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tripleyeeet · 9 months

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LESSONS IN CONFESSING (5)

SUMMARY: You and Peter go on a little field trip!

PAIRING: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 7,023

WARNINGS: Angst, canon typical violence, misuse of a hockey stick, descriptions of a panic attack, a little bit of comfort at the end I SWEAR.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, hope you guys are liking the fic so far. I'll be honest we only have one chapter left! At least... of this arc. >:)

CHAPTER LIST / LAST CHAPTER / MASTERLIST

The feeling of his lips still lingers as you crash to the ground. In a heap of pain, you crumple to the floor ass first, your head barely missing the leg of your bed frame, causing you to let out a frustrated huff and bring your hands to your eyes, palming the sockets in frustration because what the fuck was that?

The last thing you expected going into this was a kiss. Really anything other than an earful of curse words and repeated avoidance was all you anticipated. You didn’t think in a million years he’d kiss you and then shove you through a goddamn portal!

“What the fuck, man?”

You’re not sure whether to cry or laugh as you lay there, shell-shocked over the whole ordeal. Nothing about that interaction made much sense now that you’re thinking about it. Instead of exhibiting his usual aggression, Miguel tried to reason with you, his voice almost apologetic as you screamed in his face demanding answers. In the moment you didn’t notice, but now that you’re away you can see everything differently —clearly in a way that has you squinting at the ceiling trying to remember.

His body looked different, almost smaller. His eyes, no longer in their usual narrowed stance, looked soft. Worried. As if your presence there was less so an annoyance and more of an actual problem. Not to mention the coolness of his voice. Usually, Miguel’s as hotheaded as they come so to hear a tone without any fight behind it felt unusual. Wrong in a way that makes you wonder what the hell changed. In those short hours between conversations what happened that made his hostility subside?

And what the fuck is Alchemex?

Shooting upward, you make a beeline for your desk. As per usual it’s a mess, covered in empty bottles of beer and Gatorade as well as protein bar wrappers. Angrily, you swat a pile of the latter away, cursing under your breath as you turn on your laptop, groaning at the streamline of notifications that begin to roll in. Where are you? Sweetheart, are you okay? Call me when you get this. Pete’s looking for you!

There’s about nearly thirty or so texts synching in through your phone. Most of them are from Peter and May, but sprinkled in between there’s a few from Gwen and MJ too, all of them filled with words of worry making you swear again and race to the living room. You’re pretty sure you left your phone on the coffee table. It’s either there or somewhere on the couch, you guess, sprinting across the hardwood floor only to stop in your tracks, noticing Peter.

His back is to you but regardless, you can see that he’s talking to someone through his watch, his voice low and broken. You figure whoever’s on the other end of that call is probably telling him what happened. Either then or bad-mouthing him for doing a bad job of keeping this all a secret. For letting his stupid, civilian sister jump into another world unsupervised.

“Thanks, I uh, gotta’ go.”

It’s the one thing you hear before he turns to face you, eyes narrowing to take in your dishevelled appearance.

“Where the hell did you go?”

Fuck, he’s mad. Not that that’s surprising. You’d be mad too if you were in his shoes. It’s just you’re not used to mad Peter. Peter whose eyes are barely visible through the rage that collects across his brow. Peter who crosses his arms over his chest and anxiously taps his foot just like Ben when you were kids.

“Out?”

He scoffs, loudly. Angrily. A loud eruption of reverberation that has you closing your eyes and flinching, waiting for the impact. “Out? Are you kidding me? I leave for five seconds and somehow you end up across the universe by yourself with no phone?”

“Would a phone even work in—“

“You’re lucky Hobie was there. If it were anyone else you could’ve gotten in serious trouble.”

You open your mouth to argue but ultimately stop, realizing he’s right. You did something recklessly stupid. Something you promised to never do since he got bit by that spider and started swinging through the city fighting crime so you and the rest of his family would be safe.

“I’m sorry.”

As expected, he ignores your apology, groaning as he pinches the bridge of his nose and begins to pace. “I mean, seriously, what were you thinking? Had it ever occurred to you that maybe following me into a portal was maybe not the greatest idea?”

“Well yeah, of course I thought about it.”

“Did you really?”

You did, obviously. You thought about it for as long as you could before you decided, but he’ll never know that. Not with how fucking stubborn he’s being. “Look, I only followed you because I thought you’d be on the other side! If I’d of known you’d be long gone already I wouldn’t have jumped!”

“Somehow I highly doubt that.”

You can’t help but frown knowing this is a losing argument. No matter what you say or do will end in an ever-growing rift. Peter’s trust in you will falter the longer you speak and all you can think about is how much you don’t want that.

You’ve already lost the trust of one Spider-Man tonight. You don’t need to lose another.

Defeated, you cover your face in your hands, letting out a heavy breath as you walk toward the kitchen to grab the scotch.

“Oh, please don’t bring that out.” Peter groans as you grab the bottle along with the usual glasses, flashing him the most apologetic smile you can muster as you usher him to the couch and begin your ritual.

“I don’t want to drink with you.”

“Then don’t. Just sit.”

Thanks to Miguel’s past visits the bottle’s pretty much gone anyway. A detail you can tell confuses Peter as you empty the last of its contents into the glasses and set one in front of him.

“Look, I’m sorry I jumped into another dimension without your permission. I had —I mean—“

“Are you okay?”

You stop, confused. Peter always asks if you’re okay. Unlike most, he’s actually considerate of the way you feel in stressful situations, but something about the way he asks this time feels different. Unplanned. Spontaneous in a way he wasn’t necessarily prepared for.

“Yeah, why?”

“The scotch is gone.”

“So?”

“You only ever bring it out when I’m here,” he points out.

“Usually.”

“Usually?”

You nod, reaching for your glass to take a sip. When it hits your lips you can’t help but cringe, suddenly feeling wrong. As if the taste inside your mouth has been replaced with something inherently false.

“You’re hiding something.”

“No.”

You are. Sort of. At least, you didn’t realize you were until now. Over the course of the last few months, you figured Peter knew about Miguel’s visits. About his weird, overbearing boss hopping through your window semi-regularly to get patched up and sleep on your couch. It seemed like something he would mention, given the amount of intimacy you shared when you cleaned his wounds. All those countless nights of scotch fuelled arguments and the never-ending debate of identity.

Stupidly, you assumed Miguel told Peter everything, but now that you’re sitting next to him, glancing between the empty bottle and his troubled expression, you know that he didn’t. Not a single fucking word was uttered between the two of them and now you’re the one that has to bear the news.

“You’re horrible, you know that?”

If you weren’t already so stressed you’d laugh. But considering everything that’s happened over the course of twenty-four or so odd hours (maybe, honestly you have no idea at this point) you’re too exhausted.

“God, this is all so messed up.”

You’re at your wit's end, falling into the abyss. Your head is hurting and your chest feels like it’s a ticking time bomb with the way your heart rate suddenly rises. In the corner of your eye, you can see Peter’s face begin to soften, his eyes floating in a space between stern and concern. Ever so slowly he inches closer to you on the couch, pulling you tightly against his chest as you inhale a little hard and find yourself struggling to get it back out. At which point, the air in your lungs grows three sizes, filling the cavity of your chest; tightening around your innards like a half-tied noose ready to slide into its final form.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.”

His voice is simultaneously beside you and distant. The way it sounds is morphed by the time it hits your ears, distorting in waves as if you’re falling further into the ocean. You can’t hear or breathe and as time passes you can feel your vision start to go fuzzy as you try to focus on the glass in front of you.

It makes you think of Miguel, stupidly. Of all those nights spent sitting beside each other, talking about whatever topic of interest arose in the moment. Somehow, despite the countless hours spent together, the level of importance in those conversations was minimal, ranging from things like favourite dog breeds to the most influential shows of the 90s.

In those moments, the details he gave were vague, bordering on mass-produced opinions rather than ones of his own. Each time he answered one of your questions you were sceptical of his answer, always raising your brow in question before diving into some bullshit debate.

Staring at the fuzzy outline of the glass, you wonder if any of what he said was actually true. If he actually preferred baseball over football. If he thought video games were a pointless medium. If he favoured the smokier scotches over the brinier ones.

In the moment he could’ve said anything and you’d partially believe it. Out of the desire to know more about him, there was always this sliver of acceptance. This willingness to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially with the easy topics. Revealing to you his favourite things seemed pretty low on the overall secrecy scale, so it always felt like there might be some truth there. A desire of his own to offer up a part of himself.

You know now it was probably all a lie. Every last word uttered inside your cramped apartment was nothing more than a diversion tactic to keep himself guarded and fell for it like some fucking idiot.

God, you hate him. More than what you started with, your hatred grows as you pull yourself from Peter’s grasp and steady your breath, wiping your face in the process.

He doesn’t deserve your tears. Or any time spent thinking of how that kiss made you feel so completely full and warm and —fuck, enough of that.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you lie, hoping he’ll drop it; knowing he won’t.

“Okay, well we both know that’s a lie.”

You roll your eyes and watch as he downs the liquor in front of him, barely even registering the strength as he swallows it whole. “Fuck you and your stupid spider senses.”

“I think this time they’re just plain old Parker ones.”

“That’s even worse.”

“Sure is, now spill.”

It’s hard to come up with the right words, at first. Each time you open your mouth, ready to tell him everything you’re met with a reluctant nagging at the back of your head, telling you to shut up. To keep this all a secret because it’s classified. But then you remember this isn’t about him. It’s about you in this universe among all the other ones.

“Before I start, I uh —I need you to promise you’re not going to tell anyone. Like, seriously anyone.”

Peter looks at you with questionable eyes, obviously wondering what you mean as you sigh and begin to go into detail.

“Truth is, Miguel’s been coming over,” you say, trying to gauge his unwaveringly neutral reaction. “After that horrible brunch day he showed up in the middle of the night all fucked up so I let him stay. We talked briefly. I offered him ol’ the painkiller and scotch trick and since then he’s been coming over.”

“How frequently?”

You shrug. “Semi.”

There’s a pause, during which Peter’s jaw tightens as he leans back, raising his hands to his face. “Do you have —oh, I don’t know—an exact amount maybe?”

You mirror his position, resting your head against the backing of the couch. With a sigh you glance up to the ceiling and try to count every individual visit, realizing quickly that they sort of just flow together like one long conversation spanning over the course of eight or so weeks.

“I think twelve?”

His mouth drops open in shock. “Twelve?”

“Give or take.”

The next thing you know Peter’s grumbling into his hands, muttering about the double standard of rules —about how Miguel should know better and how this could ruin everything.

You’re sure it has something to do with some inter-dimensional laws. Like time travel, there’s probably some sort of code all the spiders live by where they don’t mess with the order of things. People from other universes aren’t meant to mingle unless it’s for the purpose of keeping order. Where you’re from is where you stay and Miguel showing up time and time again without anyone knowing is a direct violation of that.

“I don’t know if this is like, against the rules or whatever but he told me… things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Uh, things about me?”

It sounds wrong when you say it like that, especially when Peter sits back up, dropping his hands to look at you with wide eyes. You discover then that you definitely could have worded it better —thought about the implications of your phrasing before letting the words fly out of your mouth. This is a serious matter after all.

“He told me he knows me —sort of,” you explain. "I can’t remember the exact words, but it was something along the lines of in every universe you are infuriating followed by him arguing how he understands me more than I think he does.”

As you roll your eyes at the memory, you can see that Peter’s still processing, his gaze darting around the room at full speed. At the same time, his chest rises and falls in quick succession, his entire body fidgeting throughout the breaths until suddenly he’s completely still and staring at his watch.

“Did he say anything else?”

Despite everything he’s kept from you, you feel obligated to lie for Miguel. To stop the conversation right there and call it a day. In the long run, it’d save him a lot of grief —probably you as well depending on how he responds. If you stop now, that’s it. The book closes and you get to move on.

Do you even want that?

You’re not sure you do. Not after Miguel’s final words. Sure, you don’t really know what they mean —how they apply to you and him and all the rules that have been set in place, but at this point you’re not willing to wait to see how things play out. Your patience is thin on a good day, and considering the severity of everything happening the idea of staring at that ticking clock, waiting for whatever it is to happen, isn’t an option.

So you have to tell him. About Miguel’s confession, about the conversation in the control room, about those final words uttered before he kissed you.

“Hobie took me to HQ.”

It’s the only thing that needs to be said for Peter to understand that the situation is going further downhill. Immediately, his face falls into a panic, his hands moving to grip the roots of his hair as he sighs and leans back, waiting for the other bomb to drop.

When it does he’s a mess of anxious energy. Every thought that zips through his ears is showcased across his face, ranging from confused to angry, ending in desperation you’re not sure you’ve witnessed.

“I have to talk to him.”

He’s standing from the couch and stepping over your feet before you can even blink. Quickly, you follow and reach to grab the wrist that houses his watch, pulling him back to a reality where it’s just you and him and the urgency of everything is paused for just a minute.

“You need to talk to me first, Pete,” you beg, feeling him peel himself away from your grasp.

“He should’ve known not to come here.”

His fingers are rubbing rough circles into his temples now, pressurizing the stress. Turning it into a physical sensation he can work through. You know this because you do the same when you’re stressed. Something about feeling that pain on your skin instead of the inside of your head makes everything easier. More palatable when the world feels like it’s ending. It’s something Ben taught you to do when you were kids. “Localize that feeling and take deep breaths. It’ll make you feel better,” he’d say.

In this moment you want to repeat those words. To pull him close and tell him that everything’s going to be fine. That you’re never going to talk to Miguel ever again if it means that things can go back to the way they were.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just you and him —it… it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“Like what?”

Your voice is harsher than you intend it to be. Full of an impatient venom that leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You want to know what he means without all the necessary filler. Already for weeks, you’ve been kept in the dark, longing to learn the truth and every time you get even an inch closer it always feels like you’re thrown three feet back, scrambling to remake progress.

“Peter, please. For once in your life don’t keep secrets just because you think it’ll keep me safe.”

It feels like you’re begging to no one. As if, instead of a person, there’s this empty vessel who’s staring back at you, lifeless in the eyes and face but still moving to press the screen of their watch.

“I’ll jump in after you.”

“I know.”

He says it so quietly you can barely hear it over the whirring of the portal that begins to form, shrouding you in a light that warms your skin as Peter motions you to follow.

Even though he single handedly has one of the most stressful lives in existence, it’s very rare you ever see Peter on edge. No matter the situation, there’s always an aura of calm that surrounds him. In high-stress environments, he’s able to push through the problems with little issue, ignoring the onslaught of doubts you’re sure are still there.

Because of this, seeing him all tense as you wander through the streets of an unfamiliar city, you find yourself frowning —worrying that maybe you’ve pushed him too far.

“This isn’t going to be pretty,” he tells you, sighing.

Stopping at a crosswalk, you both look left to right and back again, surveying the snow-covered streets in awe. It’s colder here. A good fifteen or so degrees below what it is back home. Everything in sight is enveloped in a white blanket twelve inches deep. Beneath your feet you can feel the presence of ice crackling against the pavement, making you cautiously step out onto the street when the light inevitably goes green.

“Where are we, anyway?”

“Earth-1867.”

You meant to ask which city, completely forgetting you’re in another dimension, but reserve asking him, knowing deep down you don’t really need to know. You’ll never be back here, anyways.

“It’s fucking freezing.”

Thankfully, before stepping into the portal, Pete handed you a jacket and some boots —both of which you nearly declined to take before noticing the look on his face. You figured because the weather was pretty mild back home you wouldn’t have to worry about it here. Then you quickly realized how ignorant that sounded and threw them on without question.

Now that you’re walking through the streets of some winter wonderland, you’re thankful for once you managed to listen.

“That’s what happens in Canada.”

“Canada?”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly interested, you start to glance around a bit more, taking in all the unfamiliar buildings that line both sides of the streets. As expected, they look pretty similar to the ones back home. Small hole-in-the-wall shops with dark-coloured doors and big windows. Most of the signs are flipped closed, revealing nearly pitch-black interiors that have you squinting to look inside, but there’s also a few that remain open.

“Wait, where are we even going?”

“You’ll see.”

Groaning, you throw your head back in defeat to see the darkened sky. In the corners of your vision, the city lights glow faintly, shadowing the stars while simultaneously showcasing the huge puffs of snow that fall toward your feet.

Almost immediately, it makes you blink and look back down, noticing a masked spider-woman a couple of feet away. She’s waving at you excitedly with one hand while her other remains occupied by a drink tray full of cups.

“Hey!” Peter smiles and immediately returns the gesture, his pace quickening to meet her in the middle of the street, both of them going in for a hug.

“What’d you do get lost on the way or something?” she jokes once you’re near, nudging her elbow with his before handing him the drink tray. When he takes it he shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“You and your gifts.”

“What? It’s the way of my people, don’t be a dick about it.”

Peter raises his free hand in defence before offering you a cup. When you take it you practically melt against the heat, sighing contently as you thank her.

“No problem. Figured you could use a little pick me up after… y’know?”

You look at her confused, moving the cup to your lips to take a sip of arguably the best hot chocolate you’ve ever tasted.

“Pete texted me on the way over,” she explains then. “He didn’t give me details or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Just said you wanted a little tour of the abandoned Alchemex building we got out on North York.”

Alchemex.

The liquid inside your throat catches, prompting you to double over and cough, causing panic in both Peter and his friend. Both of them jump to your aid, placing soft hands on either shoulder, watching intently as you clutch your throat, gasping for air, wondering what the hell’s going to happen next.

