enough to assuage his concern. Peter was so concentrated looking at the wooden floor and its uncoordinated darker spots that he almost collided with you when you stopped walking.

Looking up, he saw the familiar red hair with blonde ends that your mother wore in the videocalls. Instead of the scowl he had witnessed so many times when she was around the tower, Natasha was wearing a kind smile.

“Hey Peter” she greeted him as he took a seat on the opposite side. “It’s nice to see you”

“Miss R-Romanoff” Peter did some kind of shy wave, thankful that she hadn’t made any attempt of shaking his hand or hugging him; he was sure he was pool of sweat. “How… are you doing?”

He remembered you telling him that ‘how are you doing’ didn’t have anything to do with how was what she was doing, what Peter had thought until you explained it to him. So he repeated it, not really sure what he was saying. You sat between him and your mother, leaning down to press a kiss to the cheek.

“Hungry, actually. Hi baby” Natasha smiled, and even if Peter’s brain was telling him that she was complaining, he convinced himself it wasn’t that way. She smiled at you and gripped your arm to squeeze it as a greeting. “How have you two been?”

Conversation flowed easily in the table and Peter didn’t feel left out. You talked about highschool, telling your mother how Peter had gotten the higher mark in the physic test and making him blush. It surprised him how the black widow praised him and made an effort to talk slower and without any metaphorical phrases so that Peter could follow the conversation.

He relaxed in his seat and even dared to leave his sweater to take again your hand under the table, feeling as if his heart could just burst from love. You looked at him as your mother talked about something and smiled, happy to see him so relaxed.

Being with Peter wasn’t easy, but was the most rewarding relationship you had ever had. You had read about autistic people when you started dating him, to know how to take care of him in the best way, and you prized every hug and touch as if it was the most special one you had ever had.

Even though everything was perfect, you were still in a public restaurant and Peter’s anxiety came back.

“Sorry” he chuckled awkwardly, making the waitress glare at him. “I still don’t –“

“We’re going to need another minutes, thank you” your mother talked, with a tight smile and hard eyes.

The waitress that so rudely had been standing behind Peter, pressing him to choose something already, left with his head low, and you thanked Natasha with a look. Peter hadn’t looked up from the menu, and you knew the more time he was spending looking at it the less he understood.

“There’s just so many food” he whispered, sounding panicked. “I don’t – I don’t understand h-half of it… and… I don’t – I can’t –“

“Have you decided what you’re going to take now?”

He was back, asking again the same question and looking at Peter while doing so. It was the third time the blonde boy came to your desk, ignoring how your mother and you had told him to wait. While it was true that you were rounding the thirty minutes just sitting there, the pression was making Peter uncomfortable. He couldn’t just order anything, he needed his time and that waitress wasn’t giving it to him.

“Are you deaf?”

Both Peter and you looked up to your mother who wasn’t smiling anymore. The words hadn’t been loud, but they were strong and the waitress took a step back.

“I thought that –“

“This is the third time we’ve told you that we need a minute” she interrupted him. “So either you leave and wait until we call you, or next time you come you can do it with your boss, so I can have a word with them”

The guy, who couldn’t be older than twenty, nodded quickly and left the table. It was quiet for a while, Peter staring with wide eyes at your mother and you looking between the two of them, trying to guess if he understood what she had done or if he was uncomfortable with it. Eventually, Peter looked back at his menu, but you saw a small smile on his face. You scooted closer to him and got ready to guide him through the menu, looking at the details of every choice. Just when you pointed to the first option, you heard him mumbling a soft ‘thank you’ to your mother, who smiled warmly at him.

You blinked confused when something cold touched your nose and cheek. Looking at the person in front of you, you saw Peter with a cheesy smile focused on his own ice-cream. You rolled your eyes and brushed your nose with the back of your hand, taking the pink stain of your strawberry ice-cream off. Instead of being mad, you were proud of Peter smashing your ice-cream against your nose.

“That’s really funny” you teased him, making sure he knew you weren’t angry. He looked at you hesitantly for a second, then chuckled. “If you do it again, you’re buying me another ice-cream”

“Well, I already bought you one since you didn’t bring any money” he stated, licking his chocolate one.

“Not my fault that you craved ice-cream” you said, and after a pause, you talked again. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah” Peter nodded without looking to you. “Your mother – she’s really nice. I think… I think she likes me?”

“She does”

Natasha had gone back to her car after you had seen Peter looking towards the ice-cream place in front of the restaurant. He didn’t need to say anything, you just told your mother that you had things to do and she said her goodbyes. Apart from the waitress, the lunch had been nice – Peter had even forgotten one of his slime toys in the desk, not using it since the middle of the lunch. He had thanked her for the meal and for what had happened with the boy, in a quieter voice and blushing. After hugging you and smiling at Peter, she left and you went to order your ice-creams.

“Do you think we could do it again?” he asked, and you blinked surprised at him. “Just if – if she wants, or if you do. I liked being her. She doesn’t, you know, treat me as if I’m… that”

“Peter” you stretched your hand over the table, and let him decide of he wanted to take it or not. “She’s a spy who sleeps with a gun under her pillow and repeats all the breakable bones on her head to calm down. And I could charge a phone of I touched the plug”

“Yeah, and I can stick to walls and lift a car” he scoffed, crossing his arms in front of him. The cup of ice-cream laid in between you, besides your stretched hand. “But I wasn’t – you can understand sarcasm and have normal conversations. I don’t – “

“I can’t understand anything about nanotechnology, can’t get an A+ in science or memorise a math function only looking at it once” you interrupted him, hating how he thought of his autism as something bad. “I’m dating you, because I love you. If you make stupid jokes or not, doesn’t matter”

Peter looked at you through his eyelashes, not convinced at all of what you were saying. Even if he had spent a good time with your mother in the restaurant, he wondered if it would have been even better if you were with someone normal and not him. He wasn’t stupid – he noticed how you were on edge most of the times she said something, and how you were keeping an eye on him. Before he could say how you didn’t have a boyfriend but a baby, you seemed to read his mind.

“No one is normal Peter, and normal is boring” you said, not moving your arm. “Peter Parker is not his autism. He’s just a nerd who liked apple juice and slamming ice-creams cones on my nose. And my handsome, intelligent boyfriend who I love lots”

A shy hand made its way to yours, and finally Peter looked up to meet your eyes. His were wet, but you knew he wasn’t sad or overwhelmed. He was just happy. You knew the moment he moved that he was going to do something unexpected, because he always had the same face of hesitation when he did. As if he wasn’t sure if you were okay with any of it.

Getting up and leaning towards you, you were sure you were going to be slammed again against the strawberry cone, but you were pleasantly surprised when instead of a cone were his lips against you. You could count with one hand how many times he had initiated contact in the nine months you had been together, and it was always as good as the last.

Peter turned his head so that your noses didn’t touch and you closed your eyes, hiding the smile on your face. When he pulled apart, his pupils were widened and the tips of his ears were red.

“I love you lots too” he said, leaning to kiss you again.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tom Holland/ Peter Parker taglist:

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@smilexcaptainx

@aikaterrina

@zalladane

@gypsystuf (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan

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@justifymyfeelings

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scarcrossedheartdust · 3 years

Text

A Madness Shared By Two Siren Battle

Spoilers for A Madness Shared By Two. Under the cut TW for self harm mentions and blood

A haunting song filled the night air as most people slept. Brown eyes opened and without a second glance to the sleeping form next to him he started to head to the sound. It belonged to a red headed woman standing by the lake. "Hello Petey."

"Such a good boy Petey coming out here to see me. Although it pains me to know you're married now you won't be for long you'll be here with me. "

"Over my re-dead body bitch! Get your slutty hands the fuck away from him!" Her blue eyes looked and was met with a pair of icy blue eyes that didn't look too happy about being awake.

"Patrick?! You're supposed to be dead!"

"I am and I'm going to prove to you my song is stronger than yours!"

"So you really wanna battle a siren Pattycakes? You know what will happen and then Petey will be mine anyways."

"Don't call me that and don't call him that. I'm going to win this or die trying."

“You? You never liked to sing you’re too shy and you probably can’t sing but go ahead try.”

The both of them started belting out Hallelujah. Pete’s brown eyes were glazed over still and in his minds eye he saw blue eyes but who they belonged to he couldn’t quite place….

Halfway through Patrick’s knees started to wobble and fell down starting to vomit. “Give it up Pat you can’t beat a siren I don’t know how you’re back but I was the one that convinced Gerard to kill you so I COULD have Pete.”

Blue eyes flickered yellow before lighting up in angelic blue/white glow. “You just signed your own death certificate.” Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand Patrick started to sing again…although the song was different.

“It's all a game of this or that, now versus then

Better off against worse for wear

And you're someone who knows someone who knows someone I once knew

And I just want to be a part of this

The road outside my house is paved with good intentions

Hired a construction crew 'cause it's hell on the engine

And you are the dreamer and we are the dream

I could write it better than you ever felt it”

Pete’s hands started to twitch the image behind his minds eye started to develop. He still saw blue eyes but the red hair was fading and turning more strawberry blonde..

“So hum hallelujah, just off the key of reason

I thought I loved you, but it was just how you looked in the light

A teenage vow in a parking lot, 'til tonight do us part

I sing the blues and swallow them too”

Pete was still by Ashlee’s side and she was singing too. Patrick knew battling a siren could make him sick..but he didn’t care this was for Pete the only anchor to this life he had…besides the kids which he wouldn’t have if not for Pete.

“My words are my faith, to hell with our good name

A remix of your guts, your insides x-rayed

And one day we'll get nostalgic for disaster

We're a bull, your ears are just a china shop

I love you in the same way, there's a chapel in a hospital

One foot in your bedroom and one foot out the door

Sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills

I could write it better than you ever felt it”

Patrick looked at Pete and he was still next to the skank. Patrick could feel the vomit rising in his throat again but yet he still sang..hoping the next part would get his husband back.

“Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-

(Hum hallelujah, hum hallelujah, hum hallelujah, hum hallelujah)

A teenage vow in a parking lot, 'til tonight do us part

I sing the blues and swallow them too”

After the last line Patrick was keeled over in the bushes vomiting again. Gods it was worse than morning sickness he had with all the kids (well maybe not the twins) put together. When he felt a hand on his back he looked up and baby blues met wide eyed browns.

“Trick? You okay?”

“Yes and no.. I feel like shit but..you’re here. So that’s a plus.”

“HOW HOW COULD YOU CHOSE HIM OVER ME?! HE’S FAT AND UGLY! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MINE PETE!” She fired an energy orb at the pair and Patrick’s eyes widened in his current state there wasn’t much he could do…

Before the energy orb could hit them an energy beam countered it. “Don’t you EVER EVER call him fat and ugly again. He’s perfect in every way. Selfless,beautiful and overall a perfect pure creature. He’s a lot stronger than you and he held back. He held back because he knows I don’t like to see him get consumed by his rage.” One of Pete’s arms was around Patrick the other outstretched where he had fired the energy beam from.

“Come on Petey come back to me.” She started her siren song again and once again brown eyes started to glaze over. Patrick pale and blue eyes lacking their normal fire stood up.

“Really we’re doing this again? I beat you once I’ll do it again!”

“You can’t beat a siren..Tricky.”

“Watch me. “ Again he took a breath and shakily started to sing.

“Don't panic

No, not yet

I know I'm the one you want to forget

Cue all the love to leave my heart

It's time for me to fall apart

Now you're gone

But I'll be okay

Your hot whisky eyes

Have fanned the flames

Maybe I'll burn a little brighter tonight

Let the fire breathe me back to life

Baby, you were my picket fence

I miss missing you now and then

Chlorine kissed summer skin

I miss missing you now and then

Sometimes before it gets better

The darkness gets bigger

The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger

Oh, we're fading fast

I miss missing you now and then”

He wobbled and looked over at Pete whose eyes snapped back to normal at the sad melody. This was what Patrick and Pete always sang to each other when the other down.

“Making eyes at this husk around my heart

I see through you when we're sitting in the dark

So give me your filth

Make it rough

Let me, let me trash your love

I will sing to you every day

If it will take away the pain

Oh and I've heard you got it, got it so bad

'Cause HE IS the best you'll never have

Baby, you were my picket fence

I miss missing you now and then

Chlorine kissed summer skin

I miss missing you now and then

Sometimes before it gets better

The darkness gets bigger

The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger

Oh, we're fading fast

I miss missing you now and then“

Tears pricked at the corner of Patrick’s eyes as he finally started to collapse forward. He would’ve hit the ground if Pete hadn’t dashed forward to catch him. “Okay that’s it we’re done here. Stop trying to lure me away from him…he needs me and I need him. We’re soulmates you stupid cunt. You could’ve asked me out in school but you didn’t you were a bitch then and you’re a bigger bitch now. Having a pretty face and voice doesn’t mean you can lure anyone in. Patrick’s got a PRETTIER face and ANGELIC voice and he doesn’t need it to seduce me. He does that by being himself.”

From Pete’s arms Patrick groaned. “Shut up..I do not.”

With a fast shimmer they were back home and Pete carried Patrick up the stairs. “Pete..baby you don’t have to do this I can walk.”

“Nope absolutely not you exhausted yourself in that battle.”

“I absolutely did not.”

“You’re being stubborn and won’t admit it.”

Patrick pouted but didn’t protest when Pete laid him down in the bed especially when he laid next to him.

“Now lets go back to sleep especially since I know how much you hate being up early.”

A kiss to his nose and a low grumble that sounded like shut up as Patrick snuggled into his arms.

Patrick wasn’t sure how long he was asleep for when he heard it…the haunting siren call. Blue eyes glazed over as he untangled himself from Pete and slowly started to head towards the source of the noise.

Pete was a much lighter sleeper than his husband and felt him get up. He assumed maybe Patrick was going to the bathroom or maybe to check on Mycah. But either way he shouldn’t be walking alone..he was still weak from his battle with the siren. And that’s when Pete could just faintly hear it….that bitch was going after Patrick..

When Pete had found them Ashlee was singing by her lake and Patrick…Patrick was crucified against the tree..blue-silver blood dripping from his wrists and his head hanging down against his chest. “WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?”

“Who says I did it darling? I’m just singing my song..for a lonely broken heart…yours.”

“My heart isn’t broken..its filled with rage that I’m going to kill yo—“ He was cut off by Patrick’s shrill screech as she sliced her nails down his arm causing more of the blue-silver blood to flow.

“Come on Petey you’re a vampire aren’t you and this one..he’s the head white angel how tempting that must be for you. I promise I’ll take care of you just come kill him like a good vampire.”

Vampires were naturally drawn to white angel blood it was like catnip to a cat to them. Patrick wasn’t just a white angel..he was the head white angel so his scent was one million times more alluring than any of his followers. Throw in that Patrick was well Pete’s other half and it was infinity more times alluring than any scent in the world. Pete’s eyes flashed red and his fangs extended. He ended up biting his own hand first. “I won’t hurt him… I hate drinking his blood. Leave him alone…I’ll go with you.”

“Pete…no..” Patrick’s eyes were becoming more focused and the cuts on him had vanished. Pete didn’t know his husband could heal without using his hands. He did however know how strong Patrick was so he wasn’t surprised to see him break free of his binds once his cuts were healed. “I can beat her I just need the energy…I need you.”

“You’ve tried Tricky and you failed. You gave in so NICELY when I was torturing you earlier.”

Patrick frowned as he saw what had transpired before Pete got there.

“You came I didn’t think I could lure a celestial being such as you..usually it’s creatures of the night. We’re going to have some fun before I kill you.”

Next thing Patrick knew he was crucified against the tree tight wire digging into his wrist causing the blood to start dripping. The pain was excruciating and it reminded Patrick of his past..his dark past that almost cost him Pete.

“Thinking of him? Don’t worry he’ll come then he’ll be mine.”

“I don’t care what you do to me…leave him alone.”

“Whats on your mind Tricky? Mean little ole me could fuck your mind better than Gerard ever could..or what about your dear old parents?”

Instantly Patrick froze and went completely rigid. Memories of curling in the corner hiding while adults screamed saying magic was make believe and to grow up to be a real man not some fag waving a wand flashed into his head. Pale white hands covered his ears and he started to rock back and forth.

Pete was at a loss..he had never seen Patrick like this…what did this devil woman do to him? “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?”

“Nothing..yet he’s weak Petey how can you expect him to protect you?”

“I don’t need him to protect me! Leave him alone!”

“Why? You’re going to kill him.” With a few words a wall of water rose up and lifted Patrick in the air before freezing so it imprisoned him. Ashlee hopped up to him cutting his shirt down with her nails and then dragging her nails over his right shoulder where the tattoo of Pete’s name was. Blue eyes opened wide and he started to scream again thrashing against his icy binds as the ice dug into him and more blood started to pour out of previously healed wounds.

Pete followed her because he needed to wake Patrick up there was no way he could win this fight alone.“Patrick! Patrick wake up I’m here…I’m right here Trick… and I am so so so sorry.”

“He can’t hear you. As far as he knows he’s this scared little teenager again that was hopelessly in love with his best friend that was just out of his reach. So since that’s true..I’ll make sure to erase his memory of you permanently.” She finally reached down to his left hand where streaks of blue-silver blood trailed and almost helped lubricate his ring finger allowing her to pull off the silver band.

When Pete saw her remove Patrick’s wedding band the bloodlust in his subsided but the anger rose to a fever pitch. He would never forget the day him and Patrick got married. Bathed in the warm glow of Patrick’s angel palace a place that Pete by all regards didn’t belong. But Patrick was firm and said for the light to exist it needed a little dark. That was what was engraved on those wedding bands. Alongside the date and a brief signature. He remembered dipping Patrick all the way down to kiss him in front of all their friends and how Patrick despite turning a beautiful shade of pink (it clashed with the all white that he was wearing) allowed it and even was the one to attempt to deepen it. The way they had waltzed around to their wedding song was magical.

Pete was at a loss. He didn’t know how to save Patrick. If roles were reversed Patrick would’ve had him safely in his arms by now.Even when Pete was named head vampire Patrick didn’t bat an eyelash about going to the vampire kingdom with him for the coronation ceremony.Even though it put him in extreme danger given how attractive a white angel’s blood was to a vampire. But no Patrick this pure and beautiful selfless creature walked confidently hand in hand with Pete and smiled when Pete was told it was him, he was the new head vampire. At that moment he finally felt worthy of Patrick. Even though he was older than Patrick he always felt like Patrick was out of reach, he was smart, he was strong and he could command the white angel army easier than he could fall asleep. Pete sought out Patrick’s advice about ruling a species and Patrick just shrugged and gave him that smile with those blue eyes. “Just be yourself.”

Ashlee had raised the prison even higher and sent a wall of water crashing into Pete knocking him back down to the ground.Fists clenched after looking down his left wrist where Patrick’s name was inked into his skin forever. Using his super ability to jump fifty feet in the air he landed on the ice prison where Ashlee was still clawing her nails into Patrick who wasn’t screaming anymore and was just staring straight ahead like he was…oh god he couldn’t be.

“Get your fucking disgusting hands off him and I won’t punch you hard enough to make your ancestors feel it.”

“Awe but Petey….I’ll comfort you..sorry for the loss of your sweet sweet husband but face it. He was a little geek and you two just didn’t fit together. You’re better off without him—“ The punch when it came was hard and Pete felt like he was borderline going feral. “Give me his wedding band RIGHT NOW OR I’LL TEAR YOU APART PIECE BY PIECE.”

The next bunch of events happened so fast it was a blur. The two of them were wrestling and Pete had to admit she was strong considering his super human strength. Dear gods Patrick couldn’t really be dead could he?