It can’t be good. Peter said it’d be rough and although he’s often the type to lie and keep secrets about the betterment of your health and safety, you’re certain this time he’s telling the truth. What lies behind the doors of that Alchemex building will be anything but easy for you to swallow and regardless of wanting to know, you’re still not sure you're ready.

“You okay?”

You nod slowly, feeling them both sidestep away to give you space. By that point, you can finally breathe again. As you inhale, you can feel the cold air rushing through your lungs, erasing the warmth entirely. It makes you shiver upon impact, your gaze catching the two of them staring at one another.

“I’m fine, sorry.”

“Right, well, uh, we should probably get going then. Let the tour commence and all that?”

Both you and Peter nod, causing the spider to clap her hands.

“Alright then, drink up. It’s about a twenty minute swing away.”

Her name is Riley Gaboury.

While you’re swinging through the air, clutching onto Peter’s back for dear life, she tells you this, then follows up with the same kind of spiel Hobie gave you earlier. The one about how she got bit by a spider and became Toronto’s one and only Spider-Woman.

As she speaks, you try your best to listen, feeling your ears sting from the chill of the air pelting against your skin. Based on the quickness of her voice you can tell it’s been a while since she’s had any visitors. Her voice feels never-ending, like an overexcited child explaining their favourite TV show.

In any other instance you’d be happy to talk with her —get to know her a bit better— but right now all you can feel is the cold anxiety creeping through your limbs.

All your extremities have pretty much gone numb, pulsing underneath the surface of near frostbitten skin and it’s becoming too much. More than anything you want to ask if you can stop and walk but knowing the obvious urgency you keep your mouth shut, trying your best to distract yourself as you take a particularly rough turn.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles under his mask.

You groan back, barely able to think, let alone speak as he propels both of you forward over a nearby rooftop.

“We’re almost there, just a couple more blocks,” Riley calls out.

As you whizz past the traffic below, you can feel your stomach churning with anticipation. Although it’s only been a few hours, you can feel the oncoming disaster of knowing begin to move. Closer and closer it inches the further you swing, reminding you of the potential consequences. Of the inevitable complications that’ll come with knowing why you’re meant to remain in the darkness.

It feels almost too much as Riley points to a tall building lined entirely with windows, prompting both her and Peter to suddenly divert their path, building enough momentum so that they can gain height.

You almost vomit when you realize how high up you are. When Peter’s hands land firmly against the building’s side, you close your eyes and tuck your head into the crook of his neck, muttering curse word after curse word as he crawls you to the top, laughing once you fall onto the roof in a heap.

“Oh, my god, land,” you mutter, your body covered almost completely by the snow.

Riley snorts. “Whatever you do don’t look over the edge.”

At this point you wouldn’t dare, knowing how high up you are. Instead, you merely stand, feeling your legs shake as you brush off all the snow and turn to Peter who’s already wandering toward the rooftop entrance.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?”

“Stay close.”

You nod and wander over, watching him attempt to open the door but to no avail. “Locked?”

He groans and nods, turning towards Riley who’s already wandering over, producing a small metal rectangle with a button on it. “Move,” she says. Then out of nowhere, a large stick grows in her hand, causing you to stare in awe as she takes the end of it and starts to whack the window out.

“Is that a fucking hockey stick?”

As she pulls the contraption back, she nods her head. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah, cool,” you and Peter say in unison, watching her stab out the edges of the broken glass before reaching in to unlock the door.

After that you make quick work of moving through the building, quietly rushing through various halls and stairways, trying your best not to get too distracted by the pictures that line the walls. Most of them are abstract pieces you’d see in virtually any office, strips of colour layered overtop of each other, but scattered between there are employee pictures too. Faces of people you’ve never met, smiling in lab coats both by themselves and in groups.

You find yourself lingering on those, glancing down at the plaques that list their names. Jordan Boone. Liz Allen. Paul Phillip-Ravage, etc.

In the picture in front of you, there’s around a team of twenty all clumped together, smiling and holding each other tight. Due to the wear and tear of the building though, some of the faces have been scribbled out —graffitied over with a black sharpie. At the centre, there’s a pair of faceless people leaning against a giant tube of liquid, both of their hands pressing against the glass so closely you can see their pinkies interlocked.

“Hey, c’mon!”

As much as you want to defy orders and continue snooping, you follow Peter through a set of double doors and turn toward Riley. “What is this place?”

“It’s uh, hard to explain,” she says, her tone full of discomfort as Peter stops you in front of another set of doors.

“Mind keeping watch, Ri?” he interrupts.

Riley nods her head, offering you a blank look before barreling forward, shooting a pair of webs towards the ceiling so that she throws herself out of sight.

Once she’s gone you swallow hard, remembering why you’re here. Why after all this arguing and travelling and breaking and entering you find yourself standing in the middle of some barely lit hallway with your superhero brother.

You motion to the door. “This is it?”

“Yup.”

“A bit lacklustre, don’t you think?”

He scoffs and pushes open the door, holding it open as you follow closely behind, suddenly feeling the need to retract your statement because the room before you is anything but mesmerizing.

Filled to the brim with abandoned equipment, it’s almost as if the team located here just up and left, leaving everything as is. Desks covered in research papers and old monitors line the walls with little disturbance. Test tubes filled with unknown substances are stacked haphazardly throughout the room, taking up cupboards and tables.

Taking a few steps in, you notice all the small details of a testing lab. Coats hanging off hooks by the door, a kitchenette with a coffee maker and toaster oven, a whiteboard filled with old writing that’s been scrubbed away and replaced with crude drawings.

It’s as if the whole room’s been frozen in time.

“Holy shit.”

At the room’s centre, you see a tube identical to the one in the picture outside. The only difference is that it’s sustainably bigger and empty, the double-layered glass encapsulating nothing but air.

“What is this?”

“A battery.”

You look at Peter who’s now standing next to you, staring at it with his mask off.

“For what?”

“Inter-dimensional travel. In this universe it was the first of its kind —a breakthrough in modern physics,” he explains. “Alchemex employees in this department had been working on it for a while when one of their geneticists had a breakthrough.”

You stare at him, mouth half open, waiting for him to continue but he doesn’t. He just stands there, reaching out to touch the glass with a shaky hand that has you breathing heavily and looking around, trying to put two and two together.

It’s you, right? The geneticist. That’s why he brought you here.

“Wait, Peter, I—“

It’s too much, at first. This idea that another version of you could help create something so big. Obviously, every version of yourself is different. There’s no set standard for the level of understanding one has on certain subjects. In another life, you could be anything from a barista to an astronaut and it wouldn’t matter, because every universe is different. Every universe is unique and thriving and while, sure, some of them may overlap with the same sort of details, at their core they’re still completely separate.

“Everything’s connected.”

Or not.

“This event —the creation of a device that can ensure the use of inter-dimensional travel– is meant to happen in every universe. It’s canon, which is a term we spider’s use to explain various moments in our lives that have to happen.”

“Like a prophecy?”

“Sort of, yeah. Each of us have a set story that’s meant to be followed in some way. The spider bite, ASM-90, the tragic passing of a family member…” He trails off for a moment, looking at you, an air of guilt coating his features. “All of it has to happen for every universe to remain intact.”

When you go to look back at him, there’s a blooming of warmth that hits the side of your face, spreading throughout your cheeks and nose until it suddenly dissipates and you’re left watching your brother get slammed into the ground. Then suddenly, the room is filled with pained groans and angry grunts, the flashing of limbs struggling against each other making you realize that this was a mistake. That you were never meant to house this information.

As nothing more than a human, all you were meant to do was stand by and watch as the chapters of Peter’s predicted life unfolded around him. You were meant to turn a blind eye. To pretend that spider people were nothing more than vigilantes and that the secrets your brother withheld were for your own good.

You know now, watching him fight against Miguel’s heavy hands, that he was right about all of this. And that this is your fault. That you’re the reason the ground beneath him is breaking apart and there’s blood spurting from his mouth and nose.

“Miguel, stop!”

You scream louder than you ever thought possible as you rush to your brother’s aid, witnessing the onslaught of scratches and punches he receives. As you get closer, you see no signs of Miguel stopping so you stupidly reach out to grab his arm, earning yourself an elbow to the temple that you barely register through the adrenaline.

“I thought I told you not to tell her,” Miguel says through clenched teeth, ignoring your hands and how they claw at his back through his suit.

“Says you, asshole!”

You don’t expect Peter to reply, so when you hear your voice you stop for a moment, jumping at the presence of hands that quickly pull you away.

“Sorry, uh, just… stand here for a second,” Riley says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, making you thankful because as much as you’d like to help you can’t do anything. You’re not a superhero nor do you have a retractable hockey stick that you can use to smash Miguel in the back of the head.

“You know, if we were on the rink you’d make the perfect goon,” she says, doing just that; using enough force to get him to stumble backwards.

“What does that even mean?” Scrambling to stand back up, Miguel groans and lunges for her, giving you enough time to rush over to Peter; he's heavily breathing, dripping in blood with his eyes closed.

Without even thinking you go in for a hug, hearing him moan in pain, prompting you to pull away and apologize.

“God, your boyfriend sucks,” he mumbles then, cringing as he pulls himself slowly out of the rubble before wiping the blood off his face.

If you were in any other situation you would have punched him for saying that. But considering he looks like he’s already knocking on death’s door you settle for an eye roll that stops midway, noticing the ongoing fight.

Both of them are up in the air, swinging back and forth to meet in the middle. Miguel reaches out to claw Riley’s webs but misses as she leaps off her tether and knocks him in the face again, sending him toward the floor.

“Goal!”

Peter, despite the shape he’s in, lets out a laugh and stands up, moving to stretch his limbs before shooting a web into Miguel’s chest. When it attaches directly at the centre of his solar plexus, Peter shoots another web towards the roof and begins swinging in circles, using the movement to begin wrapping Miguel in layers and layers of webs.

Following suit, Riley does the same thing, both of them floating around like a carousel until Miguel’s struggling against his newfound prison, loudly cussing them out in Spanish.

It’s quite the sight, seeing his seething form so suppressed. His nostrils flare out in heavy puffs as he stares at the three of you; his eyes narrowed eyes darting around until they land on you. Ever so quietly he says your name then, trying to ground himself through the rage that refuses to go away.

A part of you wants to move in closer —to tell him that everything is going to be okay— but deep down you know that isn’t true. Miguel came here with the intention of keeping this from you and having come this far you’ll be damned if you let that happen. No matter how wrong you know it is.

“Please, if you’d just listen.”

The way his mask fades away when he looks at you tells you he already knows this. As the moments pass, his expression turns from angry to anxious, his brows softening under the dim lights, casting shadows over his skin that make you frown and turn to Peter.

“Can you give us a sec?”

He’s hesitant at first but ultimately gives in, telling you that he and Riley will be outside before he plants a soft kiss to your injured temple and leaves.

“I'm sorry, I just—“

You barely give him enough time to explain before you're wrapping yourself around him. Your arms, tightly wound around his neck shake with a fear you’ve never known as you borrow your face into the crook of his neck, breathing so hard you think you might pass out.

“I hate you,” you lie, moving to press your nose into his throat.

“I know.”

You place the softest kiss on his Adam’s apple, feeling it vibrate beneath your lips. “I hate everything you stand for. I hate your secrets and your rules and your stupid society.”

“I know.”

Your forehead is firmly pressed against his chin as he says this, the breath of his voice bouncing off your skin in hot puffs that are swiftly replaced by his lips. Gently, he then places kiss after kiss across the expanse of your skin, ignoring the fact that you hate him. Ignoring the fact that he’s completely unworthy of everything that you’re offering him at this moment. Ignoring the way you glare at the decal of his suit with such an unbound rage you want to rip it apart.

“I don’t understand how talking about the canon breaks the canon.”

His lips freeze against your face before he pulls away with a groan, realizing that you know. “It doesn’t.”

“So—“

“The multiversal timeline is delicate.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” you snap, moving away to look him in the eye.

“Anything that deviates from it constitutes as a direct violation of the canon,” he explains, glancing down to watch you scrunch up your face in annoyance. “You know if I actually put in the effort I could break out of here and easily kick your ass?”

“Says the man who lost to a hockey stick.” Fighting the urge to laugh, you press your forehead against his chest, feeling the air enter and exit his lungs.

“It’s not a hockey stick. It’s a fucking titanium bar shaped to look like one.”

“Still.”

The silence that falls over you after that is hard to navigate. You want to talk to him —to ask him more questions so that all of this can be over, but obviously, you know that’s not how it works. One complicated conversation doesn’t lead to an end. It just leads to more complicated conversations. That’s how life works, no matter what universe you’re in, and it sucks.

And it hurts, realizing that no matter how this plays out that Miguel and you can never happen. Sure, he’s never explicitly said it. The words we could never be have never been said or heard between either of you, but you know that’s how this ends. He tells you, he leaves. He doesn’t tell you, he still leaves.

It’s not fair.

“How come this can’t work?”

The question flies out of your mouth before you can even begin to suppress it, causing Miguel to widen his eyes and turn away, almost embarrassed.

“How come you get to go on living life knowing everything that’s ever happened between us in every single universe until the end of time while I have to sit here, pretending to know nothing until I forget?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you pull away, glaring at his chest and hands and face as you stand up. “Why does me knowing what we could’ve had mess with the canon? Huh? What part do I play? Is it because of that stupid battery? Is it because I’m the cause of this that you won’t talk to me?”

He’s staring at the floor now, completely avoiding your eyes and mouth and hands as they continue to ask all the questions he’s never wanted to answer.

“Did I do something to upset you? Did I fuck up your life or something because, Miguel, I don’t fucking know until you tell me!”

You’re crying now. The tears you’ve been holding on to since he pushed you through that portal are falling. Crashing onto the floor in small puddles that hit your knees when you inevitably drop back down. Throughout your frame there’s a rush of pain as you hit the ground and lean forward, pressing your elbows against the space in front of you as you curl into a ball, wishing that he’d say something.

When he doesn’t, you cry more, your body breaking under the pressure of understanding that this is all you’ll get.

It’s obvious then that Miguel isn’t a good man. He doesn’t care for you in the way you deserve. He just wants you. Or more so, this idea of you that he’s formed at the back of his head. To him, you’re nothing more than a temptation he’s created over time. A familiar body surrounding a completely different soul that’ll he always long for.

As you realize this you can hear ripping followed shuffles that grow closer until they’re wrapped around you, pulling you into a chest you wish to crawl inside for all eternity.

“I’ll tell you, okay? I’ll tell you everything, just… please don’t cry. Please.”

TAGGING:@fandxmslxt69 @buckysblondie @leucoratia @avatricu @rexxesgirl @hoe4fiction @erissco @dil3mma @ashjbu @mfrnchsk @sanjisluvbot @deputy-videogamer @arloballs @fictional-character-whore @busy-buzzing @twincesskorisoka @iyyom @beantokki (if you'd like to be added fill out this form, also if you've filled out this form and don't see your name check your settings because it won't let me tag you!)

#who are you when nobody's watching?#miguel o'hara fan fic #miguel o'hara series #miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #summer writes

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demdifferentstories-29 · 11 months

Text

Timelines (Doctor Who (2005) fanfiction)

Story Summary

In Pete's World, Rose has a dream about New Year's 2005 and the Doctor tells her why.

1/1 chapters. For the Tentoo x Rose Microfic Challenge; @tentoorosemicrofics

Prompts: Memories; nightgown; worry.

Rating: General

Pairing: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

Word Count: 1373

Chapter Content/Tags: Dreams; memories; regeneration; hurt/comfort; angst; married couple.

Link (AO3), or read below!

Story

In a cosy little flat not too far from the bustling city, the heart and soul of London, the lights are off and the home is still. Shoes and coats discarded at the door lead to a pristine kitchen and dining table after an evening of cooking and eating, which opposes the living room which is suspended in time with blankets strewn across the couch and an empty packet of jelly babies sitting on the coffee table. Further down the hall is where the master bedroom resides, and in a queen-sized bed, the occupants of this small yet dearly loved residence are tangled in a cuddle. Legs threaded through each other, a back pressed against a chest, a nose buried in the crook of a neck, arms wrapped tightly around a torso, and gentle, slow, rhythmic breaths passing through thin cotton to warm the skin beneath.

The Doctor, per usual, is the big spoon to Rose Tyler’s little spoon. He is very rarely the one to be held in these circumstances, but it is something he doesn’t complain about nor care for. After everything he has been through with his precious girl, he savours any and every opportunity to hold her and ground himself to her body—a simple, yet such a powerful, reminder that this reality is not a conjuring or trickery of the mind.

He was born from the disembodied hand of his full-Time Lord self and had spliced into this partly human counterpart. He is living with Rose in a parallel world and is living the life he could only have dreamed of when he had first met his pink-and-yellow human. They are in love, ferociously so, and are making the most of this blessed opportunity they had been granted.

In his sleep, he sighs happily as the hand that is completely human and original slips beneath Rose’s nightgown from where it rests on her stomach and caresses her soft, warm skin, the slightly cool complexion of the metal band wrapped around his ring finger making his wife shiver subconsciously.

In Rose’s sleep, the now older Defender of Earth who is almost thirty, she often shudders to think, furrows her brow deeply and begins to tense up all over. Not because of her husband’s wandering and cheeky hand. Rather, her mind is starting to play images and memories in her dreams that are not familiar.