Her sharp claws dug down his arms and he screamed at the pain and slashed at her with his own claws.

“Ice carcerem!” Now Ashlee was imprisoned in an ice prison just like she had done to Patrick and Pete was grateful he remembered a few spells from his school days.

“Now I am going to tear you apart limb by limb. You’ll pay for what you did to him. I don’t know how to destroy a siren but I’ll figure it out!”

“You? You were too busy banging Gabe to pay attention how did you ever pass scho—“

Pete wondered what made her stop talking even as he pressed his hand to skin trying to stop the bleeding. If he had fed he’d be self healing but he hadn’t eaten in awhile.

“Oh, the things that you do in the name of what you love

You were doomed but just enough

If you were church, whoo

I'd get on my knees, yeah

Confess my love, I'd know where to be

My sanctuary, you're holy to me

If you were church, yeah, I'd get on my knees

I love the world but I just don't love the way it makes me feel

Got a few more fake friends

And it's getting hard to know what's real

And if death is the last appointment

Then we're all just sitting in the waiting room

I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom”’

Pete heard the haunting melody and it was a call like another siren…dear gods Ashlee was bad enough.

“I didn’t know there was another siren nearby…but still they can’t have you. I claimed you first Petey..” She started to wail as the mystery siren’s song changed to something darker…

“All the writers keep writing what they write

Somewhere another pretty vein just dies

I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see

That you're the antidote to everything except for me

A constellation of tears on your lashes

Burn everything you love

Then burn the ashes

In the end everything collides

My childhood spat back the monster that you see

My songs know what you did in the dark

So light em up…ignis anguis!”

That last bit was not a song..it was a spell..a spell Pete remembered being cast the year they all got snowed in at the magic school. The fire snake wrapped slowly around Ashlee’s ankles. Her ice prison was melting and the collision of heat and steam made it hard to see.

Pete sighed softly and just started to sing softly trying to comfort himself for dealing with the after math of this battle.

“The tombstones are waiting

They were half engraved

They knew it was over”

Pete didn’t know how he was supposed to deal with losing Patrick again…

“Just didn't know the date”

He jumped about ten feet in the air when he heard someone singing with him.Was it the siren that had helped him? Were there good sirens? Maybe this one didn’t attract married men…so maybe Pete was safe, for the moment.

“And I cast a spell over the West

To make you think of me

The same way I think of you

This is a love song in my own way

Happily ever after below the waist”

And now the siren’s voice sounded familiar and Pete slapped himself. It wasn’t a siren’s voice it was an angel’s voice…his angel’s voice and he barely had time to process that when he felt lips on his.

“How did you get out of that mess? I thought you were dead!” Not caring about covering each other in their own blood the pair found themselves in a vice grip hug. “We’re connected love as long as you live I’ll find a way back to you. Plus well I can heal myself you know. Now then.”

Pete watched as Patrick stood up and faced Ashlee. Despite being tortured he stood strong. “I believe you have my wedding band give it back and maybe I’ll remove the flames. Tell me Ashlee am I more than you bargained for yet?”

“Hey Trick? I’m glad you’re okay but I can’t get my arm to stop bleeding think you could?”

“Oh God…I’m sorry Pete..but I’m not going to heal you. You’re going to heal yourself.”

“You know I can’t…OH!”

Brown met blue (although Patrick’s eyes were more green from using his angelic siren powers) and Pete saw Patrick’s plush pink lips curve into a smirk. He walked behind his husband and held him by his waist nuzzling into his neck. “I still feel bad…”

“Sush and just bite me.”

“Trick baby..don’t you think you’ve lost enough blood..”

“I swear to fuck Peter if you don’t bite me…trust me…I know my body…and I need you.”

If there was one thing Pete couldn’t refuse it was when Patrick’s voice went low and raspy. It was like his voice dripped of sex,which right now Pete reminded himself it probably was.

~#~

Having retrieved his wedding band back from Ashlee Patrick smirked looking at Pete. “Well put it on and kiss me.”

“Babe you really want me to kiss you? My mouth is tainted with your blood and my own.” The ring was slid onto Patrick’s ring finger and he sighed softly however…

“I don’t care kiss me now so help me—mmmph!”

His hands tangled in Pete’s hair and their hips crashed against each other’s before Patrick broke the kiss leaving Pete confused. “Wait here..I’m gonna make sure she can’t bother us anymore.”

Patrick couldn’t jump as high as Pete could but he could fly and was up at the top of Ashlee’s slowly melting ice prison the clashing of his and Pete’s fire and ice spells. “Well well well what have we here?”

Ashlee looked at him and gasped. “You…you look different…you’re not fat like you were in school and you’re glowing.”

“I know and I haven’t been for awhile. You were just too blind to see. I’m going to sing you one more song and then we’re done.”

“So wear me like a locket around your throat I’ll weigh you down,I’ll watch you choke you look so good in blue.” Closing his eyes and repeating in his head that this was for him and Pete he locked his lips on hers letting the combination of the mixture of his and Pete’s blood flow into the open cut on her lips. He pulled back smirking the spell was complete.

The fire started to rise and she started to screech. “What did you do to me?”

“Killed you with the power of love sweetheart now if you don’t mind I’m washing my mouth with soap and going home to bang my husband until the sun rises. Toodles!”

"See Ashlee i would say thanks for the memories even though they weren't that great but Pete tastes like you only sweeter...much much sweeter."

Once he was back on the ground with Pete no words were exchanged just strong embrace. After a moment Patrick spoke up in his low, husky voice. “Can I take you home Pete?”

“Do you have to ask Trick?”

With a flash of blue they disappeared just as Ashlee turned to dust.

Pete was laying in his and Patrick’s bed naked minus his boxers and glanced at the bathroom door where he could see his husband also naked minus his boxers and undershirt. “Trick…you’re going to scrub your teeth away you’ve brushed them about twenty times. Not to mention how many times you washed your face..”

“I DON’T CARE THAT WAS VILE!”

#fob #falloutboy #fall out boy fanfiction #peterick #peterick fanfiction

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polaroid15 · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump day 4 - Impaling

Day 4 is here! This one HURT to write haha but I’m really proud of how it turned out. Hope you enjoy-- thanks for all the support on this so far <33

Summary: Peter and Tony get trapped under a collapsed building together. When an injury is discovered, they realize they don’t have much time...

Read this and previous chapters on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138196/chapters/71709888

----

When the dust clears, Peter forgets how to breathe.

The bomb had gone off without delay, no matter how desperately Peter had pleaded it wouldn’t. Him and Tony had been pulling out the last few civilians out of the way when it had detonated.

The blast had been catastrophic.

He remembers sprinting for freedom, Tony at his side, his hand latched tightly onto Peter’s arm to keep them from separating. He remembers the horrible vibration of the floor, the impossibly loud explosion, the collapse.

He remembers the darkness.

The wreckage is severe, both internally and externally. He wakes up blinking blood out of his eyes and groans, touching gently at the sorest part of his head while trying to regain his footing in the coherent world. He tastes dust on his tongue and ash in his throat. There’s blood on his hands.

The worst part, however, comes when he looks to the side. He finds Tony, barely visible through the thick darkness, unmoving and still.

“Tony!” The two syllables come out strangled and weak, though in his shock it's intended as a scream. Coughing out concrete dust, he forces his body to cooperate, to move towards the heap of scarred and dented metal laying across from him.

“Tony-” Peter’s breath cuts short as his vision tilts dangerously, a sharp pain stemming from his shoulder and down into his fingertips. Broken, he thinks. He can’t move his fingers. Maybe his shoulder is dislocated too.

When his nausea eases he continues his journey, crawling to Tony on his knees. They had been very lucky, he realizes as he ducks through their small shelter of broken concrete and splintered furniture. Though the building has indeed collapsed, it’s nowhere near what he had experienced during homecoming; unable to breathe or move an inch.

This time, all he has to worry about is Tony.

Tony.

Peter reaches his mentor, pulling in giant lungfuls of dusty air that does nothing but make his head spin. Using his good arm, Peter tries to heave Tony onto his back, but something prevents the movement.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter falls beside his mentor, feeling small and unsure, like the countless comments about his age, his naivety, are finally shining through. He knocks his knuckles lightly against Tony’s mask, unable to see the man’s face. “Wake- wake up.”

But he doesn’t, and Peter feels stinging tears threatening to fall.

And that’s when he sees it.

He can’t help but gasp, falling back on his butt and shifting away from the scene with stars blinking dangerously in his eyes. Frenzied, he uses his unbroken hand to pinch the skin on his thigh, to wake him up from what surely must be a nightmare.

“No. No no no-”

No matter how badly he wishes for it to be a dream, the scene doesn’t change, and Peter understands with great horror the severity of their situation. He slides back over to Tony’s side- his side stained with thick blood, originating from a heavy piece of rebar sticking up through his abdomen.

He’s been impaled.

“Oh, oh man.” Peter places his unbroken hand over the wound and chokes on a gag as he feels blood soak through the material of his suit.

Wait. His suit!

“K-Karen?”

Nothing.

“Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no no no-”

And just like that, his resolve breaks. He feels the sob rip through his throat, burning and stinging, but doesn’t quite hear it past the ringing in his ears. Everything sways and spins around him like a kaleidoscope.

He doesn’t even know if Tony is alive.

“Please Mr. Stark. Please, please wake up.”

The pain in his broken arm doubles and he looks down at it with a strangled cry, seeing the source of the pain to be the dented and scorched hand of the Iron-Man suit close around his hand.

He holds his breath, ignoring the grinding pain in his bones.

“To-Tony? Mr. Stark? Can you hear me?”

Slowly, so slowly it feels like a lifetime, Tony turns his head towards him. Peter cries out again, body aching with a deep relief. He presses down harder against Tony’s wound, pushing aside the fierce pain in his arm to allow it to be held.