She knows a few key details—she’s eighteen in this dream because it’s New Year’s two-thousand-and-five, most definitely in the early hours of the fresh year. She’s at the Powell Estate, and Jackie has just left her after a conversation that feels like the roles of mother and daughter have been swapped. These moments she recognises, remembering the cold nip of the snowy air against her cheeks and fingertips; the desperation she feels to get back into the warmth of the flat; the quiet promise she had made to herself at midnight to have a better year after the fiasco that had been two-thousand-and-four courtesy of Jimmy Stone and a few bad mistakes.

But why is he here, she is asking herself as his pained, winded groan captures her attention. Her dream self doesn’t recognise him, but her disembodied conscious does. Why does he look so sad, so wistful as his chocolate eyes gaze upon her lovingly? Why does he hesitate and speak so vaguely?

Rose gasps and shoots up from slumber without warning, tearing herself out of the Doctor’s arms as her body and mind panic, the memory vividly playing before her in her mind. This wasn’t a dream or modulation and she knows it—this had actually happened. The previous version of that event slips away from her mind like quicksand and the new alterations fill in the gaps. Seeing the Northerner, blue-eyed Doctor regenerate into the man she is married to is a memory that has a layer of bewilderment and familiarity to it now, recognising the younger complexion as the drunkard who told her she was going to have a great year.

What was happening?

“Rose!” her husband exclaims, sitting up with her and wrapping his hands around her shoulders comfortingly. “What is it, love?” he soothes, trying to capture her eyes and attention, brow knotted in deep concern and worry for his beloved.

“You…” she whispers, turning her head to him with tears in her eyes. His singular heart churns and breaks at the sight. “You visited me before we met… in two-thousand-and-five.” His furrowed brow turns from anxious to confused. He hadn’t—it was a simple fact. He had stumbled upon his Rose in Henrick’s; saved her life and changed the course of their timelines for good.

“No, sweetheart—I didn’t,” he counters as politely and gently as possible, rubbing her bare arms and tucking loose hairs behind her ear. He searches her glassy and terrified eyes, trying to ground her in their world. Perhaps she’s had a bad dream, he muses. Memories and fantasy blending together. “There’s no reason…” he begins, but pauses as he thinks about the situation deeper. His face falls into a solemn look as he considers and accepts his theory. “Oh,” he murmurs, enlightened.

“What?” she questions, now her turn to look confused. The Doctor draws in a slow breath, taking one of her hands into his and squeezing gently. He hates having to tell her this, to break the news, but one of the vows he had made to her was that he would never lie to her; never keep her in the dark about anything.

“He’s regenerating,” he elaborates with an empathetic frown. She seizes up a little, quietly devastated to hear this. She knows the Time Lord is afraid to move on from his current form, to change and become a new man, but it is a necessary evil. She reflects on everything for a moment and comes to her own conclusions. If this memory came to her new and altered tonight, and if he was just as upset as he appeared in her mind…

“And… and he’s alone?” she guesses, her voice thick with tension and coming out in a slight croak. He nods, drawing his lips into a thin line. A few tears trickle down her cheeks, her heart aching for the man she loves. His twin draws her into an embrace, rolling tender, comforting circles into her back.

“I know…” he coos, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. He thinks back to the regenerations he experienced during his nine-hundred years of living and shudders at the thought of doing it alone. “He’ll be okay. He’ll find someone,” he assures her, another kiss to her temple. She pulls back from him, staring at him with wet, red eyes. He frowns at the sight and cups her cheek lovingly.

“At least… at least he lives on in you,” she manages to blubber out, offering a trembling smile that he reciprocates as tears of his own spring to life. “I’m so glad your hand got cut off that Christmas,” she laughs, which he chuckles at as well, brushing away the wetness that begins to fall down his face.

“I am too,” he whispers before kissing her softly, smoothing away the last of her tears. She does the same to him. They pull back after a moment and rest their foreheads against each other’s, grinning softly in the darkness of their bedroom and just holding each other’s hands.

“Do… do you think he knows how happy he got to be in this world?” she mumbles.

“Oh, of course, he does,” he hums, nuzzling his nose against hers. “I daydreamed about the possibilities of being with you every day, and I’m sure that after he left he thought about all of those hopes and desires and realised that in another universe he’s living out those fantasies every minute he spends with you,” he explains softly, so quietly as he runs his thumb against her skin. “I’m certain that he gets to live in peace with that knowledge.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, stealing another kiss. “Back to sleep?” she suggests.

“I think so,” he agrees, bundling her into his arms once their backs hit the mattress and drifting back to slumber.

#doctor who fanfiction #ao3fic #ao3 works #read on ao3 #doctorrose #cross posted on ao3 #ao3 link #timepetals #ao3 author #metacrisisdoctorrose #tenrose #tentoo x rose microfic challenge

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maki-matsurra · 1 year

Note

Hey I just finished reading your head canon of being Rocket's daughter (From Guardians of the Galaxy) I was wondering if you could do that but reader gets kidnapped! =]

Hiya! Thanks so much for your request, I am so so sorry it took so long for me to write it out!

Of course, I can do this! I LOVE this idea so much! Now since you didn't state the daughter's age, I'm just going to put her age at 11 years old, and of course, since this is a daughter reader, she will have she/her pronouns!

Hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it!

Thanks so much for your request br34ky0ursp1n3!

Want to send in a request? Start Here!

Rocket didn’t know how it happened.

One moment Pete and he were blasting some thieves left and right on a planet that had a lush forest, protecting their ship from them, then all of a sudden, they heard a shrill yell from behind them.

And Rocket’s heart fell.

He whipped around to see two assholes grabbing his little girl, and yanking her by the arms toward their ship. The raccoon was soon reminded of when he first met the little girl, and how a similar asshole was holding her by the arm the same way.

“HEY! GET YOUR FLARKIN HANDS OFF OF MY KID!” Rocket yelled, completely irate at this point, shooting towards the pair, in retaliation, they held up (Y/N) in front of them, causing her to harshly gasp and hiccup, more tears running down her face.

Quill quickly put Rocket’s gun down, his blue eyes widening as he yelled; “Don’t shoot! You’ll hurt (Y/N)!”

“WELL, I GOTTA DO SOMETHING! THEY GOT (Y/N), QUILL!”

“I UNDERSTAND THAT BUT DON’T-”

They shut up to hear the thieves' ship engines starting up, both of their heads whipping to the side as Rocket saw them starting to close the large loading door, getting one last glance at his little girl’s face.

‘No… Not to her!’

“Follow me in the Milano!” The raccoon yelled behind him as he started to take off towards the nearest tree, placing his weapon on his back, confusing the male Terran.

“Wait, what?!”

“JUST DO IT!” Rocket growled, leaping forward and using his claws to grab the nearest branch, pieces of bark flying off of it as he climbed as fast as he could. Glancing towards the slowly rising ship when he could to make sure they haven’t taken off yet.

Once he was at the tallest branch, he took a deep breath, hyping himself up to do something that he thought was absolutely batshit crazy. But to guarantee (Y/N)’s safety, he would do anything. So, taking one more deep breath, running on all fours to get him more distance…

He jumped off the branch towards the ship’s wing.

He was soaring through the air, his arms reaching out for any solid ground.

And he made it, rolling on his side before being able to stabilize himself, he looked around and saw that the ship was getting higher and higher off the ground, causing slight panic and realization that he did not have a plan in place. But, he swallowed down those thoughts and looked around. That’s when he saw a small vent on the side of the ship, his ears perked up in thought as he crawled towards it. Seeing that it was screwed shut, he tugged on it to try and get the cover off, but when that did not work out, he growled and started to bash his body against it. And once his body collided with it the 5th time, it gave out and he tumbled inside of the ship with a yelp, landing on his side.

He groaned as he slowly rose up from the floor, looking around to see that he was in some kind of hallway of the ship, grabbing his gun from behind him, he loaded it, holding it at the ready as he slowly made his way through the eerily quiet hallway. Every time he turned a corner, he felt his heart stop with worry.

‘Come on… Come on, where are you kid…?’ He wondered in his mind, she was probably so scared, he promised that he would protect her, and he failed. He failed her… But he would not let them get away with it. They picked the wrong daughter to kidnap today.

His ear flicked behind him to hear voices coming from a nearby room, the door still cracked. He slowly walked towards the room, his footsteps almost completely silent. Brown-Amber eyes peered through the crack, but soon widened in shock,

(Y/N)... His little girl… Was tied up in a chair with a gun pointed underneath her chin by some scut stain of a person.

“How many units do you think we’ll get for her?” The man asked, turning towards what Rocket could only guess, was another scut stain.

“Mmm… She’s Terran, right?” The second man questioned, roughly grabbing the young girl's face, causing her to let out another yelp and sob. He ignored her and turned her head from side to side. “Probably a few… Could sell her to slavery and get a good price for her.”

Rocket looked around, trying to find any way to lead them out of the room, and that’s when he saw it.

A power supply box on a nearby wall.

As soon as he saw it, he smirked at it.

The two scut stains continued to talk about their plan to sell (Y/N), when suddenly the lights went out, causing them to look up. “What the flark…?”

They walked towards the door to leave, but as soon as they opened it, one of them was quickly met with something pouncing on him and clawing his face out. He yelled and tried to get the thing off, but was soon met with a punch to the face, knocking him out.

The thing then pounced on the next man, grabbing his hair and beating his forehead into the wall, causing him to lose consciousness as well. (Y/N)’s breath was quick and uneven, basically sobbing out pleases and begging for the person to not hurt her. She shut her eyes tightly, her body shaking, but as soon as she felt a gentle paw on her face, her eyes shot open, and a relieved sob left her mouth as she sputtered out; “R-Rocket?”

“Hey, kiddo. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m here… I’m right here.” He hushed his sobbing little girl as he cut her bonds free, once those were tossed away, he quickly pulled her in a hug, continuing to hush her cries before pulling away, rubbing the stray tears away. “Listen to me, I have a plan, but we gotta leave now, alright?”

“O-okay…”

“You cannot leave my side and you have to keep up, okay?”

“Okay.” She nodded, and with that, he held her hand and started to guide her way through the darkness, using his night vision and his ears to help guide them toward the loading dock. Once he found it, he used the button next to the door to open it, a huge gush of wind filling the ship, the pair covering their faces as they were met with the bright light of the sun. Putting down his hand, he saw Peter right beside them in their own ship just like he hoped he was. The door was opened to show Quill and Gamora right there, waiting for them and yelling their names.

“Alright… We’re gonna have to jump.” Rocket said, nodding while looking at the other ship, missing (Y/N) looking at him with wide eyes. “J-JUMP?!”

“You got any other options?!” He questioned harshly, but soon calmed down once he saw her face, remember that this has never happened before… And she’s just very scared. So, taking a deep breath, he held her hand and gave her a reassuring look.

“Listen, I know you’re scared… But you gotta trust me here… Okay? I wish there was another way, but there isn’t.”

They soon heard yelling voices behind them, causing their heads to whip around behind them. (Y/N) look at Rocket, fear in her eyes before quickly swallowing her nerves down. “Together?”

“Together.” He agreed.

They both took a couple of steps back.

“One…” Rocket counted.

They heard the yelling getting louder behind them.

“T-Two…” The little girl stuttered.

Peter and Gamora raised their arms out as far as they could.

“THREE!”

The two of them ran out and jumped at the same time. It felt like time slowed down as they flew into the air, (Y/N)’s eyes screwed shut as she hoped and prayed that they would make it.

And they did.

(Y/N) landed in Gamora’s arms, causing the woman to stumble a little, while Peter caught Rocket, causing him to stumble onto his back. Mantis quickly shut the doors before rushing towards the group. “Are you two alright?!”

“Y-Yeah…” Rocket groaned, slightly pushing up from Peter’s chest to look at (Y/N), who was still shaking, but overall, she was alright, so she nodded back at Mantis. After she locked eyes with Rocket once more, she spent no time crawling towards him and hugging him once more, crying into his fur, causing him to hush her. “It’s alright… It’s alright.”

“I got you kid… And I ain’t ever lettin’ you go…”

#rocket raccoon #gotg rocket raccoon #gotg fanfiction #rocket gotg #matsurrawrites #oneshot request #br34ky0ursp1n3 #Rocket raccoon x kid!reader

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ptergwen · 3 years

Note

If you do smut can you do like stark!reader x peter parker (spiderman) are dating 3-4 month and y/n and peter had their very fluff first time then next morning y/n has hickies all over her neck and her thights stomach... and tony/ her dad sees it and is confronting them with it😂 i love your stories 🤤

just saying hi

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: veryyyy suggestive, swearing, some pretty embarrassing moments

a/n: thank you babe! i didn’t write the actual smut but y’all can guess what happened 😭 also this is super long i couldn’t help myself

it was everything. it was everything you ever wanted your first time to be and more.

you’d brought up to peter during a make out session one night that you were ready to go farther than you two already have. there was one base you didn’t hit yet. the fourth, the final. you were thinking about it for a while before that, and peter would be lying if he said he didn’t.

your love has always been physical, whether it’s you kissing peter’s cuts after a mission or him tracing hearts on you with his fingers. there’s also the more sexual side of things. that part, you both enjoy just as much, maybe even a little more because you know exactly how to make each other feel good after all the trial and error.

what better way to combine the two than, well, making love?

last night was your sign from the universe, your go ahead to do it. you had the compound to yourselves because your dad had taken all the “big kids” out for the night. you’re both well into college, but he refuses to see you as adults. that meant no peter and no you. you two were a little offended until you realized you could make use of your alone time.

you started off searching for a movie. that turned into you wrestling peter for the remote because you didn’t feel like watching back to the furure yet again. wrestling turned into you on top of him, which turned into you kissing him, which turned into peter throwing the remote somewhere and carrying you up to your room with his lips still on yours.

neither of you had to say it. you were on the same page, same wavelength, two brains in one as peter layed you down and trailed his kisses lower and lower.

peter was so gentle with you, except for when you told him not to be. those were the times he didn’t hold back. he was attentive and sweet and showed you quite a few times how much he loves you. you showed him just the same. yeah, it was really everything.

“morning, baby. you awake yet?” peter hums against the shell of your ear, arms wound comfortably around you. “kinda,” you mumble back with a goofy smile. he presses his lips to your ear and nuzzles his face in the side of your neck. “kinda... how’d you sleep?” you can hear the grin in his voice. his nose nudges your bare skin where a fresh hickey lies and makes you scrunch your own up.

“good, really good. always love sleeping with you.” you’re both aware of the alternate meaning that has now. “funny,” peter lets out a breathy laugh against you and brushes his thumb over your stomach where your shirt got ridden up. you sigh, enjoying his soft touch and reaching behind you to play with his curls. they’re a lot messier than usual from you tugging on them all last night.

peter removes his face from your neck and carefully turns you onto your other side. you’re facing him now, eyes trained on his concerned expression. “hey, just wanna check. how are you feeling? still sore?” a tiny smile stretches your face. he really does care about you and how you feel after everything. you know for a fact most other guys wouldn’t.

“i mean, yeah. you were... it was a lot, but i’ll be fine in a few days i think.” the mention of peter being a lot makes color rush to his face. you laugh quietly at that, cupping one of his cheeks that’s turning pink. “oh. i, um, i didn’t know that. sorry.” he smiles shyly as you smooth your thumb over his warm skin. “don’t be. it wasn’t as bad after i... adjusted a little,” you reassure him, making him lean into your palm.

“i really am sorry, y/n/n. can i make it up to you?” peter checks with you, eyes going up from yours to down your body. he hooks a finger in the waistband of your pajama shorts. “make you feel better?” the way he finishes his question with a bite of his lip is definitely tempting. so is your stomach yelling at you to put some food in it. you’ll have to wait.

“later. right now, you can make me breakfast,” you beam at him and take his hand. peter pushes his palm against yours, letting you lace your fingers together as he puffs some air out of his cheeks. “yeah, that’s gonna go well.” “i’m supervising. it will.” you capture his lips in a kiss, one he instantly reciprocates, free hand resting on your hip. just as it’s heating up, you break it.

“i’m hungry for actual food,” you giggle and roll out of his embrace. “ok, ok, ok. let’s go see what we have,” peter gives in with a chuckle, grabbing the same hand he was just holding and following you down to the kitchen.

he ends up popping some frozen waffles into the toaster, you sitting up on the counter with your phone out while he struggles through the different settings. “should i put it on bake? no, that doesn’t sound right,” he talks to himself with eyes squinted in concentration. “your dad made this thing so... detailed.” it’s an old stark industries toaster, one with options you probably don’t even need.

“yeah because he loves his toast, so maybe don’t break it. he’ll kill you or something,” you half playfully half seriously suggest. peter is one clumsy guy. he tsks at you and crouches down to read the words on the dial. there’s conveniently a setting for waffles, so he hits that one. he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it before.

since he’s down there, he takes one of your ankles in both hands and starts to kiss up your leg. it tickles when he gets to your knee, drawing a giggle out of you, but your phone still blocks his face. you’re doing it on purpose. “baby,” peter tries to get your attention in a soft voice. he presses a couple more kisses to your knee. you have to hold your breath so you don’t laugh again.

“baby girllll,” peter drags out, lips moving up your thigh. he nudges your phone with his nose much like a puppy would. “aye, i’m talkin’ to you here,” he says in a fake new york accent. you finally put it down next to you. “i’m listening.” you’re giving him a satisfied smile as he goes back to kissing you.

“just saying hi,” he looks up at you and moves your shorts aside while he kisses further and further to where you want. you scoot closer to him on the counter.

that’s when he stops. not only stops, gasps in horror. “what?” you ask quickly, his eyes fixed on your inner thighs. “i kind of, uh, marked you up. like, a lot.” he runs a finger gently over the bruised skin. you’re suddenly very aware of it now. it doesn’t exactly hurt, just feels bumpy and weird. you peer down at yourself to see the damage, eyes going wide.

“shit... they’re on my neck, too,” you remember, murmuring to him. you’ll have to cover these up before everyone gets home. worry flashes across peter’s face. “oh my god, i didn’t even realize. it- it was dark and you told me-“ “pete, it’s okay. it’s pretty hot,” you stop his rambling, reaching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. he frowns up at you.

“really? are you sure i didn’t go too far? because you can tell me.” you’ve always appreciated how much peter genuienly values your thoughts on things, in the bedroom and in other parts of your relationship. it does lead to a lot of second guessing, though. you squeeze his shoulder and let out a breath. “i’m sure, okay? it’s really not that serious. i’ll just change so no one can see.”

peter winds an arm around one of your legs, body relaxing ever so slightly under your touch. “okay.” he gives your thigh one final kiss, then rests his chin on it. “what about your neck?” “uh...” you hadn’t considered that yet. “makeup? a scarf?” you’ve seen enough tv to know neither of those work, but they’re your only options.

“yup. mr. stark is really gonna kill me now,” peter says under his breath, tensing up all over again. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “what? we’re literally grown adults, we can do whatever we want-“

tony claps loudly as he steps into the kitchen, announcing his return home. peter jumps up from between your legs faster than fast. he moves so he’s next to you, and you hop down from the counter.

“hello, daughter of mine. spider of man,” your dad greets you two, you pulling down your shorts with a plastered on smile. “or would it be man of spider?” he plucks an apple from the bowl on the table as he ponders his question. steve and wanda file into the room next. “second one,” peter replies, grinning a little too much to be normal. tony takes note of that.

wanda comes over to the fridge for a snack, which is close to where you and peter are. “how was last night?” you ask her to take the attention off you two. wanda settles on a yogurt and turns to you. “it was good. we shared a few hotel rooms, had our own party.” she glances over at peter, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “seems like you two had a fun night of your own.”

peter’s mouth drops open. “how did you-“ he forgot she could read his mind and now knows everything that happened. you slap a hand over your forehead. “you couldn’t think about anything else? for, like, a minute?” you whisper yell at him. he uses his eyes to plead with you. “i’m sorry! i was looking at the hickeys-“ he realizes what he’s saying. “crap.”

shooting you a wink, wanda shuts the fridge and goes to join the rest of the team in the living room. lucky for you and peter, steve started lecturing tony about washing his fruit before he eats it. he didn’t hear any of that. there’s still the problem of your visible hickeys that you have zero seconds to hide.

“how the fuck am i supposed to cover these? they’re right in the center, peter!” you panic, your heart starting to race as peter fumbles for a dish towel. that’s the best he could come up with? “no!” you toss it back at him. he throws it on the counter with a pained look. tony and steve make their way over to you.

“oh, hush. a couple of deadly pesticides won’t shake me, stevey boy,” tony insists and takes another big bite of his apple. steve huffs in disapproval and crosses his arms. “you’re a big baby, tony. if you’re not gonna do the right thing, at least buy organic-“ with the world’s longest sigh, tony chucks his apple into the open garbage can.

“there. no more apple discourse.” steve shakes his head at your dad’s behavior. “that was a waste. you could’ve finished it.” “not with your nagging into my literal ear.” steve raises his hands in surrender before making his way out of the kitchen. tony side steps past him and over to you. “enough of that now. let’s have a welcome home hug from my girl.”

you share a look with peter, a look of pure fear that’s in both of your eyes. he’ll definitely notice the hickeys if he gets that close to you. he holds out his arms expectantly while peter scratches the back of his own neck. “sure, dad. welcome home.” an awkward smile on your lips, you bury your face in your dad’s chest and wrap your arms around him in one motion. this way, he didn’t have time to see you from too close up.

peter exhales in relief at the narrowly avoided disaster. that’s until tony makes a request. “missed me that much, kiddo, huh? come out of there.” “but, i’m so comfortable. i wanna stay like this,” you insist, a niceness to your voice tony immediately sees through. he drops his arms from around you, eyeing peter suspiciously, who averts his gaze to the floor.

“nuh uh, you did something. both of you,” your dad states, taking a step to stand between you and peter. peter gulps down a breath before speaking. “mr. stark, it was-“ tony holds up a hand. “don’t worry, kid. i’ll figure it out.”

he gives peter a proper stare, searching him for clues of some sort. it’s a good thing he isn’t wanda because the details of your night would have been exposed. he couldn’t find anything, so now it’s your turn. he’s a little disappointed you’re the one hiding something.

“oh, y/n. not you,” tony sighs as he gives you a looking over. he starts with your face, your eyes following down as his do. it’s when he gets just past your chin that he sees them. the little hickeys littering your skin, some already deep shades of purple. he rips off his glasses in disbelief.

“absolutely not.” he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his glasses are in. “i’m not seeing this. i’m not seeing this if i don’t look.” you scoff at his reaction. “dad, you know we’re together. you can’t expect us to not...” “don’t say it,” tony begs, getting the urge to hurl his half eaten apple. he turns and faces peter.

“parker, you really did all of that?” peter only blinks, nervously meeting the eyes of his mentor. “to my daughter?” tony adds on to scare him even more. “i- i-“ a burst of frustration comes out of peter. “you left two teenagers alone the whole night. what’d you think was gonna happen?” he’s shocked at his own words, his face showing it. tony raises his eyebrows. both your hands cover your mouth.

not wanting to deal with peter, tony addresses you instead. “i don’t care how you do it, cover those up. don’t let me see them ever again. understood?” you nod a good amount of times and reach for peter’s hand. he’s about to give it, then tony glares down at what’s happening. peter pulls back immediatelty. “understood. we’ll, um, do better next time,” you agree, tony winching at the idea of a next time.

“you, parker... treat a lady with a little more respect, eh?” tony clicks his tongue at him. he’s referring to all the hickeys. peter’s lips form a line, a sarcastic one that says oh well. “i tried, mr. stark, but y/n wanted me to-“ “christ, that’s enough.” tony furiously shakes his head and starts to walk away from you two. “never again!”

you’re thanking god when he sets off for the living room, you hiding your face in peter’s chest, his face in your hair. “that was terrible. that was the worst thing ever,” you say into him. “i’m sorry, baby. we gotta be more careful.”

it’s not over yet because then, the toaster dings. you’d completely forgotten about the waffles. you and peter both separate with your millionth shared look of terror. tony comes rushing back into the room, very familiar with that noise.

“first you destroy my daughter, now my toaster? pete... you’re in for it, kid.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker #marvel #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tony stark

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marveladdictt · 2 years

Text

Sticky Situation

PARING: Peter Parker X Reader

SUMMARY: Peter is gone and has stupidly left his web shooter lying around. What kind of person would you be if you didn’t take them for a spin. Turns our there trickier to use than you thought.

WARNINGS: Swearing, Mentions of guns, Fluff

“Y/N?” Peter asked from his bed,

“Yeah Pete” You tore yourself away from your homework to face the brown-eyed boy.

“Ned said there’s some sort of emergency” You raised your eyebrow at that,

“Is he ok?”

“Oh yeah, yeah of course, he probably just can’t find the next piece to his Lego set. But he wants me to come over ASAP. I- I would usually say no, but I’ve blown him off twice for Spider-Man duties.” He said guiltily.

“It’s no problem Peter, don’t worry about it.” You reassured, you knew he would decline Ned’s invite if you asked but they hadn’t hung out in a while and to be honest, you felt a little guilty yourself since you and Peter always did.

He perked up at that.

“Thanks Y/N! Sorry I have to pause our study date,” You smiled at how adorable he was, he got up and gave you a peck before rushing off.

“I’ll be 20 minutes max!” He yelled from the other room before you heard the door slam shut.

Sighing to yourself you looked around Peters room for something you could do. Glancing at your homework you contemplated whether you should continue with it but quickly shut down that absurd idea. A devilish smile crossed your face when your eyes landed on Peters web shooters. You had always wanted to try them out, see how strong they actually were. And besides, they were just lying there, practically begging you to use them. You’d just shoot a few webs, it’s not like you were about to go swinging around the city, what’s the worst that could happen?

You looked at your phone, you have about 15 minutes before Peter comes home. Getting up, you slowly made your way across the room, freezing instantly and screwing your eyes shut when the floorboard creaked. Peeking one eye open you looked around, smacking yourself on the head when you realised you were home alone. Idiot.

Composing yourself, you casually walked over to the web shooters and picked one up, examining it. You flipped it over and closed one eye as you tried to look through the barrel. Finally, when you finished assessing it- more like procrastinating; you slipped it on. It was loose on your arm since Peters wrists were bigger than yours, but you quickly figured out how to adjust it. Shaking your arm a little to make sure it wouldn’t fall off, you smiled to yourself extending your arm and aiming at one of Peters Star-wars posters. You caught your tongue between your teeth, unintentionally mimicking the face you made when you applied your mascara- the one that Peter always said was adorable, but you thought was weird. You’d seen Peter shoot webs plenty of times, so you were pretty sure you knew what you were doing. Taking a breath you pressed down on the button and fell backwards at the force of the webs, letting out a surprised yelp as you landed on the floor.

“Mk, that’s strong,” you mumbled to yourself as you rubbed your head. You looked up to find the poster covered in webs, a proud smile painted your face at the fact you hit your aim on the first try. Turning to the other web shooter you decided to put them both on, you know- get the full experience.

30ish web blasts later and you were starting to get the hang of it. Well, that was until now.

You spun around to shoot at the wall but accidently shot the bookcase instead, oh shit. The webs started pulling you into it and you could tell it was going to topple at any moment, trying to slow yourself down to lighten the impact you twisted the webs, but ended up getting flipped upside down with them. You let out a strangled cry and you desperately shot webs everywhere. Finally a web latched itself to the corner of the wall and stopped you from getting knocked out by a bookcase. Your small moment of relief was quickly overcome by panic when you realised you were caught in a tangled mess of webbing, hanging upside down with your arm being pulled in an unnatural direction. To make matters worse you heard the front door open, signalling that your boyfriend was home.

Peter opened the door to be met with a loud bang coming from his room. He sucked in a breath and rushed to where the sound came from, worry evident in his stiff movements. Had something happened to you? Did one of his enemies take you? He could never live with himself knowing that he wasn’t able to save you. All these horrible thoughts were running through his head like swarming bees when he finally burst the door open, panting heavily. That’s when his eyes landed on you. Peter had calculated almost every scenario that could have happened to you but never in a million years would he have predicted this. His beautiful sweet girlfriend, hanging upside down, tangled in his webs. Peter didn’t know what to do with himself, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. He tried to awkwardly re-position himself on the door frame a couple times before he found a position he liked, trying desperately not to laugh he let out a cough, making his presents apparent.

“Y/N?” Peters voice startled you, you snapped your head up to face him, eyes wide. Amusement was written all over his face and you felt yourself heating up with embarrassment. Fuck, you need to say something.

“P-Peter, hi” You mentally cursed at yourself for your voice coming out so high pitch.

“Hey Babe” He stifled a laugh, but you could hear it clear as day.

“Wacha up to” He asked smiling.

“Oh you know, just hanging” Peter couldn’t help it anymore. He burst out laughing, grabbing onto the door for support.

“Peterrr” You wined.

“Yeah lovely?” He managed to get out, still wheezing, you just looked at him expectantly.

“Did you need something?” He asked innocently,

“Don’t play dumb Pete, common,” You begged. He tilted his head in response.

“You’re going to have to say it Y/N,” You rolled your eyes giving in, since you could feel all the blood going to your head.

“Peter, will you please help me get down from your webs?” He huffed in victory.

“Of course I will Y/N” But instead of coming toward you, he started to head toward his bed. You were about to ask what he was doing but that’s when you saw him pick up his phone.

“I hate you.” You groaned,

“I love you too,” He smiled, while taking an un-godly amount of photos with your scowling face.

“You done?” You asked, unamused.

“Yup” He said, popping the P. Peter started carefully applying the serum to the webs, not being able to hold in the small giggles that he occasionally let out at the situation.

“You ready?” He asked, you looked at him confused.

“For what-?” Before you could continue to question him, Peter reached his hand up and pored the serum on the final web, causing you to fall. You let out a small yelp before Peters strong arms wrapped around you, catching your frame before you could hit the ground headfirst. He lifted you up and plopped you down on the bed.

“Sooooo, you going to explain what I just walked into, not that I’m complaining though,” He questioned letting out a light chuckle, reminiscing the sight he saw barely a moment ago. You looked down to your lap playing with the sleeves of your Peters hoodie. Peters heart swelled at how adorable you are.

“Ijustwantedtoplaywithyourwebshootersbecasuetheresupercool.” You rushed. Peter looked at you with a bewildered expression,

“What now?” Was all he said, you let out a breath. Oh well, you’ve already embarrassed yourself, may as well go all out.

“I just wanted to play with your web shooters because there super cool.” You looked like a dog who had just been caught eating something she shouldn’t have. Peter found it adorable.

“Wait… so you didn’t have the intention of ending up tangled and upside down in my room?” You glared at him in response.

“Sorry sweets, but you have to admit, this situation is pretty hilarious,” he chuckled,

“Yeah I guess,” You said, starting to see the humour in it.

“You know, next time you could just ask me to use them, I could teach you,” He smiled sweetly,

“Fair enough but I mean, it was only a few webs, I didn’t think I’d have to?” It came out as more of a question.

“Y/N, baby, look around the room, it looks like Halloween threw up in here,” He looked around prompting you to follow his actions. Peter was in fact correct, there were webs covering almost every surface they could.

“Oh gosh, Peter, I’m so sorry, Mays gonna freak!” Your embarrassment had turned to worry in a matter of seconds, you started to ramble on about how you’re so sorry and how you’ll never touch his web shooters again, and how-

“Y/N/N, hey, hey, calm down,” Peter grabbed on to your hand to make you look at him, he could tell you were spiralling.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it, I’ll get the serum and dissolve all the webs before May even gets back. Sure It’ll be a bitch to clean, but it was definitely worth it to be able to see you like that.” You let out a defeated sigh,

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” You stated, Peter shook his head smiling,

“Nope, no I am not.” You looked down to your lap, fiddling with your fingers once again, only this time, there was a small smile stretched on your face.

“Come ‘ere.” Peter said grabbing your waist and pulling you into his lap, he looked deep into your soft eyes, reaching up a hand he caressed your face, rubbing his thumb across your cheek bone. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes.

“So beautiful.” He mumbled. Starting to get shy under his burning gaze, you tried to hide your face in his palm, making Peter let out a breathy laugh. Peter looked at you with complete admiration. Gently, he turned his palm over to lift your chin up, sighing happily when he saw your glowing face.

You looked from Peters coffee eyes to his lips a couple times before slowly leaning in for a kiss. Your lips met Peters soft ones and it felt like fireworks were going off in your stomach, Peter reciprocating the feeling. His hand was cupping your cheek while his other drew unrecognisable patterns on your waist. You leant up to put your arms around his neck, Peter shifting slightly to accommodate you. That’s when you accidently pushed on the web shooter, causing a web to fly out and latch on to Peters neck. You gasped as Peter fell backwards, almost nocking his head on the wall.

“Peter!” You yelped, jumping to help him, he let out a groan as you hoisted him up, rubbing at his neck.

“Oh my goodness, are you ok?” You asked, fussing over him yet not wanting to touch the web in case it attached you to him.

“Yup,” He mumbled, the corner of his mouth turning up into a lopsided smile.

“I’m so sorry Babe, I didn’t mean to.” You said guiltily,

“S’ok, probably got a taste of my own medicine then” You laughed at that,

“Yeah I guess,” You sighed, watching as your boyfriend got up and pored the serum onto his neck.

Peter came back down and sat crossed legged, opposite you on the bed.

“Mighttt be better if I take these back for now,” He reached out to your arms, as you nodded in agreement, not wanting anymore incidents to occur. You watched as Peter took the shooters off, loving how gentle he was with you. You sighed in relief once they were gone, shaking your arm a bit, making Peter laugh.

“But seriously,” You started. “I’m going to take you up on that spider web lessons thing,” Peter smiled at that,

“Hell yeah, I better be careful, you might put me out of a job,” He countered fondly,

“You know it Spidie.” Peter tucked a strand of hair behind your ear,

“You’d make a pretty hot Spider-Woman if I do say so myself”

“Don’t you know it,” You laughed

BONUS PART:

“okokokok,” Peter mumbled to himself as he quickly shoved his suit on so he could go stop the robber that suddenly showed up in Delmar’s. He didn’t have enough time to put his web shooters on or find a place to stash his bag, so he just took them with him as he ran into the shop, throwing his bag somewhere in the corner.

“Hey dude, if you wanted a sandwich so bad you could’ve just asked.” Peter said cockily. The guy swung around, holding his gun up with shaky hands- likely hood is it isn’t even loaded, Peter thought as he assessed the situation.

“Look man, I don’t want any trouble” Peter started to put his shooters on,

“Good, so then you’ll come with me without a fight.” Peter said, but that’s when his cockiness started to run out, he looked down and saw that the web shooter wasn’t going onto his wrist. Realisation hit Peter when he remembered he hadn’t re-adjusted it since you used it. He kept on fiddling with it, trying to get it on, almost dropping one by doing so.

“Hey man, you good?” Asked the robber, confusion lacing his voice at the very peculiar situation. Peters head shot up to the mans, lenses widening.