“Hey kid,” Tony says, his voice pinched. “What- what happened?”

“The- the building collapsed. We’re still inside.”

Tony shifts again, small pieces of rock scraping and grating beneath the metal. He must register the pain because he tenses, the sounds of his breathing stalling. Peter notices him trying to lift his head, to look for the source of the pain, and flinch when it clicks.

“Oh lordy. That’s not good.”

Peter’s hands are shaking again, the walls feeling like they’re contracting, though he knows they stand still. Tony turns to look at him again, the eyes of the suit dark. “Are you okay Pete?”

“Me?” Peter asks weakly. “I- I’m fine! It’s you we need to be worried about.”

“I know you don’t like small spaces,” Tony mumbles, and Peter can hear the coherence leaving his voice. He holds on tighter, refuses to let go.

He can’t do this again.

He can’t.

“Stay with me Tony. Don’t go anywhere, okay? Someone will find us soon. They’ll be looking for us.”

“Kid.” Tony coughs. It sounds wet, like he’s bringing up blood.

“Don’t leave,” Peter repeats. “You can’t. Fight!”

“Kiddo.” The tone is gentle, kind. Peter lifts his head, more tears leaking out of his eyes.

“Can you- can you take off your mask?”

Peter stills, surprised by the request. “What?”

“I want to see your face.”

Swallowing through the tightness in his throat, Peter obeys, wincing as its removal pulls at the cuts on his face. He feels warm air hit the tears on his cheeks and freezes when Tony lifts a weak hand to reach for them, to brush them away.

“I’m- I’m so proud of you, Pete. I want you to know that.��

Peter shudders, grabbing Tony’s hand and holding it tight to his chest.

“Tony-”

But the hero’s hand grows heavy in his own, falling limply to the dust despite his attempts to catch it.

“Tony! No-”

Peter can barely see straight through the white, blinding panic. With bile threatening to tear through his throat, he rips off Tony’s helmet and reaches for his throat, fingers landing haphazardly on the artery and waiting, waiting-

A pulse. One beat, then two, then three.

They’re running out of time.

“Help!”

Peter doesn’t know why he’s screaming, doesn’t know who will hear. He crawls deliriously towards the side of their prison, feeling the walls, pounding against them. “Help us! Please!”

I’m so proud of you.

He can’t let him die.

With one last determined glance over at the fallen man, Peter digs his fingers under the biggest portion of the rubble, his bad arm hanging uselessly at his side. He doesn’t have time to think rationally, to analyze whether the disruption will bring more of the demolished building down over their heads.

All that matters is saving Tony.

Screaming through the blinding pain, the raw panic, Peter lifts. Just as he had at the warehouse, or when the ferry was tearing him in two. He feels every nerve burn, every muscle cry. It should be impossible to feel this much pain, he thinks, and choose to endure it.

But nothing can even come close to the pain of losing Tony, so he persists.

“Holy crap!”

Peter hears voices, hears hurried footsteps. He doesn’t even think of the ramifications of his missing mask until a paramedic is crouched in the rubble in front of him, eyes wide and disbelieving. “It’s Spider-Man! God- he’s just a kid!”

“Mr. Stark” Peter grunts, praying for the man to understand. Already, his knees are shaking, threatening to give way. Darkness teases at the edge of his vision. “Save him. Please.”

The medic looks beyond Peter, pulling out a thin flashlight and illuminating the space beyond him. “Oh man,” he says frantically. “I need all hands over here now! We’ve got Iron Man inside!”

The relief nearly makes Peter drop the whole structure back on top of them, but he refuses, forcing himself to stay lucid, to stay focused. His good arm shakes, threatens to snap, but he holds on all the same. For Tony.

It passes in a blur. Peter feels medics and firefighters rush past him, ducking through the small space he provides. He vaguely recognizes people trying to talk to him, offering him water.

Eventually, they pull Tony out on a stretcher.

“You can let go now,” a kind voice says somewhere distant. It's the first medic, a comforting hand on his trembling shoulder that he can’t feel. “He’s okay. We got him. You’re both safe.”

Safe.

Peter doesn’t need anymore convincing. He lets the crushing weight drop behind him, the world growing dimmer at its edges.

The medic catches him when he falls.

----

It must not be long after that he wakes up again. He sees the blurry ceiling of an ambulance, feels the ground shake underneath him. Blearily, he tries to push himself up but his muscles feel equivalent to overcooked pasta and his head is surely stuffed with cotton.

“He’s fine!” Says an exasperated voice he doesn’t recognize. “He’s right here, see? He’s fine. He lifted the building long enough for us to get you out. You’re both fine.”

“His arm-”

“He’s fine. We’ll get him all fixed up. You too.”

“Don’t tell me it’s fine! Peter. Peter. Over here, kid.”

It’s Tony, he realizes, a smile pulling on his lips. He turns his head to look at his mentor, widening his sticky eyelids. The world spins, but it doesn’t matter, because Tony is awake and alive.

“You’re okay,” Peter mumbles, dopey smile persisting.

It’s not a question.

“Yeah, bud,” Tony says, and through the blur of his vision, Peter thinks he sees tears on the man’s face. “Because of you.”

“Always keep you safe,” Peter whispers.

“I know kiddo. You’re a hero for a reason.”

Their hands reach for each other from across their respective strethers. They might even connect, but Peter loses his grip on reality before it happens, his last concern tethering him to the waking world resolved.

Tony’s alive.

Everything is going to be alright.

17 notes · View notes

free-pool-trash · 4 years

Text

dangerous game - iv

here’s part 4 :)))))

word count: 3.2K

warning(s): swearing, bad writing not even gonna lie, not proof read :) addressing reader’s mutation because my dumbass didn’t do it

masterlist

tag list: @badluckposting - @c0-77 - @my-remical-chomance - @h-holland - @prettyinblack231 - @perkypenguinperks

If someone pressed a gun to your head and forced you to describe how you felt right now in only one word, you'd have to say: awkward.

Peter was sat on your right, his leg pressed against yours and Warren was sat on your left, his arm casually around your shoulders. The reason as to why this was awkward was that the two boys were in some kind of silent competition over who could be closer to you. Each of them scooted closer to you every two seconds and you were starting to feel suffocated.

Since finding out about your kiss with Warren, Peter hadn’t given you a second to yourself, nor did he give you a second alone with Warren, he was gate-keeping but Warren wasn’t acting much better. The second it looked like Peter was about to regain his previous position with you, Warren would swoop in and make sure the topic changed completely.

For a while you hadn’t noticed but as you were being crushed by the guys on either side of you on the couch, that had plenty of room, you started to put two and two together.

“If either one of you moves any closer to me I’m going to lose my shit.” You told them through gritted teeth, your body radiating annoyance while you shoved them away slightly.

Neither of the boys made any attempt to move away any further than you’d pushed them, which was not very far at all.

"Seriously you two? What the fuck is going on lately?" You asked, finally completely fed up with whatever the hell was going on.

Peter only shrugged, pouting at you "I don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart."

"All good here babe." Warren started simultaneously.

And that was another thing, the pet names. The constant trying to one up each other. Doing things that they know you couldn't possibly enjoy just to spite each other. It was getting ridiculous and as well as that, it was driving you up the fucking wall.

Letting out a heavy breath you brought your hand up and covered your eyes.

You had a reputation in the school. You were always calm, tranquil even, it's why people loved you and why opponents feared you during missions. You had a reputation, one that you valued and needed to keep. With that in mind, you detangled from the green eyed monsters you were stuck between and stood in front of them.

Holding both of your hands out in a stop motion as Peter and Warren, like puppies, tried to jump and follow your motion.

"Whatever is going on here…" You motioned between them, swallowing thickly, lips pursed and trying to keep your composure.

"Leave me out of it." Giving them a false smile you walked away. More like stomped, really.

Warren's lip was pulled between his teeth as he watched you leave, "Fuck…"

Peter sighed, turning to face Warren, eyes tired and looking defeated.

"Look man, I know you kissed her." The silver haired boy confessed with a flat voice.

Warren kept his mouth shut as Peter carried on.

"I'm not trying to sabotage you, okay? I just want my best friend back." He finished with his voice becoming weaker with each word he spoke towards the end.

Warren chewed at the inside of his cheek before letting out a heavy breath, "If she comes to me crying later because of something you said I'll break both of your legs."

Nodding in understanding, Peter left the common room and sped towards your dorm, intent on not making you cry. He knew when Warren made threats there was always follow through, especially when it came to you.

When he reached your room he let himself in, as he always did, despite all the bad blood between you and him, you never seemed to mind too much.

You were laying on your bed, facing the ceiling when you heard the door open, not bothering to look, you only gave a small "hi.".

Peter cleared his throat nervously, "Hey… can I?" He asked motioning to the empty space beside you on the bed when you turned your head to face him.

"Yeah." You answered simply, watching as he jumped up onto your mattress and made himself comfortable laying beside you.

It warmed your chest for a moment, the normalcy of the position you were now in together, it reminded you of how things had been only months ago. You hadn't realized before, but you'd really missed it.

"Sorry about how I've been acting." He started, staring at the ceiling just like you were.

"Sorry I snapped." You offered in return.

Peter shook his head, turning it to look at you, "We deserved it, we were being immature."

Nodding your head in agreement but not meeting his eyes you asked, "Did you guys work things out?"

You didn't bother asking what the issue was, you had a fairly good idea and to be perfectly honest you could live without the drama of it.

"Not really but at least only one of us is here right now." He joked, nudging you with his elbow lightly causing a small smile to grow on your face.

Finally you moved your eyes to meet his, "Careful, you might jinx it."

Peter laughed nervously at the thought of Warren coming through the door.

Both of you returned your gazes to the ceiling and a few minutes passed in comfortable silence before Peter spoke up.

"Can I be really honest about something?" His voice was quiet as he turned to face you again.

Meeting his eyes you only nodded, curious as to what he needed to be honest about.