“Yeah, yup, fine.” He said, turning around so his back was facing the man.

“J-just gimme a sec,” He yelled. The robber lent on a shelf, still not exactly sure what was happening.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck. God dammit Y/N!” Peter whisper shouted, still fiddling with the left shooter.

“Why do your wrists have to be so darn small and cute!?”

#peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker civil war #web shooters #bell writes

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crushed-like-an-ant · 3 years

Text

how to calm down an angry billionaire

Step 1. Deflect.

Peter was good at deflection. Always had been. It was a skill he'd picked up after people constantly tried to ask him about his feelings after his parents died, then again when Ben died. Any questions he didn't want to answer quickly turned into an animated conversation about whatever his mind thought of first (there had been that awkward time he'd asked a fellow orphan how their parents were), an apology and fast excuse to get the hell out of there (mostly worked except when he was panicking and the best he could come up with was a cheese making competition, that had caused a lot of questions Peter would rather never deal with again), or just flat out running away (sometimes he ran into poles or walls which was always a bit embarrassing given he was literally Spider-man). Sometimes Peter had to use all three options. So Peter knew when Tony finally decided to have the dreaded conversation about the whole not-my-first-time-holding-up-a-building thing, he would be able to deflect it. Or so he thought. Turns out, Peter had drastically underestimated the sheer stubbornness of Tony Stark.

It was a lab day, around three weeks after the incident where Peter and Tony had been stuck under a building and Peter stupidly let slip that he’d held up a building before. Peter had thought Tony had forgotten about his words. He was comfortable, tentatively confident and optimistic that it wouldn't be brought up again. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"Hey kid?" Tony said, cutting the comfortable silence between them as they worked, tone slightly hesitant. Peter should've picked up on it. He should've realised. But he'd grown complacent. So Peter ignored the dread pooling in his stomach and lifted his head from the mess of wires in front of him to look at Tony.

"Mr Stark?" he replied with a smile that Tony didn't return. Nor did he try to tell Peter to call him Tony. And that was how Peter knew something was wrong. Nerves skittered down his spine, clod fingers of dread snaking around his neck as nervous energy filled him and he began to tap on the desk. Anything to distract himself from the sorrow and worry shining in his mentor's brown eyes.

"Look kid, uh, I," Tony fumbled for words. Shit. This was bad. If Tony Stark was struggling to say something, you knew it was serious. Peter just stared at him in silence,unsure of what to say, anxiety coursing through his veins at the grimace that clouded Tony's features. What could possibly have gotten him into this mood? Had Peter done something wrong? Was he gonna, oh god, was he gonna take the suit? "Pete, I need to know what you meant when we were under the building," Tony finally managed to say, Peter relaxing. Oh. That was all?

"I just meant that I'd lifted a lot of heavy things," Peter half-lied, looking Tony straight in the eyes and lying to his face, mindful to make sure his tells were carefully under control. Training with Daredevil - despite Tony's misgivings about Double D - had been one of the best decisions Peter had ever made. He felt a twinge of guilt as he lied to Tony but it's not like he could tell the truth. And he wasn't really lying. Just withholding the entire truth. He shrugged nonchalantly, "Anyways, you reckon you can help me with this? I'm stuck. My mind kinda decided to go and die on me." Peter chuckled quietly. Tony wasn't laughing.

"I want to believe you, kid," Tony told him, "I really do. But I can't. You had a panic attack under there. What aren't you telling me Peter? Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything. And I don't want to pressure you into telling me anything until you're ready but I-I just-I need to know what happened. I need to know what you meant." Peter's resolve almost broke as Tony's voice broke. No. He couldn't tell Tony. Not only would Tony think he was weak, but Peter knew that Mr Stark would blame himself because he took the suit. Peter couldn't let him do that. Option one had failed him, so it was onto option 2. Make a quick exit without raising any suspicions. Yeah, he didn't think that was gonna work. Worth a shot though.

"Hey, Mr Stark," Peter said after checking his watch and pretending to look shocked at the time, "I'm really sorry but I have to go. I promised Ned we'd work on our Bio project tonight and I'm already seven minutes late." Mr Stark raised an eyebrow and pulled up a picture of Ned on his holiday in California.

"Nice try kid," Tony replied drily. Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. Time for option three then.

"I-I don't really know how to tell you, uh," Peter deliberately stuttered, guilt eating him up inside as he put on an act for Tony. For option three to work, Peter had to catch Tony off guard otherwise he'd react too quickly and lock the tower down. His act work, Tony's features softening and body relaxing.

"It's okay, bambino, take your time." And if that didn't make him feel like a horrible person, nothing would. Peter stood and padded over to some machinery near the exit, pretending to be trying to busy himself as he worked himself up to answering Tony when he was actually getting closer to the door.

"I, uh," Peter stumbled. Tony was now far away enough that Peter could easily run without being grabbed and stopped. The door was right there. Peter took his opportunity. He ran. Out the door, down the hallway, flying to the elevator. Pressing the button frantically, Peter groaned when nothing happened. Great. Tony had stopped the elevators. Sighing, Peter pulled the mask from his pocket and pulled it over his head, sprinting at the window. Peter burst through the window in a shower of glass, activating his web shooters as he fell, quickly shooting a web and catching himself. And he was swinging, swinging, swinging. Allowing himself to smile at his escape, Peter was unprepared when he was grabbed from behind by two cold metal hands. Thanks for nothing spidey sense. Tony flew a sulking Peter back through the broken window and into one of the meeting rooms, setting him down firmly in a seat. Peter crossed his arms, pouting as he pulled off his mask, Tony's Iron Man suit unfolding around him and the man stepping out, an unimpressed look painted across his features.

"You done deflecting yet?" Tony asked, a single eyebrow raised. Damn. Peter wished he could do that. Alas, no amount of practising in front of a mirror had ever given him the talent to lift one eyebrow and not look like a demented monkey. Time for a different strategy. Deflection had failed him. But Peter would not go down easy.

~~~

Step 2. Deny.

The unfortunate thing about this step was that Peter would always over-deny. He would deny everything or nothing. There was no in between. For example, he was once denying eating the last bit of chocolate and ended up accidentally telling May his name wasn't Peter and that he was an alien from outer space with a severe lettuce allergy. Don't ask. Peter really didn't want to relive that trauma. So although Peter always tried his best with denial, it never really worked out in his favour. Honestly, it was through sheer dumb luck that he managed to keep Spider-Man a secret from his friends and family for so long. It was probably some good karma that had been waiting for the perfect moment to help him out. It was a little late but hey, better late than never right?

"No," Peter blurted in a panic. Shock splashed across Tony's face as he folded his arms.

"Kid, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Tony told him gently.

"No," Peter exclaimed again, hurt painting the billionaire's face. "I mean, yes." Shitshitshitshitshit. Peter was an idiot. He had to deny everything - but not everything, Peter, remember the lettuce incident - so Mr Stark wouldn't find out. But Peter had always been shit at denial.

"Look, I know this is probably hard for you to talk about," Tony continued on, oblivious to Peter's internal panic, "but I won't judge you. I love you, bambino. You know that right? And I'll support you no matter what but I can't help you if you don't let me."

"No," Peter said. It was the only word he knew. Any more and he would have another lettuce incident or he'd end up rambling the truth. He couldn't do that. So his current vocabulary was limited to 'no', 'no', 'no' with a side of 'no'. Which wasn't suspicious at all. Totally.

"What the hell, kid?" Tony asked, mostly confused, slight irritation colouring his tone. Peter was hyper-aware of the thundering beat his heart was drumming to, the way Tony's slightly picked up when he said 'no', the sweat covering his body like a second skin. Tony's sigh sounded like a bomb to his sensitive ears, the sharp intake of breath before he spoke like a blaring alarm. "What did you mean when you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I didn't," Peter responded, brain not quite computing, "nothing happened." Tony's gaze narrowed. Shit. Was Tony going to take the suit if he didn't tell him? But Peter just couldn't tell him. He couldn't.

"Fucking hell Peter, just tell me dammit!" Tony exclaimed, running a hand through his messy brown hair in frustration. Peter knew - with the certainty that he knew his own name or the colour of his eyes - that denial had failed him. Time for Peter's next strategy.

~~~

Step 3. Stretch the truth.

When Peter's other strategies failed him, he turned to stretching the truth. It was simple really, just take the truth and dial it down from boiling hot to freezing cold and give it to the person on a silver platter with a charmingly innocent - and only slightly nervous - smile. Half-truths were easy to fool people with. Someone had said that the best lies were the ones based on truth. Peter couldn't remember who exactly had said that. He had never been very good with that sort of stuff, unlike MJ. So although stretching the truth was Peter's third option, he'd always been surprisingly good at it. People seemed to believe he was too innocent to be able to lie. Which was absurd because he'd spent ten years living with his Aunt and her terrible cooking and she still didn't know he hated her walnut date loaf.

"Okay," Peter conceded quietly and the rage slowly left Tony as he deflated like a balloon, looking smaller without all the fury. Peter sat down in front of Tony. "It was back in the fight with The Vulture and he threw a wall at me. I caught it and threw it back at him but he dodged it with his super awesome flying skills." Tony looked him straight in the eyes for a few seconds, Peter holding his gaze before Tony leaned forward.

"Cut the bullshit," Tony whispered, dangerously quiet, tightly compressed anger stemming from worry swimming in his brown eyes. "A wall wouldn't stay together if it was thrown, caught and thrown back. Even then, you wouldn't say it wasn't your first time while holding a building up unless you'd held up a fucking building already. And you wouldn't have a panic attack from holding up a building about something thrown at you. So stop lying to me, Peter Benjamin Parker." Damn. The full name. Peter released a heavy exhale, knowing he was beaten. He had to tell Mr Stark the truth.

"It actually was in the fight with the Vulture," Peter began, "so I wasn't lying about that. And I did have to catch a few walls." Tony raised his eyebrows at Peter's weak attempts at defending himself. "I went to his warehouse and he sent his flying suit at me. It wasn't particularly good at attacking 'cause it hadn't even touched me. I said that and Toomes told me it wasn't trying to." Tony inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, Peter trying not to listen to how Tony's hands still hit each other gently. Enhanced hearing sucked sometimes. "He had directed the suit to take out all the supports in the building." Tony gasped, expression contorted into one of such extreme guilt and sorrow that Peter wanted to shelter Tony from the world for the rest of his days because goddammit he's seen too much and been through enough and couldn't the world just give him a fucking break for once? No one deserved one more than Mr Stark did.

"I took the suit," Tony whispered, voice thick with emotion, "I took the suit. It was your only protection, damn it, and I took the fucking suit!" Tony was yelling now, self-hatred and rage dancing in his wild brown eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Mr Stark," Peter tried to tell him.

"How?" Tony scoffed, laughing bitterly, "How was this not my fault. I took the suit and you got hurt because of my mistake."

"It's okay, Mr Stark, you didn't know," Peter said.

"But I should've," Tony replied, "I should've known." Peter's features hardened, spine turning to steel. He wouldn't let Mr Stark blame himself for this. The blame was on Toomes and only on Toomes.

"Did you pilot the Vulture suit?" Peter asked firmly.

"What?"

"Did. You. Pilot. The. Vulture. Suit." Peter repeated, staring defiantly at Tony.

"No, of course not," Tony replied, slight confusion clinging to his features.

"And did you cause the building to fall?" he continued.

"No."

"Then it's not your fault," Peter told him simply.

"Kid, I shouldn't have taken the suit," Tony began, dropping his head into his hands. He opened his mouth to continue but Peter cut him off before he could say anything equally self-deprecating.

"Maybe," Peter allowed, "but then I wouldn't found out I was strong enough to get back up again. 'If you're nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it'. You told me that. I thought the suit made Spider-man and I lost sight of what Spider-man really meant. God, I started out in a fricking onesie. That's what Spider-man represents. Not a hero with a multi-million dollar suit, but someone with nothing but their will to save others. Without you taking the suit, I never would've remembered everything Spider-man stood for.; With great power comes great responsibility. You gave me that tough love moment and I needed it. Now it's my turn to dish out some tough love for you." Peter took a deep breath. "You, Tony Stark, are being a fucking idiot. The blame of what happened in the past lies with Adrian Toomes, and Adrian Toomes alone. So stop this self-deprecating bullshit and use your fucking brain for once in your life. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault." Tony looked up at him, the self-hatred drained from his features, a slight smile adorning his lips which Peter returned.

"You're right, kid," Tony said, "when did you get this wise?"

"I've always been this wise, Mr Stark, I just wanted you to feel better about your lack of common sense," Peter joked, Tony chuckling.

"It wasn't my fault," Tony repeated. Peter tilted his head, confused at the strange undertone in Tony's voice only to see a fire lit in his caramel eyes. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

And it was then that he knew he fucked up.

~~~

Step 4. Try some breathing exercises.

Peter had always been shit at breathing exercise. He just didn't have the patience for them. While he was breathing, someone could be getting raped in an alley, a shop could be getting robbed, or a kid could be getting beat up. So - despite the constant reminders to just try the damn breathing exercises for the love of god - Peter had never done anything of the sort. How could he? With his enhanced senses, it was impossible to relax. Would you be able to sit there and breathe while screams rang in your ears and sobbing pounded in your mind? Naturally, this meant that Peter wasn't the most experienced when it came to said breathing exercises. Maybe he should've practised. Life always had a funny way of throwing Peter in the deep end headfirst and tied to a ten ton weight and expecting him to swim. However, he had once read in a self-help book that breathing exercises were good for calming people down, so he decided to hit fuck it for the sixth time in the last 48 hours and try it out. I mean, it was that or release an angry billionaire in a metal suit decked out with the most advanced weapons in the world (except for maybe what HYDRA had because honestly Peter knew better than to underestimate them and he mildly respected their cockroach-like survival skills) who was hell-bent on revenge and gave zero fucks into the world. The second option was beginning to sound quite tempting, Peter would be honest.

"Mr Stark, you need to calm down," Peter told the man gently, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony tilted his head up to look at Peter - rage splashed across his face, tension lining his body - before he shrugged off Peter's hand and jerked into a standing position. And the room was suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, because damn had Tony always been that scary. A cloud of darkness surrounded Tony, filling the lab up and winding itself slowly around Peter's neck, stealing the breath from his lungs. Tony stormed through the lab, footsteps like thunder, anger crackling like lightning. Desperately, Peter followed the billionaire. "Mr Stark, Mr Stark, please calm down," Peter pleaded with him.

"No," Tony spoke, voice cold and flat, tone totally devoid of emotion, so totally opposite to the fury painting his entire body like a second skin. "No I will not calm down, Peter. He dropped a fucking building on you. He deserves to die."

"But you don't deserve to live with the guilt of killing him," Peter begged, tugging at Tony's sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop the man from his warpath. Peter knew he could easily overpower Tony. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. "Trust me, I know how it feels to want revenge, I really do, but you have to let it go. Please, Mr Stark."

"Dammit Peter, he hurt you!" Tony shouted, whirling around to face Peter, features twisted and manically furious. "He hurt you a-and I wasn't there and you had to deal with being crushed by a fucking building and then you got up and kept fighting because of that sick son of a bitch so I swear to fucking god I will murder him." Tony's eyes held a frenzied wildness in them, chest heaving up and down, Peter could hear his heart racing.

"Mr Stark, try some breathing," Peter said out of desperation, completely and utterly out of ideas. "Just breath. In and out, in and out." Tony's momentary surprise shocked him out of his anger, confusion flickering across his face momentarily before the anger was back, stronger than ever. Tony pivoted on his heel and walked away from Peter, heading towards where he kept his suits and leaving a heavy sense of dread pooling in Peter's stomach and twisting his insides in knots. So breathing hadn't worked. Thanks for nothing self-help books.

~~~

Step 5. Hack the most advanced AI in the world.

When in doubt, do something potentially illegal. A mugger had once told Peter that after Peter caught her trying to rob a young man. That lady had been fucking badass. It was honestly a shame she's gone to prison but a criminal is a criminal. Turns out the lady had been responsible for a string of high-end bank and jewellery robberies. Peter wondered how she was doing. Probably not well, considering how shit the American jail system is. Peter always tried to find alternative ways to stop criminals, only really sending in the pedophiles, rapists, murderers and the more professional robbers. Sometimes people had no choice in the shitty hand life had dealt them and goddamn if Peter didn't get that. People were just pushed and pushed until they were left with nothing but desperation. Maybe if the government or any of the fucking American systems were better or did their jobs properly then people wouldn't have to steal just to keep themselves and their families from starvation. Maybe Toomes wouldn't have started his alien tech business and then none of this would have even happened. Peter wouldn't be in this situation right now. And Peter was now out of options. He had an angry billionaire on his hands and absolutely no idea what to do. So, he took the lady's advice and decided to do something potentially illegal. He hacked the most advance AI in the world. (What, like it's hard?)

"Hey FRI?" Peter called with a wince.

"Yes, Peter," the AI replied.