"I've been missing you like crazy. It's weird because we're friends again- but it's like we just met or something, yanno? And I totally understand that that's my fault but I just-" He slowed his ramble, closed his eyes and sighed before finishing, "I miss what we had."

His hand was so close to yours, you almost wanted to grab it. To interlace your fingers with his and reassure him that you were still here, the way you used to. But you didn't.

"I get what you mean. I miss you too." You confessed, voice quiet.

"I don't want to force things back to the way they were if you're not ready." He told you, brown eyes locked on yours as he paused to chew on his lower lip anxiously.

"And I know there's something going on between you and Warren." He added and you tensed at his words, averting your gaze.

"I just want you to know that no matter what happens I still love you." He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, before doing what you couldn't and gently lacing his hand with yours.

When you didn't say anything, only looked at him with the most conflicted expression he'd ever seen he continued.

"I know that you probably don't feel the same anymore, which is absolutely fine I don't blame you, but on the off chance that you do… I want you to know that I'm not going to be moving on anytime soon." At his statement you rolled onto your side to face him, keeping your fingers locked with his as he copied your movements.

"I still love you, Pete." You told him, voice almost a whisper.

"But things are complicated now, it's not just you and me anymore." You tried to explain as softly as you could, god you really didn't want to break his heart.

"I know…" he nodded sadly, yet still scooted closer to you.

Feeling overwhelmed by everything you'd just been told you let your head rest against the speedsters forehead.

The familiarity of the action calming you down.

Peter's free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in and holding you closely against him, your intertwined hands squished between your bodies but neither of you minded.

"I don't know what to do, Pete." Your whimpered, eyes closing to try and keep your tears from rushing down your face.

"You don't have to do anything." He assured you, despite knowing that soon enough you would have to decide who you liked the most.

"I really don't want to hurt you. Or Warren." You told him, as you opened your eyes, revealing the wall of unshed tears that had built up behind your eyelids.

Sighing, Peter tightened his grip around your waist and disconnected his forehead from yours so he could connect his lips to it instead.

"I know… just do what feels right, don't worry about us. We're big boys. We can handle it." Peter said, puffing his chest out with a faux macho attitude causing you to giggle.

Letting out an exaggerated sigh you let go of Peter's hand and used both of your arms to pull him into a proper hug. He reciprocated your movements, holding you tightly against him, squeezing you and placing a peck on the top of your head.

"Here's what's gonna happen," you started, head nuzzled against Peter's chest, "We are going to lie here and forget that the last six months ever happened."

You felt Peter nod his head against yours, "Right."

"And then, when we have to, we're going to get up and go to Jubilee's room and get wasted with our friends and have a drama free night." You told him, trying to convince yourself that tonight's drinking wouldn't lead to you crying your eyes out over either Peter or Warren.

The sinking feeling in your stomach didn't do much to help you convince yourself, though.

Being wrapped up with Peter was nice, you had truly missed him, but there was something so off about this time in particular. This time you felt guilty. Being so intimate with Peter felt, to you, like a betrayal to Warren.

You hadn't lied when you told Peter that you still loved him, because you did, you do. But it's not the same love as you felt only a few months ago, no, it was more refined.

Whenever you used to lay together like this, snuggled up to each other and giggling about nothing in particular, you used to pray that the silver haired boy would find the courage to finally kiss you. This time though, you were praying that he wouldn't.

Luckily, it seemed that Peter hadn't gained the courage to place his lips on yours this time, not that he hadn't been thinking of it, you could feel his uncertainty.

You'd become good at focusing what you did and did not feel of other people's emotions, you worked really hard on perfecting that skill, you did it to respect the privacy of the people around you but also to avoid absorbing more negative energy than you could handle, but Peter basically had "debating kissing you really hard" written on his forehead.

Most of your struggles with Peter were rooted in the fact that he confused his own feelings, and they changed almost as fast as he moved.

He never stayed on the same one for any extended period of time, one second it was radiating "I love her." And the very next it would be countered with "As a friend."

After a while you decided Peter would be one of the people you put on mute, only feeling what he was okay with offering to you. Which in hindsight wasn't one of your best ideas but all of his conflicting emotions didn't help either of you.

You had to make sure that you weren't subconsciously passing negative emotions around, because as well as absorbing the feelings around you, you could also transfer them to others.

It made sense that when Peter had left you that the rest of your friends stood with you, it was so easy for them to stick with you because they were feeling it all along with you. To be honest you'd almost lost control during those few weeks. You really didn't want that to happen again.

And while Peter's emotions were screaming to kiss you, you almost popped a blood vessel trying to keep yours completely silent.

Once Peter left your room, you heaved out an exhausted sigh, allowing relief to flood your body and help you compose yourself before you had to put yourself back in the frey.

When you arrived at Jubilee's dorm, most of your group was already there and some of them had already started drinking.

It was supposed to be a quiet, chilled out get together with only your friend group but you could already tell that it was not going to be chill, and once you noticed Warren holding a bottle of cheap bottle of vodka you knew with absolute certainty that tonight was going to be messy.

You found yourself sitting on the floor across from Jean as you both drunkenly tested each other's mutation, all the others watching intently.

"Okok right now what am I feeling?" She asked you, trying to keep her face neutral.

"Awh Jean! You're too easy! Right now you feel so happy because you're drunk and you fucking love me." You told her surely and she gasped, slapping your arm with an open mouth.

"That's right!" She exclaimed and all of your friends cheered as you tackled the red head into a hug, "I love you too!"

A dopey smile covered her face as she wrapped an arm tightly around your shoulders and pointed to Warren and Peter, who were drinking together, and shouted, "You hear that you two! You both lose! (Y/n) loves me!"

You kissed her cheek, making a huge "mwah" sound before pulling away and stumbling back toward the two boys who were by some miracle getting along incredibly, you guessed it was the alcohol.

Smiling brightly you plopped yourself down on Warren's lap, throwing you legs across Peter's lap and looking between them with a toothy grin, "Hi."

"Hey." They both said simultaneously, Warren's arm was around your waist and Peter offered you the bottle of vodka they'd both been sharing which you gladly accepted.

"Someone's happy." Warren stated, cheeky smile on his lips as he watched you take a swig of the vodka.

Nodding enthusiastically you kissed his cheek with the same over exaggerated "mwah" as you had given Jean and he laughed.

"I am!"

"You're also drunk." Peter chimed in and you nodded, again, enthusiastically.

"Dizzy?" Warren asked when you rested your head on his shoulder.

Again you nodded, the room had been spinning for about twenty minutes and that last swig of vodka had kicked up a fuss in your stomach.

"Take this away maybe." You slurred, still smiling but allowing your body to sink against Warren's while holding the glass bottle limply towards Peter who gratefully took it from you.

"Alright I think it's time to get you to bed." Warren stated with a laugh when you began pecking his neck, again shouting, "mwah!" Each time your lips connected to the skin of his neck.

Peter nodded in agreement, chuckling as you began blowing him mwahs from your place in Warren's lap.

"Need any help?" Peter asked as Warren swooped you up into his arms and stood up.

Before Warren could reply you looked at Peter from over Warren's shoulder, "Night, Pete! Don't throw up in Jubilee's room or she'll electrocute you…" You spoke the last part in a whisper, knowing from experience that jubilee had no sympathy for people who got a little too carried away and stained her carpet.

As Warren began to walk you towards the door Jubilee's voice made him stop in his tracks.

"Hey! Where are you taking my (Y/n)?" She questioned while stumbling up to you.

Giggling uncontrollably you motioned for her to move closer and whispered in her ear, "He's taking me to bed."

Jubilee let out a gasp, clapping her hands in excitement, "Then what are you waiting for? Go!" She exclaimed with a shit eating grin on her face as she pushed Warren out of the room, "Everyone say bye to (Y/n) and Warren!"

"No! She's so happy if she leaves the moods gonna die!" Scott yelled from his spot on the floor and Jean whined in agreement.

Pouting you looked at them in confusion, "oh no, are my emotions leaking?"

"Don't worry (Y/n), they're all good feelings." Kurt reassured you with a soft smile which you returned.

"Guys! Stop bugging them! They're on their way to have a moment!" Jubilee groaned pointing towards you and Warren.

Letting out a chuckle Warren adjusted you in his arms, you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled up at him lovingly. In your drunken state there was only one thing running through your mind, "He's so pretty."

You weren't sure at what point you'd gotten from Jubilee's room to your own but you were too dizzy to question it.

The blond angel placed you down on your bed and gently tucked you under the covers as you watched him with a smile.

"Get in." You told him, reaching your arms out to him and making grabby hands.

"You need to get some rest." He laughed at you but still offered you his hands to hold to stop your grabby motions.

"So do you so get in with me…" You pleaded, jutting your lower lip out and tugging his hands towards you.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Warren lifted up your covers and scooted in beside you while you let out a triumphant "yay!".

A few minutes of silence passed by and your head stopped spinning ever so slightly, as it rested against Warren's chest, his hands running through your hair.

"Hey, birdy?" You broke the silence, looking up at him.

"Mhm" He hummed in response, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you intently.

"Do you remember when we walked to that diner?" You asked with a smile.

Warren nodded his head, his smile matching yours as you shifted in his grasp to be face to face with him, arms moving around his shoulders and his finding a place around your torso.

"I remember." He confirmed, pulling you impossibly closer.

"And do you remember how you kissed me?" You pressed, your smile turning cheeky when you noticed his cheeks flushing pink.

"How could I forget?" He asked rhetorically, his eyes locking on yours.

Biting your lip, you allowed your fingers to tangle in his hair while your faces moved closer to each other.

"So… how would you feel about maybe if we did that again?" You inquired, looking at him hopefully through your lashes.

Within a second Warren's lips were on yours and you couldn't stop the smile that had spread across your lips while you kissed him back.

Upon disconnecting his lips from yours, he pressed his forehead against your own.

"So I'm guessing you're on board with kissing more often?" You said, smiling and pecking his lips once more.

"Only if I can call you mine." Warren whispered back, his eyes hopeful now as he studied your face.

You could feel his nerves radiating off him and decided, still admittedly buzzed, that you'd quell them.

As you pressed your lips to his again, he hummed against them when he felt a wave of calm wash over him.

"I wanna be yours."

#Warren Worthington III #warren worthington x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximof x reader #Dangerous Game

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megan1412 · 3 years

Text

Tell Me What You See

The Lennon-McCartney family become offical

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

The day had finally come. Their wedding day had arrived. They decided to have their special day on their anniversary, July 7. It was too perfect. Paul fixes his green tie. Green was John's favorite color so he didn't mind. He combs his hair and adds a little bit of hair spray. He expected a wild night of dancing and drinking. The last touch was the id bracelet John had given him for his birthday years before. The look was complete.

John looks in the mirror in his dressing room. He loosened his blue tie to look the way he liked it. Blue was Paul's favorite color, so he decided to wear it to make Paul happy. Sean and Julian run into the room with Mimi, John's aunt. Mimi nearly cries when she sees her handsome boy.

"Oh John. You look wonderful." She says, choking back tears.

"Oh Mimi stop that. Don't start blubbering on me." He says sarcastically.

"You look awesome Dada!" Sean and Julian say in unison.

John smiles brightly as he bends down to hug his beautiful sons. Mimi takes John by the hand and pulls him aside.

"John, you know I love you right?"

John nods, not seeing the point in the conversation.

"Be smart and don't you dare break that man's heart. Don't make me fly here and get on to you!" she says sternly, but lovingly.

"Yes Mimi I promise." He says with a hint of cheekiness in his voice.

She pinches his cheek and herds the kids out of the room.

One hour later....

The band begins to play as their small assortment of attendees rise to their feet. John stands at the altar with the minister and Brian as best man. The wedding party walks down the aisle, and John notices they are wearing Beatle wigs as a joke. John's friend Pete Shotton smirks as he shoots John a finger gun. John shoots one back and they exchange a small smile.

Then the organ plays.

John looks to his 10 o clock and sees Paul and his dad and their kids round the corner. John holds back tears as he sees his beautiful fiance start to walk the aisle. The organ is playing She Loves You as Paul holds Julian and Sean's hands. Paul finally reaches John and takes his hand, beaming a radiant smile. John relaxes a little and does the same, as the congregation sits. The minister begins the ceremony. Its short and sweet, adding in Paul's favorite quotes about love and John's love poems to Paul. Then the vows begin. John decides to go first as he ushers the kids to join them.

"Paul, from the moment we met on this day all those years ago, I always knew you were the one. Even if I didn't show it at first. You showed me how to be comfortable with myself and open myself up to love. You gave me something that I didn't have a lot of when I was little. You gave me love and a family. And Im also thankful that Mimi likes you, or there might have been a problem."

The audience and Paul laugh. John continues, now showing a bunch of emotion.

"You... gave me hope and security."

Paul squeezes John's hand and looks at him with adoring eyes. John composes himself and relaxes, prompting him to finish.

"All I can really say is, I love you Macca."

Paul wipes away a tear as he looks down at their kids, who are smiling and hugging John's leg. Paul pulls out his vows and tries not to break down.

"John, you gave me happiness when I needed it most. When I met you at Woolton Church Fete all those years ago, I instantly knew that you were the one I was gonna spend ny life with. You were a gruff, closed off older teenager, who just needed someone to love him. I saw an opportunity, and after a lot of convincing, you fell in love with me. Best decision you ever made."

More laughter, even Mimi is laughing.

"It was the best decision I ever made too. I love you John Winston Lennon, and I always will."

They finished up their vows, both in tears. They exchanged the rings.

"With this ring, I pledge my life to you."

"With this ring, I pledge my life to you"

The minister finished up his sermon and declared the couple legally wed. Lennon and McCartney shared a passionate kiss and the congregation went nuts. They smiled as they touched foreheads and ran down the aisle, their kids in tow.

The newly married couple piled into the limo to head to their house for the small reception. They had to be discreet to not let the media see a huge commotion in the streets. The whole way to the house, Paul and John never looked away from each other. Mimi covered the kids eyes to not "corrupt" them in her mind. They arrived at the house and everyone ran inside. George and Ringo met them at the door, dressed as waiters. They ushered everyone in and sat them down at the two long tables in the dining room. The decor had been set up while the wedding took place. There were fairy lights everywhere and flowers of John and Paul's choosing. Pictures of John and Paul from their recent photoshoot with David Bailey were everywhere. Everyone sat down to eat. The caterers brought out a four course meal, paid in full by Brian and the rest of the Beatles as a wedding gift. The meal consisted of a salad to start out with, (courtesy of Paul and his newfound vegetarianism), a pasta with brussel sprouts, a potato soup with garlic bread, and to finish, wedding cake. Paul takes John by the hand as they walk to the front to cut the vanilla and chocolate cake. George runs up to the front to say a toast to the newlyweds.

"Paulie, John, you guys are my best friends and I am so happy that you decided to make your beautiful relationship last forever. Me and Ringo and everyone here just want to say congratulations and that we love you very, very much. Hare Krishna!"

Everyone joined in, saying Hare Krishna.

Paul and John cut the cake and feed it to each other, Paul smearing it all over John's face and John straight up slapping it on Paul's cheek. They burst out laughing and so does everyone, except Mimi, who sits at the table with a disapproving look. They go to the living room, which has been emptied and the furniture moved to the side to make a dancefloor. The band begins to play and everyone begins dancing. The couple make their way onto the dancefloor, hand in hand, and everyone begins cheering. The drinks come out, and its all over. Mimi comes over to them and tells them she is taking them to her house for the night so they can have fun. John kisses Mimi goodnight and steps away to say goodbye to the kids. An already drunk Paul stays behind and waves to the kids.

"Is Daddy ok?" Julian says to John, concerned.

"Yes baby, he's just having fun. We'll see you both tomorrow ok?" John says excitedly.

Sean plants a kiss onto John's cheek and hugs him tightly.

"Night Night Dada. Watch over Daddy. He looks like he'll fall over." Sean says, observing his Daddy dance frantically.

John laughs and hugs his kids one last time before saying goodbye to Mimi. He goes back to the party to join Paul and the others. The night goes by quick, lots of drinking and dancing.

At some point, as the party dies down and people begin to leave, Paul stumbles over to a tipsy John. Paul collapses in John's lap, startling him.

"Paulie? You are so drunk love." John says, laughing.

"Mhmm... yeah. We're married." says Paul, very drunk.

The words, "We're married", ring in John's ears. It finally happened, for real. He had ever since they had kids felt that Paul already was his husband, even sometimes calling him his husband. But now it was legally binding. He cradled Paul's head as he burped and giggled.

"Johnny..." Paul burped.

"Yeah Paulie?"

"When everyone leaves, I want you and only you." Paul says giggling.

George and Ringo walk over, very drunk, and say that they are walking home. John tells them to be safe and thanks for coming. They only smile in response and wink at John. They go WOOOH on the way out and yell CONGRATULATIONS. John grabs Paul and helps him upstairs. He mumbles the whole way up and burps. John chuckles and throws Paul on the bed. He yelps in response and begins uncontrollably laughing. John grabs a beer from their mini fridge and begins to drink. Paul stirs on the bed as John looks over, completely and utterly in love.

"J..John? Come here!" Paul gestures to John.

It doesn't take John a second before he is laying on his husband, their eyes interlocked.

"I love you Paulie."

"I love you John."

They begin to mess with each other and they make love on their wedding night.

#the beatles #john lennon #paulmccartney #1960's music #1960s aesthetic #mclennon fanfiction #mclennon #hope you enjoy #product of my bored mind

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kitkatfat15 · 4 years

Text

(WIP) Avengers Among Us Fanfic

My Avengers Among Us fanfic so far. It is still a work in progress and I would appreciate feed back on it. That being said, please do not copy my work in any way. If you are inspired by it and want to make something similar, totally fine. Just... Don’t steal my story. Also, IronStrange is my endgame for this.

Red- Tony Stark...

Blue- Stephen Strange, Peter Parker...

Orange- Natasha...

White-Steve Rogers...

Grey- Bucky Barnes...

Black- Aldrich Killian

Tan-Obadiah Stane...

Cyan- Wanda Maximoff...

Yellow- Clint Barton…

Green- Bruce Banner...X

Pink- Maria hill

Purple- Maya Hansen...X

Brown-Fury

Lime- Betty Ross…

——

Room 1- Orange, Yellow, Green

Room 2- lime, cyan, purple

Room 3- White, Grey, Tan

Room 4- Blue, Blue, Red

Room 5-Black, Pink, Brown

———

Tony leaned against the wall and stared at his new crew mates. He looked around and caught Killian’s eyes. He scowled. He hates that guy. Maybe this time he can push his murders on him and convince the crew to vote him out.

Obie looked at him and nodded. Tony shuddered. He couldn’t stand that guy either. They had gone on a mission a while ago and Obadiah tried to blame everything on him. Luckily he had an alibi, but still.

A kid in a blue suit came bounding over towards him. “It’s amazing, isn’t it.” He said. Tony nodded in agreement. “It is, kid. It is.” Tony hummed. “So, what’s a kid like you doing on a ship like this?”

The kid smiled. “Me and my dad are heading towards Alpha Six. He has some friends over there. We’re going to be staying with them for a few weeks. Oh! I never introduced myself! I’m Peter Parker.” Peter held out a hand and Tony accepted it. ‘Poor kid.’ He thinks, ‘Probably never going to make it there.’ Tony winces.

“I’m Tony.” Tony can tell the kid is smiling behind his visor. “Well it’s been nice to meet you Mr. Tony, but I have to get back to my dad.” The kid waves goodbye and walks back over to the person in the other blue suit.