"I'm really sorry," Peter told her before bringing up FRIDAY's code. (A/N - I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COMPUTERS SO THIS IS GONNA BE SOME VAGUE, QUESTIONABLE AF HACKING) Fingers flying across the keys of the laptop, Peter bit his lip in concentration, brows furrowed. He had to hurry and shut down Mr Stark's suits before he reached them and left to murder Toomes. Adrenaline coursed through his body, brain whirring to life like the computer before him as he deleted lines of code, rewriting and altering the code that created FRIDAY as he tore down the firewalls Mr Stark had built. Peter vaguely registered that this was probably illegal and that Mr Stark would most definitely be mad about this later but he quickly waved the thoughts away. He didn't have time for them, he didn't have time, he didn't have time. Barely registering what he was doing, Peter submerged himself into the world of numbers, immersing himself completely in the ocean of lines of code, fingers instinctively knowing what t do as though he'd been born to hack. Again, probably not a great thing that this was so easy. But computers had always made sense to Peter. After what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, Peter was into FRIDAY's system. And with a few taps, Peter shut down the suits. Quickly exiting the browser, Peter dropped his head into his hands. He'd done it. With a long exhale, Peter relaxed, leaning back into his chair and running his shaking hands through his hair. An enraged roar broke the peaceful quiet surrounding Peter and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored it, Mr Stark's anger would go away. He couldn't deal with this shit. Peter was too young to die.

"Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to fucking god-"

"You probably shouldn't fuck god, Mr Stark," Peter couldn't resist remarking with a shit-eating grin. "People might get a bit mad. And who knows, you may even end up pregnant which I can't imagine will be very fun."

"What the fuck?" Tony whispered into the silence that followed Peter's statement. "I don't even want to know what goes on in your brain." Peter hummed in agreement. To be honest, he had no idea what was going on up there half the time. He was just along for the ride. And hey, if it distracted Mr Stark from his anger then it was a win win situation right? (How Peter won in this scenario he didn't know but he didn't question it).

"It's the trauma," Peter replied flippantly, as casual as one would be if they were discussing the weather.