The guy in the white suit calls everyone around. “Hello everybody, my name is Steve and I am the captain of this ship. We should be reaching our first destination, Alpha four, in around 10 days. I assume you're all tired, so I’ll show you to your quarters. There's three a room.” The captain leads the crew, and the three imposters, to a door. When he opened it there was a small common room with a few doors on the wall. Next to each door there was a holographic screen with names.

“The room with your name on it is yours.” The crew went around looking for their rooms. Tony spotted his and hummed. Looks like he’s staying with the two blues, Peter and his dad, Stephen Strange. In the room there was a storage area for bags, three small beds, and a vent on the floor. ‘Perfect.’ Tony thought. ‘Time to get settled in.’

——————

Peter was so excited. He had been on the ship for a day now and everything was so cool! He only has a few daily tasks, since he was so young. But that was okay. He was just glad to help. Peter hummed a little tune as he walked into admin and pulled out his swipe card. He quickly swiped the card and left the room, heading towards O2 so he could clear out the O2 filter. He passed Mr. Tony on his way down, and waved hello.

Peter got in the room and pushed the leaves out of the vent. He wondered how the leaves got in there in the first place. He shrugged and looked at his watch. It was time to meet his dad. He passed a few people on his way there. They all seemed friendly enough though. He entered the cafeteria and found his father downloading documents. “Hey dad!”

“Hey Pete.” His dad mummers. Peter was confused. His dad has been acting really odd lately. Ever since he had done the download yesterday. Peter shrugged. It was probably nothing to worry about. Suddenly both of their comms beeped and flashed red. It said to meet everyone at the cafeteria table with the red button. His dad sighed and cancelled to download. They both walked over and sat at the table.

———-

When Tony got the message he knew one of them had been busy. He quickly stood up from where he had been sitting in storage and walked towards the cafeteria. When he got there only Cyan, Yellow, Green, and Purple were missing. He pulled out the open seat next to Peter and sat down. Pretty soon Cyan, Yellow, and Green showed up.

The captain, white, put his helmet in his hands. “Maya Hansen was found dead in Communications. We are unsure of who did it, but one thing we know now is that there is at least one imposter on this ship.” Tony felt Peter tense up next to him. Peter raised his hand. “Yes Peter?” White asked. “What is an imposter and what do you mean by at least one?” Tony heard his voice crack a bit and could see tears in the kids eyes. Probably the first murder he’s ever been in contact with. For some reason that made Tony’s stomach clench at the thought.

White sighed. “An imposter is an alien who looks human, but isn’t. They have tentacles, are super strong, and can see in the dark. Those are the only confirmed signs of an imposter. The reason I said at least one, is they like to travel in pairs or groups.” Steve ranked his eyes along everyone at the table. “S-so Ms. Maya’s murderer is sitting here with us at the table right now?” White nodded grimly. Tony felt Peter start to tremble besides him.

“Now, where was everyone right now?” They went around in a circle telling everyone where they were and what they were doing until it got to Tony. “I was getting gasoline for the reactor.” Peter nodded. “It’s true, I saw him on my way to O2 to clean out the filter. Before that I went to admin to swipe my card. And after cleaning the filter I went to find my dad and help with downloads.” Tony was surprised. Why was this kid covering for him? He should be scared out of his wits.

Tony watched him out of the corner of his eye and noticed the kid was shaking. ‘I think he might be scared out of his wits after all.’ He thought to himself. White nodded at Peter, accepting his answer. After the rest had told where they were white decided they should vote for who they think did it. Everyone skipped, there was no solid proof. Well, except for the traces of blood on Killian's suit, but they couldn’t see or smell that.

After everyone voted, the meeting ended and Tony walked up to bigger blue, Stephen. “Hey, your name’s Stephen, right?” He asked. Stephen nodded warily. “Do you mind if I stay with you guys? I don’t feel safe traveling around on my own.” Stephen looked at Peter who was giving him a thumbs up. “Fine. You can stay with us.” Tony smiled beneath his visor. “Let’s get to work.”

————-

Tony smiled as Peter rambled on about the wires he was working on. He had been with Peter and Stephen for around 2 days now, and they had reached an agreement. When Stephen wasn’t with them, Tony watched and protected Peter. It was a good thing too because Tony had seen Killian slinking around, trying to find another victim.

“Hey Tony?” Peter caught his attention. “Yeah kid?” Peter fiddled with the wires, thinking about what to say. “Do… Do you think whoever killed Ms. Maya is going to kill someone else? Do you think we’re safe?” Tony felt a weight settle at the bottom of his stomach. He was one of the imposters. He had killed people before. People like Peter and Stephen. Tony shook those thoughts off. “Kid, I honestly don’t know. But one thing I do know is that we’re safe if we stay together.” It was true. Tony has grown fond of Peter and his father. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt them. Peter smiled weakly from behind his visor. “I’m sure you’re right Tony.” He went back to working on the wires.

Tony took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. He had to kill someone soon. If he didn’t the others might be suspicious. He caught a glimpse of Cyan passing the door. He noticed no one was with her. He would get her tonight, while everyone was sleeping and no one, not Peter or Stephen would be any the wiser.

——-

After everyone had gone to bed and all was still, Tony quietly got out of bed and creaked open the vent, slipping inside nimbly. It was a bigger vent and therefore easy to crawl through. He took a left and was now under a vent cover. He slowly pushed the cover and pulled himself up. Cyan and lime were sleeping soundly. Hansen was their other roommate, but she was dead.

Tony slipped the knife out of his suit and stood above cyan, posed to strike. As he was about to slash down and end the girl, he thought of Peters trusting eyes and Stephens happy smile as he made a joke. He lowered the knife. He would do it tomorrow he decided. He slipped back into the vent, back to his own room. Both Peter and Stephen were still asleep. He slowly closed the vent and slipped under his covers.

————-

Peter was slightly suspicious, but mostly he was just scared. Last night he woke up when he heard a bang. When he looked over, his dad was still asleep, but Tony was gone. He didn’t think anything of it. He probably had to use the bathroom, no big deal. As he was almost asleep, he heard another bang and saw someone exit the vent and crawl into the bed next to his dad’s. Peter had fallen back asleep before anything else had happened. But now he was scared. Was Tony one of the imposters? He… He couldn’t be. Tony would never hurt Peter. Then why did Peter see him exit the vents? Peter knew he should call an emergency meeting and tell everybody what he had seen, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Peter was broken out of his thoughts by a loud rumble. He realised it was his stomach. He blushed and Tony chuckled. “Hey kid, do you wanna go find your dad and get some lunch?” Peter nodded, still bright red. He shut the wire panel and followed Tony to communications, where his dad was. When they got just around the corner they saw Tan outside of the door, about to go in. Tony cleared his throat and the man spun around, shoving something metallic in his suit pocket.

———-

When Tony had seen him there his heart had almost leapt out of his chest. He cleared his throat and Obadiah spun around, shoving a knife in his pocket. Tony gave him a teeth filled grin. “Hey, Obie! What are you doing here?” He said with false cheer. He heard Stephen get up and walk out of the room. He looked at Obadiah in confusion. “Hey Stephen, we were just looking for you! Peter was getting hungry.” Stephen glanced at Obie out of the corner of his eye. “Let’s get going.” He said. As they were walking away, Tony felt Obie’s sharp glare on his back. He put his arm around Peter, shielding him from Obadiah's glare.

After they ate lunch they stayed together for their tasks. Tony Insisted on it. He didn’t want either of the other imposters to get any ideas. That night when both Peter and Stephen were asleep, Tony heard someone clanking in the vents. Tony reaches over to a pile of his stuff and pulled out a gun. He put his finger on the trigger and held down enough for it to emit a slight whirring sound. The person in the vents went the other way. Tony didn’t sleep that night and the next morning Green was found dead in his room by his roommates Yellow and Orange.

———

Peter sat close to his Father and Tony during the meeting. Mr Bruce had died last night. Anyone could have done it. Peter knew for a fact that Tony hadn’t slept last night due to the dark circles under his eyes. Peter had also spotted a gun almost fully hidden under some clothes in their room. But that was crazy. Tony couldn’t have killed Mr. Bruce. Peter knew that he had been found with his neck snapped, not with a gun wound. ‘Importers are strong. Tony still could have done it.’ A traitorous voice whispers to him. The sound of Ms. Betty’s sobs break him out of his thoughts. Peter knew Mr. Bruce and Ms. Betty were dating. He felt bad for her.

Ms. Wanda was comforting Ms. Betty. Everybody but Ms. Wanda and Ms. Betty skipped voting. Peter didn’t know who they voted for, but it wasn’t enough to get anyone thrown out of the ship. It took everyone longer to do their tasks because no one wanted to be alone. Peter caught Tony watching Mr. Killian and Mr Stane. Peter didn’t trust those two anymore, not since he had seen an almost invisible stain on Mr. Killian’s suit and the knife Mr. Obadiah had tried to hide from him and Tony. If they hadn’t gotten there, who knows what would have happened to his dad.

———-

Later that day, when Tony had left Peter and Stephen to use the bathroom, he was cornered. He heard the door slam shut and someone grabbed him from behind with black tentacles. Killian. Tony grabbed his knife and slashed downwards, spilling black blood. The tentacles released him and he was forced to dodge as a power blast went right by him. He grabbed his gun and shot at Killian. He knew he got a good shot in due to the inhuman shriek that he released. Killian went down the vent and Tony was left shaking. Oh god. Killian had almost killed him. He holstered his gun and picked back up the black stained knife. He wasn’t safe anymore. He had to get rid of Killian. He made a dash towards the cafeteria and hit the emergency meeting button.