"The-" Tony broke off into angry, confused gibberish that Peter didn't even try to decipher. Crisis averted. Now to deal with the aftermath.

~~~

Step 6. Watch a movie.

Peter Parker wasn't good with emotions. Being a socially awkward sixteen-year-old genius had that effect on a person. Not to mention the fact that he had a crime-fighting, sarcastic alter ego. Yeah, he wasn't great with feelings. Especially not his own. And now he was attempting to help Mr Stark clam down after the whole Toomes-dropping-a-building-on-him-reveal thing. And the only way an emotionally stunted teenage genius superhero knew how to help an emotionally stunted adult genius superhero was something most people would not class as a healthy coping mechanism. Distraction. Preferably with a movie.

"Hey Mr Stark, wanna watch Empire Strikes Back?" Peter asked. Tony fell into a confused silence which Peter took as an agreement. "Yes? Perfect, let's go." Grabbing Tony's arm, Peter tugged him out of the lab and into the elevator, confusion splashed across Tony's features as they entered the movie room. Peter dropped onto the expensive yet incredibly comfortable couch in the centre of the room, pulling Tony down beside him. "Hey FRI? Can you please play The Empire Strikes Back."

"Certainly, Peter," FRIDAY replied, a hint of warmth in her robotic voice. The Star Wars theme filled the room, Peter lips kicking up into a smile at the familiar sound. And as the movie played, Peter reciting every single line with the characters, he felt the rage and tension slowly drain out of his mentor as he relaxed.

"Hey, kid," Tony whispered, interrupting Luke and Darth Vader's showdown. "I sorry for getting angry. I just... I just didn't know what to do. Instead of asking if you were okay I blamed myself and wanted to frigging murder a guy who's already suffering in prison."

"It's okay, Mr Stark," Peter responded with a smile, sincerity gracing his tone. "I get it. After Ben died, I found his murderer. I almost killed the guy," Peter chuckled without humour, Tony watching him with sad eyes, the movie forgotten. "Point is, I know how it feels to want revenge. Don't apologise for being human."

"You really are the best of us all, kid," Tony remarked, a smile adoring his face, features relaxed as he looked at Peter.

"I learned from the best," Peter replied with a shrug.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, throat tight with emotion.

"I meant May," Peter joked lightly, the heavy emotion clouding the room vanishing as Tony laughed.

"Are you okay, kid?" Tony asked, seriousness settling over them again.

"Honestly?" Peter responded, "no. But that's alright. Because I will be." Peter held Tony's gaze, warmth blossoming in his chest at his mentor's caring eyes, as Darth Vader's voice filled the room.

"No, I am your father," Darth Vader spoke. Peter turned back to the movie, watching as Luke jumped and fell.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," Tony whispered, "we're both gonna be okay."

Because Peter would be okay. So Tony was okay too.

And if Pepper walked in three hours later to find them curled up against each other, fast asleep she never said anything. (She got FRIDAY to take a photo and saved it to Irondad and Spiderson - an unsurprisingly large file. She should probably get Peter to do a DNA test. They did look rather similar)

#fanfic #peter parker #spider-man #iron man #irondad #father-son #pepper potts #unhealed trauma #marvel #the avengers #spider son #bamf peter parker #tired dad Tony #tony stark #aunt may

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fandomficsnstuff · 3 years

Text

Perfect Match

Daryl x Reader

(Warnings: Mentions of gore and violence, also some flashbacks of it, toughts of suicide, it gets kinda dark guys, but gets lighter at the end!)

(It takes place before they find the prison, but after the CDC)

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You panted as you kept running, your lungs burned, your legs ached, you felt dizzy, your heart pounded in your chest. You clutched the straps of your bag, searching for any kind of grounding, anything to hold on to. You felt the wound on your shoulder sting as yet another branch slapped across your wound as you ran, your feet starting to become numb but you kept going, you could hear your own heart in your ears, it sounded like someone banged a drum inside of your head, you could barely hear anything else.

You looked behind you, seeing if your pursuers were still behind you, so far you couldn’t see anyone, but you couldn’t take the chance, you kept running, and just as you looked back you bumped against something, it wasn’t completely solid, it moved as you fell, falling to the ground itself, and you felt a rush of panic, what if it was one of them? Best scenario it was one of the dead, the dead you could handle, but those… those monsters you couldn’t. You raised your head as you pulled yourself up, and seeing it wasn’t one of the dead, you grew even more scared, quickly pulling out the gun you had no idea how to use, it only had one bullet left, it felt heavy in your hands, almost as if it would drop out of your hand at any second, so you used both hands to hold it up, pointing it at the man with a… crossbow?... who looked just as confused as you “ah… what the hell…?” he looked up and saw you, instantly freezing for a second or two, before slowly getting up “the hell, ya can’t see or something?” he snapped at you, making you flinch, which is when he finally started to look at you, your shaking hands, your bleeding arm, how pale and tired you looked. You looked horrified, and when he tried to take a step closer to you you finally spoke up “DON’T! D-Don’t come any closer… I-I’ll s-shoot if I have to!” your voice was broken, scared, you surprised yourself by being able to speak at all. He raised his hands “it’s alright… I ain’t gonna hurt ya” he kneeled down so he wouldn’t be standing so tall, hovering over you, and it seemed to work as you relaxed a little, but only a little. “What’s ya name?” he asked after a moment of silence, making you frown, about to answer when you heard distant voices, instantly on edge again “n-no… n-n-no t-they can’t f-find me” you whispered, shaking even more than before. Your breath picked back up as you thought over your options, you couldn’t go back, you wouldn’t, and you weren’t sure how much further you could run, your legs and lungs couldn’t take it. A thought crossed your mind, you didn’t know how to shoot but… you only had one bullet left, it wouldn’t be enough fight all of them off, you finally felt tears in your eyes as you closed them and quickly raised the gun to your head, all this time, even though you ran so much it hurt, you never shed a tear, even though those bastards threw everything they had at you, you never gave them the satisfaction. You suddenly fell to the ground, your mind confused, you hadn’t pulled the trigger yet so why… you opened your eyes to see the stranger standing with the gun in his hand now, your own hand empty, void of where it should be.

You stared at him in shock, anger flooding your veins “no! I can’t go back! I can’t go back to those monsters!” you hissed at him, hearing the men come close, some even whistled out for you and laughed afterwards. You felt yourself being pulled up to your feet, an arm gripping your arm as he dragged you along, forcing your feet to run with him. You still felt the tears roll down your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to register it fully, not until you were shoved against a large tree, several feet wide. You whimpered out of fear and also from exhaustion as the man let go of you, moving his feet to sweep the ground where you had previously been running, once he was satisfied he grabbed your arm and ran with you once again, you surprised yourself as you felt your legs run with him this time, instead of being dragged along. You found yourself running with him, his hand didn’t hold you the same way anymore, now it was more to make sure you kept moving, than it was to move you.

Your feet hit what felt like a road, and once the stranger stopped you fell to your knees on the ground, heaving and coughing for air, not even noticing the strangers surrounding you, your heart pounded so loudly in your ears that you couldn’t hear them talking either. You flinched as a hand touched your shoulder, making you quickly turn and try to crawl away, only to see a woman with short grey hair, behind her stood a pregnant woman with long brown hair and a little boy besides her, holding her hand. You looked around, seeing more people, and a part of you was even more horrified, which the woman kneeling in front of you saw, quickly showing her hands “hey i-it’s okay… it’s okay, we won’t hurt you, my name is Carol” your mouth felt dry as you tried to respond, but instead your eyes landed on the man who had led you here, he was panting heavily as well, standing next to a man with a revolver, both of them standing near the tree line that you had appeared from. Carol followed your gaze “that’s Daryl, and that’s Rick” you only gave Rick a glance, your eyes stayed on Daryl, taking in each of his unique features, and Carol noticed, giving a subtle nod for him to come closer, which he did.

“It’s alright now” Carol gave you a heart warming smile, and you finally managed to tear your eyes away from Daryl to look at her “(Y/N)” you rasped, God, your voice was barely there, you tried to speak loudly, but your voice betrayed you, showing just how tired you were. “(Y/N), it's nice to meet ya” an older man appeared by your side “I’m Hershel, these are my two girls Maggie and Beth” he gestured to two girls, who gave you a small smile “ and as you now know, that’s Daryl and Rick and Carol, would you mind if I took a look at ya? It’s alright I’m a doctor” he hinted at your arm that was still bleeding, you hesitated before nodding, Carol helping you get up as Hershel approached, but as soon as you tried to stand your legs buckled, you almost hit the ground, almost, but you felt a pair of hands catch you, the same pair of hands that had pulled the gun from your hands, the same that had pulled you along with him. You glanced at Daryl, who stood awkwardly holding you up, like he wasn’t comfortable with it, and frankly neither was you, but it was that or the ground.

“How long have ya been runnin’ for miss?” you blinked tiredly at Hershel’s question, even trying to think of an answer seemed like running all over again “u-uhm… a-... a few days, I think? I-I don’t know” you moved away from Daryl, indicating that you were ready to stand on your own, and once he let go of you he stepped back a bit, allowing Hershel to take a look at you. Hershel nodded at your answer, glancing at your shoulder, which you noticed “it’s not a bite, I swear…” he looked like he didn’t believe you, making you nervous “i-it’s… it’s a-... I cut myself… on a tree that I bumped into while running… that’s it” you were never a good liar, but you didn’t trust these people with the truth either, but you tiredly moved your arm to roll up your sleeve anyway, showing the wound, one of a few, Hershel glanced at Rick, who walked over, inspecting the wound before nodding “it ain’t a bite” he declared and you quickly rolled down your sleeve before they could see anything else “but it ain’t a knife either” you gulped as you looked down “is it a scratch?” you looked at him confused “n-no… why would a scratch matter it’s not a bite…?” before Rick could say anything Hershel jumped in “scratches are the same at bites, that’s why” you nodded gently at his words “so,” Rick started, making you look at him again “what is it?” you frowned once again “it’s none of your damn business” you were beginning to grow nervous again, what if these people were like the people before? Or worse? No, no there was no one worse but them, but still, you took a risk standing around here, you had caught your breath, you should thank them and keep running.

Rick scoffed as he looked at everyone else, his hands on his belt where his revolver was, making you instantly take a step back, eyeing him carefully. But the pregnant woman stepped up to Rick, whispering something to him, making him look at her, sigh and then look at you “listen, we just wanna help” now it was your turn to scoff “bullshit, no one helps anyone just for the fun of it” you snapped, mentally getting ready to run, but the pregnant woman stepped forward “it’s alright, my name is Lori, this is my son Carl,” she gestured to the little boy “you’re scared, I can see that, and if you ain’t ready to tell us why then that’s alright, but you need to tell us who you were running from and why, we wanna help but we can’t if you don’t allow us to” you thought over her words, they didn’t seem like the people to hurt you, they had a kid with them an a pregnant woman for pete’s sake, but who knew? You sighed, taking a glance at Daryl before looking back to Lori, biting your lips nervously “my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I lived with my family not far from here, a few days… but… some people showed up, and they…” you began to tear up “we just wanted to help, we had lots of food and space a-and water and we thought-...” Lori nodded and approached you slowly, letting you back away if you wanted to, but you didn’t, you let her embrace you, you let her hold you as she glanced at Rick, making Rick sigh again as he pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking things over “we don’t have much food or water, we don’t stay too long in one place, but…” you looked at him, studying the rest of the group before nodding “please, thank you” Rick nodded, looking at everyone else “alright… we’ll need to find a place for tonight, secure it, we-”

“What about the old prison?” everyone looked towards you, making you nervous again “t-there’s this o-old prison, it’s not close but, it’s not far either, there’s this huge courtyard… if we can clear it it’d be a good place… there’s fences, guardtowers, gates, there’s probably some forgotten weapons in the watchtowers…” you caught Daryl looking at you once you finished talking, but he quickly looked away. “Alright, where is this prison?”

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You carried Judith on your hip, Beth needed a break and you could understand why, she was getting heavy, but you didn’t mind, she was adorable, Daryl even called her little ass kicker. You hummed gently as you sat down at a table, setting Judith in your lap as you gave her an old toy Glenn and Maggie had found on a supply run, she giggled and reached for it, once you were sure she had a good grip on it you let her have it, you loved seeing how she moved her arms around with it and laughed at the simple gesture. You barely heard footsteps approach, but seeing Carol you smiled “hey” you greeted before looking back at Judith, Carol smiled back at you “hey, Daryl said he wanted to talk to you, he’s up in the eastern watch tower” you frowned and sighed “can you take her?” Carol nodded, and you handed Judith to her “see ya later troublemaker” you waved at Judith as you walked outside.

You knocked gently on the door before entering, seeing Daryl leaning against the wall, smoking, he looked confused seeing you “hey, Carol said you wanted to talk?” you looked down, since the day where he basically saved your life, you had gotten to know him little by little, and every piece of him you uncovered you liked more than the last, no matter what it was. “What? Nah, she said you wanted to talk to me?” you frowned, as did he, Carol may or may not have known of your fondness for the silent archer, but you didn’t understand why she would set it up, there was no way that Daryl would ever feel the same, and you were okay with that, as long as you had what you had with him now, you wouldn’t risk that for something that would never happen.

You entered the small room raised above the prison, closing the door behind you “you sure?” he nodded, putting out his cigarette as he looked over the courtyard, and you followed his gaze, seeing Carol, and she waved at you both, making Daryl smile as he waved back, although with less enthusiasm. It made your smile falter, seeing him smile at her like that, and you turned around “s-sorry there must have been a mistake then… maybe I-I heard wrong” you chuckled nervously, reaching for the door knob when his voice stopped you “you don’t have to leave, ya know” you turned around to face him, giving him a forced smile “and none of that shit either” he waved a finger at your face and you frowned “what’re you talking about?” he scoffed “none of that fake smile shit, if you ain’t in the mood for it, then don’t” some might find his words a bit offensive, but you found an odd sort of comfort in them, making you nod and sit down on a chair across from him.

After a little while you looked at him, studying his features… okay okay you were admiring them, but come on, he is everything to admire. “She say what I wanted to talk about?” you blinked confused, now fully aware that he was looking at you, and had probably caught you ‘studying’ his face a little too much, making you blush and look away “nope, you?” he hummed low “nah, said something ‘bout you needing to see me, she said it was important” now it was your turn to hum “weren’t you going on a hunt today though?” you looked back at him to see him shrug as he looked away from you, looking down at his feet “well… she said it was important…” he mumbled, and you swore you saw his ears flush a little, and you bet his cheeks were pink, if he’d only look at you and not his boots, but the thought made you smile, Daryl cancelling a hunt because he thought you wanted to talk about something important. “Well… we shouldn’t disappoint then” he looked at you confused, making you shrug with an amused smile “let’s talk about something important then” he scoffed but you could still see him smile as he looked out of the window “like what?” he looked back to you and you hummed low in thought “well, let’s talk about…” you looked out the window yourself, realizing that all the things that seemed important before, were meaningless now, school, work, hobbies, none of that mattered anymore, except… “what about family and friends?” you looked back at him “huh?” he was clearly confused, making you giggle lightly “I just… realized that not much matters anymore… Things that were important before just seem…. meaningless now, jobs, school, how work is going, money, hobbies, all except friends and family” he just looked at you as you spoke, making you blush, you felt the tips of your ears grow a bit hot.

“Alright, you start then” you narrowed your eyes at him before shrugging again “family isn't really what it used to be. It used to be family dinners, birthdays, hell, even baby showers and holidays… now…” you gently shook your head, looking at the ground before back to him “now it’s us, you know? We don’t celebrate christmas or thanksgiving, or our birthdays together, that ain’t what makes us a family. What makes us family is this, small moments like this… or… like when you found me in the woods… I was so ready to give up, I thought that… I was either going to die there and then on my own terms or go back to those… monsters… I didn’t think I had a choice. You gave me a choice… family isn’t those stupid christmas cards you send when you can’t be bothered to show up, it’s knowing, trusting that the ones around you will help you when you need it, family isn’t blood, blood just… poisons everything…” you had looked down during your talk, unaware that Daryl’s eyes stayed on you as you looked away, his eyes mapping everything, everything from your face, the shape of your nose, your eyes, their beautiful (Y/E/C) colour, how they lit up as you talked about something you loved, and he also noticed how their dulled when you spoke of the people that were after you all those months ago.

“You know, you ain’t gotta hang on that now, you got us, you got me” he looked down immediately after saying that last bit, silently cursing himself for speaking before he thinks, which was something that tended to happen around you, but not once did you ever mind, and he was thankful for that, he realized. There wasn’t a lot in the world that he was thankful for, he had to fight for everything himself, he taught himself how to survive and hunt outside, but he was thankful for you, for the day he found you in the woods, for taking the gun from you before you could do something that broke his heart just thinking about it. “I know” your voice snapped him out of his trance, making him look at you “I know I have you, and Rick and Carol and Hershel and all the others. I… was never lucky with my family… I had my mom and sister and that was it, my dad left when I was just a little girl, before my little sister was even born. But now I have you” you gave him a kind smile, one that made him blush and quickly look away again, which made you smirk. You got up from your chair, walking over to him once he looked at you, you couldn’t help but smile even wider “thank you, Daryl” you gently kissed his cheek, he barely noticed it, despite standing dangerously still, he was scared to move, scared that if he did you would turn away, you would never speak to him again.

“You mean a lot to me, you know, and… I-I… I really care about you, Daryl and I know that you won’t ever feel the same way but I-I had to say it...” you hadn’t moved away since your lips left his cheek, but you were beginning to get nervous, what if you made him uncomfortable? What if you had been wrong in kissing his cheek? What if you should never have told him? Damn it you were thinking about how bad it would be to do that exact thing just half an hour ago, and now you told him all of this. What if he was disgusted by you? What if he thought you were joking? What if- your thoughts were cut short by Daryl’s lips on yours, and now it was your turn to be stiff like a board, but you eased into it, your hands finding their way around his neck as he slowly moved his own hands to your hips. As you parted you sighed, your eyes still closed to try and savour the last bit of it as much as possible “I-I’m sorry about just blurting everything out like tha-” you were cut short as he kissed you again, this time less stiffly and more passionately, making you relax even more, your foreheads resting against each others’ as you parted “what was that for?” you chuckled lightly as he shrugged “you wouldn’t shut up” you full out laughed at his response, leaning your head on his shoulder, feeling him press a careful kiss to your shoulder, his lips resting there for a second, smiling.

You lifted your head and looked back up at him “you’re so stupid” you whispered as you laughed again, making him smile and chuckle a bit “guess we’re a perfect match then” you fake gasped at him “Daryl Dixon! Are you calling me stupid?” he grinned at you “never” he leaned down and kissed you again, and you happily kissed him back, unaware of a very proud Carol who stood and saw you two kiss, you’d have to thank her later for setting this up.

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon x Reader

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marvelwritings · 3 years

Text

Can't tell me there's no point in trying

Summary: Peter travels back in time, get's a concussion and Tony takes care of him, even though in his mind, Peter has been blipped for three years.

In hindsight, the exact memory of when they started researching how to travel back to the past is lost on him. It’s just that he had been so devastated, after Tony’s death, that his emotions had reached through to the only person that somewhat knew what he was going through. Peter didn’t want to compare Wanda’s situation with his, after all, Wanda was the one that was forced to choose between the love of her life and saving the universe, but the weight of their grief was the same none the less.

Wanda had approached him while he was out on patrol, and though there was not set plan, Peter was willing to try anything to get Tony back. They started of their plan by seeking help from Doctor Strange, and when that hadn’t worked, Peter had snuck in and stole -borrowed as he preferred to call it- a few books that might have been helpful for their goal. Between going to school, patrolling, putting up a front for his friends and aunt -and as of late Happy-, and searching endlessly for a scrape of hope, Peter had worked himself to the bone. It would all be worth it though, if their plan came to fruition.

It hadn’t worked the first time, nor the second time, and neither did the third. Failed enough times that Peter’s heart sunk into his stomach, and that he carefully tried to convince Wanda to try something else. The spell was eerily straightforward with very little need for ingredients, nothing more then saying two sentences and having a personal item of the person they strived to reach, and if they hadn’t managed to work it out in three attempts, Peter assumed, though the idea rendered him dejected, it would never work.

Until he went out on patrol again that night. One moment he was excitedly talking to Karen, animatedly retelling the story of how he managed to stop a bank robbery, as it the AI hadn’t witnessed it, and the next he tried to shoot out a spiderweb to building so he could swing over, only for the web to hit nothing but air.

‘Ow, wow’, Peter floundered, trying his best to reach something and prevent himself from slamming on the ground -again-, but he failed. He banged into a tree at full speed, colliding head first and tumbling down while hitting every branch possible. That was the first sign that should have tipped Peter off. There were no trees in the middle of Queens. Under normal circumstances, he would have considered that, but the heavy impact is not working well in his favor.

Landing on the ground on his stomach with a hard thud, his body, and specifically his ribs, screamed in agony, and he rips the mask off without considering his predicament. Anyone could walk by and see the face beneath the mask. Still, Peter can’t breath with the way his ribs object, but at least without the mask it’s fresh air he inhales.

He turns around and struggles to get on his back. His hand instinctively slide over his stomach, protecting the hurting area. Come to think of it, every area on his body hurts. Peter knows the logistics of cracked ribs, and savvies that even with the aid of super healing, it’s not going to repair in a few minutes times.

He inhales as a small as he possibly can, despite knowing he shouldn’t, and braces himself for running back to May’s and his appartement. He can’t stay here, where anyone could walk up to him and attack him while he’s down. He laughs incredible, at least aunt May, and Tony of he was still here, would be proud of him for calling it a day.

When he blinks his eyes open though, he’s met with nothing but grass and green for miles, and a blurry vision that tells him he has a concussion. While trying to sit up, his visions spins like he’s a part of a rollercoaster, and his stomach turns uncomfortably.

‘Oh no,’ Peter moans, ‘aunt May is gonna kill me.’ It’s the only thing he can say before he has to swallow back bile and decides it’s best to be quiet from now on. He struggles to his feet, stumbling a few times before successfully finding his footing in the grass.

His vision does not clear, but he forces himself to take a few steps in any direction anyway. Wondering if seeing all these trees are because of his concussion, Peter freezes when he hears tiny footsteps approaching the opening his still currently residing in. It’s accompanied by children’s crying, the hairs on his arm standing up at the sound. Perhaps it’s a trap, but Peter has never done well ignoring a child ever since meeting his baby sister.

‘Hello?’ he calls out tentatively, squeezing his eyes shut firmly to clear it, but it doesn’t help.

‘Hi’, an adorable voice answers back to him, a head peeks out from behind a bunch, as if the child is equally as curious about Peter as Peter is about her. He can only notice she does this because blurring colors that inch closer little by little. The girl sniffles, ‘I hurt my foot.’

Peter is out of his depth here. He’s only ever impressed children by swinging them around in the sky, but his body will not allow that right now. Instead he tries to focus on what he would do if Morgan was the one that was hurt. Adopting a tone only Morgan has ever heard from him, Peter crouches down on his knees. His ribs creak in dismay, but he ignores it firmly. Someone needs him right now.

‘Oh that’s not good. Does it hurt a lot?’ Peter himself cannot assess the damage.

‘No I guess not’, the girls splutters, pulling up her foot to show Peter.

‘Okay, that’s great. Do you live for away from here? I bet that if I take you back home, your parents will give you a lollipop because you were so brave.’

‘Oh’, the child cries out in wonder, pain in her foot forgotten completely at the mentions of dessert. Peter can’t help but smirk a little, bribery works on Morgan every time too. ‘I’ll show you, but you have to carry me okay?’

Peter can’t think of a worse activity for his injured body to sustain right now, but he’s not about to let a kid down.

‘It’s a deal, lead the way and hop on up.’ His tone is cheerful, even though he has to bite back pained groans by biting his lip.

The girl shows no hesitation and follows his lead immediately, giggling in delight.

‘So, do you want to play a game on the way over?’

They end up playing I spy with my little eye, which Peter loses every time, and not only because he can’t see straight at the moment. The girl, being clearly very young, is a spitfire, which is good because it means Peter doesn’t have to talk during the trip.

It gets increasingly harder to carry her the longer he has to endure the pain, but he knows that salvation is near when the girl, points to a brown blob in the distance. ‘That’s it, there it is. Put me down, I want to get my lollie now.’