When everyone arrived he got straight to the point. “I was going to the bathroom when I saw Killian vent.” Silence. “When he saw me he attacked and I was forced to fight back. I grabbed his gun and shot him before he retreated.” They looked at the black blood on his suit and the badly hidden hole on Killian’s suit. “I believe him.” Peter said. “The day after Ms. Maya was killed, I saw something on Killian’s suit. I think it was blood, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want people to think I was suspicious.” There were Nods in agreement, while Killian sat there simmering in rage. After everyone had voted, white took out his dart gun and shot Killian. There was a horrible shriek and Killian released his tentacles, trying to kill one of them. Tony shoved Peter and Stephen behind him, trying to shield them, when Killian went down for the count, unconscious. White holstered his gun. “military grade sleep darts.” He said.

Tony looked around. Peter was shaking in fright and being comforted by his dad, some of Pink’s suit had been torn away, and Yellow’s visor had been cracked. Tony watched as White and Grey dragged Killian to the airlock before turning back to Peter. “Are you okay?” The kid asked him. Tony gave a small smile. “Yeah I’m fine kid. Why don’t you go see if you can help yellow with his visor.” Peter shakily nodded and went to help yellow. Tony caught Stephen side eyeing him, before turning around to go help Peter.

——-

Peter pursed his lips as he put glue in the cracks of the visor. Peter was glad Tony was able to fight the imposter and report him, but that didn’t answer how. According to what Peter had heard, imposters were extremely fast and strong. So how did Tony manage to hurt then escape Killian? Peter was starting to think his guess that Tony was an importer was correct. He sighed and kept putting on glue. What would he do if Tony was an imposter? Could he bring himself to report the older man? Peter was brought out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. It was Grey, Mr. Bucky.

“Are you okay kid? I know it can be a lot to deal with, especially for a young teen like you.” Peter sighed and nodded. “I feel overwhelmed. I mean, what was supposed to be a peaceful journey has turned into a horror show. And to think that there are more imposters like him on the ship…” Peter shuddered at the thought. Mr. Bucky squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sure everything will turn out alright kid, just, try to stay safe.” Peter nodded and Mr. Bucky left.

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good-as-i-am94 · 4 years

Text

Secret

Peter was relieved when the bell rang and he could leave. He just wanted to get outside and breathe fresh air. The school had been redoing the parking lot and smell had lingered heavily in the building the whole day until all Peter could think about was the smell and his pounding headache. He hadn’t been the only one complaining about it but he had been the only one with super sense to have to put up with it for that many hours.

Peter saw Tony’s car right when he stepped outside. It was extremely hot on this sunny Monday. Peter slid into the car and asked his mentor, “Can I open the windows?”

“I have the AC on, Pete. Besides you always complain that the wind messes up your hair and you’d rather have the AC on.” Tony signaled before pulling out into traffic.

“TONY, LISTEN I NEED FRESH AIR! I NEED AIR!” Peter wasn’t kidding either.

Tony glanced at him at a red light before turning off the AC and opening the sunroof. Peter took that as permission to open his window too. He just leaned his head back and breathed the fresh air willing his headache and upset stomach to go away.

“Sensory stuff?” Tony asked.

“It’s complicated.” Peter mumbled not opening his sleepy eyes.

At that moment it dawned on Tony, “The parking lot. Oh, Peter. You should have called May or I. You probably feel awful.”

“Yeah but everyone did.” Peter knew it was rude to keep his eyes closed but he didn’t want to throw up in this car and he was focused on calming his body down.

“You want me to pull over?” Tony asked worried. He knew he should be worried that all of the kids had suffered for 7+ hours in that building with that smell but the only one he could be worried about was his own.

“No. I want to go home.” Peter answered before grabbing his noise proof headphones from his bag and slipping them over his ears. Tony passed him his sunglasses and Peter put those on too.

Tony had tried to convince Peter to come inside but he had insisted that the fresh air was helping and he was currently laying outside on the grass. He had thrown sunscreen at him and let him be. He knew what being around that smell for a long time did to a person. Peter had senses dialed up to ten compared to Tony so he winced at what Peter must be feeling.

“You know Peter’s laying on the grass?” Pepper asked coming inside.

“He wants fresh air.” Tony glanced over at his fiancé.

“Is he okay?”

“Parking lot is being redone at school.” Tony explained.

“Poor kid. It’s probably going to be bad the next few days.” Pepper grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

“I need to call May. We can’t send him to school with that smell. I know she’ll agree. I’ll figure out getting a doctor’s note out of Dr. Cho if I have to.”

Tony’s phone rang the next day while he worked in the lab. He glanced at the caller ID and answered when it showed Peter’s school. He wasn’t sure why they were calling because Tony and May had agreed to keep Peter home, but maybe she had forgotten to call him in.

“Hello?”

“Umm. Hello. May I speak with Tony Stark?” The man on the other end requested.

“For the time being you can—At least until I get bored.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Well I’m calling because you are listed as Peter Parker’s emergency contact and he is complaining that he doesn’t feel good.”

“Wait a second.” Tony put his tools back down on the table in front of him,

“Peter’s at school?”

“Umm. Yes, sir. School is five days a week you know?”

“Gee. Thanks for that clarification. I’m coming to pick up the kid, Okay?” Tony grabbed his keys. Why the heck was his kid at school?

Tony walked into the school and found Peter in the nurses office, “Sick?”

“Smell.” Peter responded. Tony didn’t miss how pale he was or the fact that he looked about ready to throw up.

“Let’s go. I signed you out.” Tony wrapped an arm around the teen and Peter didn’t even argue that people might see them.

Tony didn’t say anything until Peter was on the couch sipping some water with the balcony doors open letting in fresh air, “May should have called you into school. I talked to her last night.”

“She did.”

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” Tony sat down next to Peter.

“I waited until she left for work and I went to school.” Peter avoided his gaze.

“Because you like feeling awful?” Tony was having trouble understanding.

“My friends were going to be miserable too. They weren’t allowed to just skip school. I wasn’t even sick so the note from Dr. Cho was a lie. I just thought I’d be fine!” Peter moved his arms so that he could cross them over his chest.

“Pete, buddy. I love that you are looking out for your friends, but they don’t have super senses. You do. The note from Dr. Cho was a gray area. You weren’t sick at the time but May and I knew you would be sick if you went to school and look what happened! You have to learn to trust us! If we say something it’s because we care and we want what’s best for you!” Tony knew he shouldn’t raise his voice but Peter constantly put himself at risk for other people.

“I do trust you both!” Peter argued.

“Do you? BECAUSE I CAN’T TELL!” Tony got up and walked out of the room.

Peter sighed. He pulled a blanket over himself and laid on the couch. Tony would be back after he cooled down. He always got heated when Peter got hurt or sick. Peter had talked to May about it one night because he thought Tony was mad at him. She had set him straight.

Peter walked into the apartment and slammed the door, “He’s just unreasonable! DO AS I SAY NOT AS I DO!”

May was staring at a casserole that she had pulled out of the oven, “I can’t believe I burned this!”

“I mean it’s crazy talk! I don’t want you to be like me, I want you to be better!” Peter continued to mock his mentor.

“Maybe I can scrape the top part off and it’ll be fine.” May thought out loud.

“I don’t even know why he has me come over if he’s just going to yell at me any time I do something that he doesn’t agree with! I’m not stupid!” Peter huffed sitting down on the couch in the small apartment.

“Dang it. We’re going to have to order take out I think.” May sighed.

Peter laid down against a pillow and screamed into it.

“Are you thinking pizza?” May asked.

Peter glanced over, “Are you hearing me? I don’t think you were listening.”

“No. I heard you talking crazy talk so I thought I’d join in.” May winked.

“Crazy talk? You’re taking his side!” Peter stood up and yelled.

“Hang on. I’m not taking anyone’s side. Let me run something by you, okay?” May reasoned and Peter nodded.

“Tony got hurt last month. He went into a mission and he ended up in the MedBay all week. You remember he cancelled on you, right?” May asked.

“Wait, is he okay now? What happened? How did he get hurt? Why wouldn’t he have called me! I could have helped! HE LIED! He SAID HE HAD A MEETING!” Peter started to pace.

“Well he really thought he had it handled until he got in over his head and figured out that he didn’t. It was too late. He was worried you’d be upset with him if he called for help.” May explained.

“That’s crazy!” Peter argued.

“Yeah so he went into surgery and it was touch and go for a while. All because he threw himself in harm’s way for someone else.”

“But is he okay now?” Peter asked worried.

“Does it worry you that he got hurt?”

“YES! Now is he okay?” Peter groaned.

“Oh. He’s fine. That never happened!” May shrugged.

“MAY! That’s mean! I was scared!” Peter didn’t understand how his aunt could lie about something like that.

“That fear you just felt? Tony lives with that fear for you every time you put someone else’s well being before your own. Remember that before you jump to the ‘he’s unreasonable and angry conclusion.’” May ruffled his hair and grabbed her phone to call for a pizza.

Tony came back upstairs after a couple of hours and found Peter still laying on the couch half asleep. He played a game on his phone, “Sorry, I should have stayed calm.”

“I’m sorry I went to school. I’m sorry the call from the school worried you.” Peter locked his phone and set it next to him on the couch.

“How’d you know it worried me?” Tony wasn’t sure when the kid had started to read him so well.

“If I got a call about you being sick or hurt I’d be out of my mind with worry.”

“You would?” Tony asked with wide eyes.

“Of course! I—-Umm—Ya know…I think you’re great.” Peter fidgeted with his blanket.

Tony got this weird feeling and he wasn’t sure what it was, “No. I’m not. I’m kind of okay.”

Peter sat up at this, “Kind of okay? Nope. Best ever in my opinion. Don’t get weirded out at this, but I kind of, might, sort of…UGH. WHY WON’T THESE WORDS COME OUT? I just umm. Love you or whatever.”

There was that feeling again. But what was it? Oh. Yeah. Love. That weird feeling is love for another human. Tony reached over to ruffle his hair, “Yeah. Love you too, Bubs. Now are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry.” Peter started.

Tony and Peter said at the same time, “THAT’S MY SECRET!”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042219

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