Peter obligates, and watches as she runs without any regard for her painful foot, smiling to himself. He hears the door of the house open, and a male cadence calling out and sounding so joyful he must not have noticed Peter yet. He can only imagine the weird sight that must be, to see a stranger bringing home your daughter, but Peter can’t move away yet. His body has stopped listening to his commands.

‘Daddy, daddy, can I have a lollipop, Peter said I could if I was brave, and I was! He said so himself.’

Peter assumes she points to him, and his smiles weakly, although he’s having trouble even finding the strength to do that. Once he walks a little further, he should rest for a bit, close his eyes for the briefest amount of time. Before it get’s to that point though, Peter hears a glass mug being dropped on the ground. The sounds is piercing in contrast between the quiet forest and the intrusion, but that’s not the weirdest thing.

‘Peter?’ That same cadence exclaims, the voice breaking of the syllable. It’s strange, because for the briefest moment Peter’s mind flashing the name Tony at him, but the man is long gone.

Peter just about handles frowning at the direction, a weird knowingness to the exclamation, like the man somehow knows who Peter is.

‘How do you-?’ The sentence is cut short when a wave of nausea slams into Peter again, and he can’t keep himself upright this time. His knees buckle, his eyes roll into the back of his head, and the ground nearly welcomes him with open arm. Before he can collide with it again however, in such speed Peter can’t phantom the man being fast enough, he instead lands between the mans arms. All the strength has left his body, and Peter can do nothing but let his head roll onto the man’s shoulder.

‘Pepper’, he screams, so shut up it comes across as hoars, pulling Peter even closer to him than thought possible. ‘You’re okay kid, you’re okay. I promise you’ll be okay.’

---

Peter comes too slowly, groggily, as if moving through solaces. The logical part of his brain, of which there is much, screams at him to panic. He doesn’t know where he is, he can only vaguely remember the events leading up to his current situation, and he can’t ensure his safety or anyone else’s furthermore, but the smaller part of his brain soothes him.

Tells him everything is fine and he’s safe. It’s rare that Peter feels that way. Even at home with May in their appartement, there’s a constant need to be alert. Peter snaps awake from every little sound, his body turning rigid from the forceful transition between sleeping and waking up, even if the cause was only a door creaking.

It doesn’t make any sense for Peter to be this tranquillized right now, or any other time for that matter. He groans, pained, fluttering his eyes open to find himself in a dark room with the windows drawn. His eyesight is still blurry, his head is still pounding beneath his skin, and because there’s no acute danger to be detected- his spider senses tell him so, though he hasn’t learned to trust them completely yet- he allows his eyelids to droop closed again.

A warm, calloused hand strikes through his hair softly, while a thumb strikes out the frowning lines that pain flashes put on Peter’s forehead. Peter realizes with a startle that his not alone, and that must mean his Peter tingle has failed him, but can’t force himself to push the hand away. It’s nice to experience a loving touch after so many rough handlings, and the memories of lab days with Tony, car rides with Happy, building Lego with Ned and cuddling with MJ render him immobile. He longs so fiercely to feel safe, to be safe, that he leans into the touch like a cat being petted.

‘It’s okay Pete, just go back to sleep.’ A rough voice rumbles from besides Peter. All the rest he previously had, flies out of the window, as his entire body fill up with adrenaline. That voice belongs to a man that’s long gone, a man that sacrificed himself to save Peter and paid the ultimate price for it. That voice can only originate from a ghost.

Peter practically jumps up, opening his eyes and looking in the direction where the voice came from, but he miscalculated how fast his concussion would go away. He stumbles, faceplanting into the body that held Tony’s voice, and was only held up by the grace of the other man. Again, there were bouts of pain, but not only from his physical ailments.

The fire that Peter imagines to be inside of him, the one that destroys everyone else around him but leaves him, unfortunately intact, burns up from the remnants of his heart. He’s tried very hard to move on from Tony’s death in the past few months, and he had almost convinced himself that he was over it. That would be a flat out lie though, and Peter Parker doesn’t lie. The agony of the situation had just been shoved to the back of his mind, while Peter took on so much so he wouldn’t have to touch upon it, to prod in it. It peeked out every once in a while, when Happy would tell May about his life and an anecdote with Tony would be told, or when a poster with Iron man on it drew his attention, but it’s easier to pretend to be okay then to deal with the truth.

‘Hey Peter, I’m glad to see you too, but don’t get too excited now bud.’ Tony laughs, but the tone with which he says it sounds grief stricken, with the barest hint of hope coating the edges. He lowers Peter back down into the bed, and Peter has to bite back a sob at how comfortable the sheet caresses his skin, and how gentle it is on his wounds.

He shakes his head vehemently, trying to clear it and be able to think logically. He wants so badly that Tony is actually here, but there isn’t any way for that to be true, unless.. Peter gasps, memories piercing through the fog in his head. Unless Wanda managed to do what they set out to do. And that would mean that It’s no weird fever dream. Peter’s hand clench up in Tony’s shirt, pulling him down so Peter can meet him in the middle and hug him. He still can’t see the expression on Tony’s face, but he prepares to be rejected, and can’t find it in himself to care. Even if Tony pushes him away after barely a brief second, at least Peter still did something he had set out to do for months now.

That doesn’t happen. Instead, Tony grabs him even tighter, a gentle hand cupping the back of Peter’s head as he curves his body around him.

‘Tony’, Peter whispers, the first tears starting to track a path on his cheeks. ‘Tony.’ Sobs are building up in the back of his throat, unable to be contained for much longer, and as they escape, Tony doesn’t scold him, or tells Peter to stop, but he starts to rock the both of them.

Peter can’t be sure, but he thinks he feels splatters of Tony’s tears on his shoulders as well.

‘Morgan’, Peter says nonsensical after a while, sobs are still heaving his body, but he’s had experience pulling himself together in need before, and right now he needs to know Morgan is safe.

‘Is she okay?’ he asks Tony, with a clumsy tongue. The crying has made his weak and aching body even more exhausted, the rocks reminding him of babies being cradled and normally he wouldn’t want to be seen as a baby, but he doesn’t care right now. He just want to enjoy being around Tony again.

‘Morgan?’ Tony laughs, sniffling quietly like he’s refusing to let Peter knows his been crying too. ‘She fine, she’s probably playing in the barn again even though Pepper tells her she’s not allowed. She’s a bit of a menace, just like you Pete.’

At that, Peter sobs turn into heaves, his entire body shaking with the force of them. All the grief of the past few months, the guilt that Peter has carried knowing it’s all his fault, is all coming to a head now. It’s his fault that Tony’s dead, it’s his fault Morgan has to grow up without a father, and it’s his fault the world doesn’t have Iron man to protect them anymore. He’s tried to so hard to make it right, but how can he? How can he ever be the person Tony was, when he’s just Peter Parker.

‘Kiddo, please calm down, you’re gonna make yourself sick’, Tony soothes despairingly. He lowers peter again but stays close, his hand going back to striking Peter’s hair. ‘You’re okay, I promise you, I won’t let anything else happen to you.’ Tony is getting chocked up again, but this time he doesn’t try to hide it. ‘Not again.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’, Peter whispers, his voice wrecked by the amount of crying he has done. He wants to talk to Tony, explain what happened, spend time with him and beg for his forgiveness, but Tony shushes him, and he’s asleep before he can argue.

----

The next time Peter struggles to consciousness, he senses their presence; Morgan, Pepper and Tony, and he knows without a sliver of doubt that its them. He shakes with the knowledge. The room he’s in, his room as Pepper had told him upon visiting for the first time, is scattered with spiderman toys, and even a few posters on to wall to complete the image. The sight is ridiculous, but Peter laughs at it all the same. He tries to keep the smile on his face, but melancholy isn’t easily beat.

At the very least his concussion seems to have gone away since waking up a first time, and all that’s left to remind him he took a fall is a vague pounding in his head, and the nausea. It’s not as bad as before, and Peter takes the reprieve with greedy hands.

The hustling and bustling of the family, alive and well, downstairs is crustal clear to Peter’s advanced hearing. It’s strange, being back in the lake house without it seeming so bleak. After they defeated Thanos, and Mister Stark died, Peter’s mind helpfully supplies, he had only been here twice. Pepper tried her best to come back, to give Morgan a home away from the home they owned in the city, but too much had reminded of the husband she was forced to burry, so they moved fairly quickly.

So it unusually to see it the way it was supposed to be. Lived in, with Morgan’s giggling and Pepper’s pretend scolding voice, with mister Stark chuckling quietly to himself, a perfect little family. It’s supposed to emit a warm, honey affection bleeding through every crack, and it’s a shame it isn’t anymore.

‘Morguna, go play with your toys for a second, I need to talk to your mom about something very important.’ Spying on Tony leaves a bad taste in Peter’s mouth, but he can’t help it. He’s been so devoid of any scraps connecting him to Mister Stark, that he’s willing to forgo manners.

‘Is it a surprise?’ Morgan asks, mirth in her voice. She’s so much younger than Peter ever remembers her being, because he’d never got to witness her at that age. His heart clenches, the hurt still so fresh.

‘You know what little miss, as a matter of fact it is, so you better scoot, or we might not be able to get in time.’

Morgan squeals in delight, and Peter hears her little footsteps sprinting outside. Peter smiles, he knew Tony would be a good dad someday. The downstairs is quiet for longer than normal, and Peter suddenly turns worried that Pepper and Tony caught him.

Then, Pepper speaks up again. ‘You can’t keep spoiling her you know. She’ll turn into a monester by the time she hits fourteen.’

‘She’s fine,’ Tony placates. Peter visualizes Tony pressing a kiss to the top of Pepper’s head, the only weakness the woman has, which he takes great advantages of. The issue seems to be settled, the playful disagreement put to rest.

Peter ponders over what to do next. He’s so extremely awkward, and despite hoping for an opportunity like this one, he has no idea what to say to Tony.

‘Oh Tony, is it really him?’ Peter freezes, so caught of guard by the heartache in Pepper’s words. She sounds both optimistic and demoralized, as though she has had her hopes up for so long she can’t risk it again.

‘It is Pep. I know it is, I saw it in his eyes.’

‘But how?’ Pepper questions extensively. ‘He was blipped, just like so many people. None of the others have come back.’

‘I don’t have all the answers Pepper, God knows I wish I had. All I know is that my kids back, do I need to question why?’

Hearing, outright hearing mister Stark say Peter is his kid, has Peter tearing up, something sharp sticking at his ribs and feeble heart. It hurts just as much as he longs to overhear it again.

‘He might be able to bring the others back. Tony, I get why you don’t want to hear this, but he could be the key to helping millions.’

‘He has to be nothing but healthy alright? Maybe he can help, maybe he can’t, but all I’m sure of is that I’m never,’ Tony’s voice sinks lower and even more venomous then before,’ putting him in the line of fire again.’

I’m okay, Peter thinks, needing to scream it to Mister Stark’s face that he didn’t do anything. It wasn’t up to anyone, just like it wasn’t up to anyone to save Tony either.

‘I’m sorry’, Tony utters, sounding defeated and, honestly, old. ‘I’m sorry, but I just got him back, and I can’t, I can’t lose him again.’

‘It seems like the first step in ensuring it never does it to go up and talk to him. Go to him Tony, say what you couldn’t say three years ago. And’, Pepper swallows thickly. ‘Tell him we all love him.’

Peter’s grateful he won’t be forced to initiate the first move by walking downstairs.

‘Underroos, I’m coming up so you better not be sleeping anymore.’ The flawless transition between vulnerable and slipping into his role a cool role model is staggering, but it doesn’t surprise Peter in the slightest anymore. He’s spend too much time with Tony for that to be the case.

He doesn’t know what to do with his body, how he’s supposed to respond to seeing Tony in person again? Part of him wants to lung at his mentor, while the other part hisses at him to act like a normal human being. Peter ends up sitting down on the bed, standing in front of the door, hiding behind the closet and finally back to bed in the span of however long it takes Tony to reach the room.

By that point, Peter is too distracted by the glimmer of his past to overthink the encounter. He remembers the lego set as if it just happened. It was the first bout of Peter’s interests that Tony listened to wholeheartedly. After the battle with Thanos, it had slipped Peter’s mind completely. He had no idea Mister Stark had this thing in his home.

‘I asked May if I could take it with me, when I moved out here’, Tony says with melancholy, taking a seat by Peter on the bed, but leaving a considerable distance. He’s not looking at the lego set at all, instead dividing his full attention on Peter. Swiftly his eyes roam Peters face and posture, sucking in all the little details Tony hadn’t been able to discern about him after a while.

‘There’s so many of that stuff in her apartment, but this one was the most fun to put together, because it’s the death star you know? It has all this detail and it took forever to make but that’s all good, cause there’s so much detail and-’

‘Pete’, Tony sounds chocked up, like the façade he was forcing himself to wear is already slipping. Peter hasn’t even said anything yet. ‘God kid, where the hell di you come from? I’ve tried everything but I-‘, he takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. Peter has only witnessed mister Stark crying once, so it’s a shock that it occurs again. ‘I didn’t know how.’

‘Mister Stark-’, Peter stops, cutting his own sentence off. Is he even supposed to say anything? Is he supposed to blab the secrets of the future. His Spidey scenes are distinctively ordering him not too, but Peter itches to all the same. ‘I don’t think I’m supposed to say,’ he settles on, ‘with the butterfly effect and all.’

‘The butterfly effect? Kid what in the world are you talking about?’

‘You know, like in the movie, where he can travel back in the past but it always alters things for the worst?’

‘Yeah, I’ve seen the movie’, Tony asserts, almost deadpans. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘Just- just please trust me Mister Stark’, Peter pleads, hands beginning to tremble with the need to reach out for reassurance. The memories of the one complete hug Tony had ever given him sparking a longing in him. ‘Do you trust me?’

‘Of course’, Mister Stark firmly agrees.

‘Then don’t ask me how,’ even to his own ears the desperation is tangible, ‘please.’

Tony clasps his hand on Peters shoulder, a ground weight to which Peters never endings zing in relief. Before he can stop himself, he’s crumpled in, his head on Tony’s shoulder while his hands twist in the back of mister Stark’s shirt. The reciprocation is immediate.

‘I’ve missed you’, He chokes out, feeling rather annoyed at himself that all he seems to be doing is crying. His time here is limited, he can sense it, the hunch that time is of the essence and he doesn’t posses much of it, and he refuses to waste it on more tears.

‘Me too, Pete, more than you know.’

‘I think I have a pretty good clue’, Peter laughs bitterly, it’s not the same really. He’s only been missing mister Stark for a few months, the man in front of him has been missing him for three and will need to miss him for two more years. The buzzing in the back of his head grows louder. Another stroke of Parker luck, he spend most of the time he had with mister Stark unconscious.

Whatever, he can’t change it now, but he has a few more things to say before he needs to leave.

‘Tony’, he begins, using Mister Starks first name to ensure he understands how important this is. He pulls away, just enough to be able to look Tony directly in the eyes, but what he sees there is nothing short of panic. His hand tighten, softly guiding him back but Peter resists.

‘Please don’t tell me you have to go again.’ It seems that despite Peter intent, Tony savvies more than he’d like. Peter smiles bitter.

‘It’s not your fault.’

‘What?’

‘What happened on Titan, when he blipped all of us, me, that’s not on you mister Stark.’ Peter repeats patiently, watching as Tony’s face hardens.

‘Peter-‘

‘It’s not. You couldn’t have protected me any more then you did. I’m sorry it turns out the way it did, but I need you to know it’s not on you.’

‘I should have done more.’ Tony insist, raising his voice a few octaves. Downstairs, Morgan asks Pepper why her dad is so close to yelling. ‘I should’ve, you were my kid Peter, are my kid, and I failed.’

‘You didn’t fail’, Peter yells back just as loudly, he stands up from the bed, subconsciously trying to appear taller so he has more say in the situation. ‘Because if you already failed then what did I do? I’m still here and you-‘, he cuts himself off once again, almost spilling all the secrets.

Tony approach him like he’s an animal that needs to be handled with care. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about, but I’m a grown man Pete, I can take care of myself.’

‘But I-‘

‘Ah, ah, ah, not talking back, I’m the adult here. Zip it kid. How about this, we’re both not to blame alright?’

Peter isn’t convinced Tony believes that, but it’s still a weight of his shoulders to have said it to Mister Stark, maybe, in the future, when he pins the blame on himself once more, he’ll think about this moment. He nods.

‘I have to go now Mister Stark’, The words tumble out of his mouth before he realizes that it’s the truth. Whatever is going to happen next won’t wait much longer.

Peter walks over to the window and opens it, ready to swing out after saying goodbye. He can’t go and see Pepper and Morgan, it’ll upset them as much as it’ll upset him. He’ll see them back in his time.

‘Wait,’ Tony screams, as I Peter was going to leave without a goodbye. The embrace he pulls Peter in is heavier this time, loaded with the upcoming goodbye’s. It’s still nice though, and Peter enjoys every second of it. Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s temple then holds it there when he asks; ‘How long do I have to wait before I see you again.’

Peter swallows painfully and considers lying to make Tony feel better but, ‘two years’, he eventually confesses, figuring that he can at least give that little piece of information.

Mister Stark simply hums, but Peter notices his tears nonetheless. With one last, solid squeeze, Peter wiggles out of the embrace and tries to stall his own tears. It would hurts less if he could go back to find Mister Stark there, if only he had a way to warm Tony.

He’s pretty sure he can’t go into too much detail but; ‘Mister Stark, when it happens, please hold on. I can’t lose you either.’

‘Okay Pete,’ Tony assures, his hands shaking with the urge to drag his kid back, safe in his arms. ‘After this is all over, we’re going to hold a movie night okay? With pizza.’

‘And Star Wars?’ Peter asks hopefully. Mister Stark laughs, his eyes wet. The smile is all Peter demands before he jumps out the window, not waiting for an answer. He prays that he’s done enough without messing anything up. He hopes.

---

When Peter makes it back to his own time, his phone pings with a message.

It reads; ‘Hey kid, still up for a movie night?’ send by Tony Stark.

#peter parker #tony stark #pepper stark #morgan stark #spiderman #peter parker imagine #tony stark imagine #spiderman imagine #post avengers endgame #happy ending #nobody dies #irondad #spider son #hurt/comfort #hurt peter parker #protective tony stark #marvel imagine #marvel #the avengers

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thegreenmetblue · 3 years

Text

STARKER FESTIVAL SUMMER BINGO : 2nd square

not a date

read on ao3

Peter was utterly anxious. To be honest, he’s not even sure anything in his life stressed him more than that. To be fair, he wasn’t expecting this. At all. Let’s go back to earlier in the day. This morning to be more precise.

Peter was lying in his bed, watching some weird videos on YouTube. But it was Saturday morning. It’s what teenagers do on a early Saturday morning (read : at 10 am). Not that the boy was gonna say it out loud but it was either that, either reading fanfictions about Spiderman and Iron Man. But shhh if you ask him, he’d say it’s only for checking how people are describing him.

Anyway, he was watching some hilarious videos Ned has sent him for the last six days when his phone stopped the video in exchange of Tony Stark’s face. Peter’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, like every time Tony’s calling him. “Yes ?”, he answers with a faint voice. Most of the times, he has no issues talking to Tony face to face but god knows why, Peter has still big issues with calls.

“If this isn’t my favorite young adult. Hi, Pete. Im sorry if woke up you. Or maybe not that sorry, it was time to anyway.”, Tony’s voice says in the speaker. Peter’s cheeks redden at that. He doesn’t know the reason of it, but it’s been almost two months Tony stopped calling him a kid. And now he just said young adult, it gives hope to Peter’s poor heart. Maybe Tony stopped seeing him as a kid. Maybe he sees him more as an equal now ? Lost in his thoughts, the boy doesn’t even realize he didn’t answer to the man on the other side of the phone.

“Alright, imma take that as a no. Gosh, I wondered what happened to the boy that was practically begging to have all my attention.”, Tony laughs softly. Again, he just said Peter wasn’t that boy anymore. The boy makes a little shame sound to the man’s comment about his behavior, feeling his cheeks burning even more.

“N-no, im sorry, im here mr. Stark. You didn’t wake me up. And please take that back, I was never asking for you attention, old man.”, Peter shoots back. He loves doing that. He loves talking back to Tony. “Imma pretend I didn’t hear what you just called me. And Im also gonna pretend like you’re not shamelessly lying to me at the moment. Anyway, you have plans tonight ?”, Tony asks, a bit of growling in his voice. This automatically warms Peter’s heart. He’s probably gonna go to Tony’s lab tonight.

Peter was trying not to smile too much when he remembered Tony wasn’t actually there. “No, I don’t have anything. You want me in the lab ?”, the boy asks and immediately regrets his choice of words. want me in the lab. Fuck. He was gonna say sorry to that, but thanks god Tony speaks before he can make it even more awkward. “No actually I was thinking of something a little more fun. What do you say about eating in a fancy restaurant tonight ?”. Peter’s heart doesn’t skip a beat this time, it skips severals. Tony wants- what ?

“What ?”, he lets out, without even realizing it. “Should I take that as a no again ?”. Tony’s voice echoes in Peter’s brain but never gets analyzed. The boy’s still frozen, his phone hanging in his hand, the sound of his beating heart ringing in his ears.

“Peter ? Fri just told me your heartbeats are unsually high, are you okay ?”. And this time, that wakes him up. “Wh-what ? Oh.. no that’s- im okay, it’s just- MJ!”, Peter stutters as an answer. He swears he can hear Tony’s frowning’s expression in the silence that follows.

“I mean, she- MJ, she sent me a funny, a text, it reminded me of something and I huh.. yeah. No, that’s yes.”. Another long silence. that’s a yes. Peter feels like he just answered a proposal. “Yes as in, im free for tonight, mr. Stark.”, Peter finishes, his cheeks burning with shame.

“Great. And Im not gonna question what just happened, alright ? Be ready for 7.”, Tony simply says before hanging up. Just like that. Just like he didn’t just made Peter’s brain completely fry.

“Did Tony just asked me on a date?”, Peter asks himself out loud, alone in his bedroom, his jaw hanging in shook. What the hell ?

That’s how Peter started the most stressful day of his entire life. Exams ? Spiderman ? Thanos ? Forget all of this, he has a freakin’ date with Tony freakin’ Stark, that is the real stressful shit. He spends half of the day walking in his apartment.

Around 3, he starts to panic hard because Tony said fancy. But Peter doesn’t have fancy clothes. He stayed in front of his phone, hesitating to send Tony something about that or no. He doesn’t want Tony to think he only has kid’s clothes. But then, better this than showing up in a fancy restaurant with a pun-sweat right ?

PP : How should I be dressed for tonight ?

Peter finally sends, not asking but hoping Tony’ll understand what he meant. His smile increases when, 6 minutes after, his phone rings.

TS : Happy is gonna drop you a suit at 5.

Peter’s inside catches fire at that. The words sugar daddy are ringing in his ears. Tony is gonna buy him a suit. Just for tonight. For their date. “Oh my god, imma be sick.”, Peter mumbles. His heart has been beating so fast since the call. And he feels like he’s gonna throw up. And he’s also happy. So happy. But- a date ? With Tony Stark ? Peter has been in love with the man for- he can’t even remember. Of course at first it was just a fan crush, then a real crush, then it bloomed into full love. And Peter never thought he could had a chance. But- Peter’s thoughts get cut by the entry door opening.

It’s May. And it’s been 5 hours now that Peter is combusting with impatience all alone in his apartment that he just can’t help himself. As soon as May starts taking to him, he blurts out : “I’ve got a date tonight!”

That’s how the hundreds of questions start. May knows he’s gay. However, May doesn’t know he loves Tony and she definitely doesn’t know the actual date is with Tony. So when she starts asking who he is, Peter realizes it maybe wasn’t the best idea. So after receiving the 5 hugs May felt like she needed to give him for that, the boy sends another text to Tony.

PP : Can we meet at the park next to my building please?

And then, he lets May giving him advices for tonight. “Alright, I get why you won’t tell me. Even if Im a little concerned, I get it. Where is he taking you ?”, she asks, a big smile on her face. “I don’t know actually, he just said it was somewhere fancy.”, Peter answers, trying not to let his smile gets to him too much.

“And how are you gonna get dressed ? You maybe can try some of Ben’s suit ?”. And Peter’s heart warms at that proposition. “It’s alright May, I already have something to wear actually.”

The two next hours aren’t better, they’re worst. May continues giving him advices. For his sakes, Peter swears himself to never use some. Then he takes a shower, the longest he never took. Just in case. He wants all of his skin to smell good for Tony. His cheeks brun at this thought. Are him and Tony gonna.. ? Now his whole body is warming up and Peter can’t help but jerking off at the thought of him and Tony going home tonight and having some fun.

When Happy leaves him a text saying the suit is in the mailbox, the boy sneaks to get it. Once the suit is on him, Peter can’t stop looking at his own reflection in the mirror. It’s a light blue suit and fuck, he does look good in those. His whole skin is shivering because Tony bought it to him. Tony’s money is touching his skin. The boy snorts at his own weird thoughts. But he can’t help it.

A small whine escapes his lips when he realizes there’s still 1h30 before Tony comes to get him. And that’s the absolute worst feeling ever. Peter tries to work, to watch a tv show, to talk with May, to phone MJ or Ned, to build lego, but nothing is able to make the time look less slow. And the more the time passes, the more Peter’s stomach gets stress crushed.

When 7 pm is finally approaching, Peter’s not even sure he can breath anymore. “Peter, hey- Peter, please can you stop ?”, May finally snaps and Peter turns to her, ready to burst at her that she doesn’t know how he feels right now, but she shushes him before he can even start.

“Everything’s gonna go well, angel. But please, you’re gonna faint before you’ll even get there, alright ? You’re handsome my baby, he’s gonna love you.”, May tries to calm him by hugging him. He was about to answer her when the clock beside them shows that 7 pm is in 5 minutes. Peter jumps saying he’s gonna be late and rushes out of the apartment.

He went down the stairs, crossed the street and went to the park in a 1 minute time. His heart is menacing to get out of his chest. And when he finally hears Tony’s voice behind him, his whole body jerks and he turns to the voice.

His heart stops again. Holy fuck, Tony is- he’s god-handsome. Peter’s jaw opens and doesn’t close.

“You’re doing alright Peter ?”, Tony asks, after a few seconds. Peter tries. He tries really hard. But Tony is in front of him, in a grey suit that looks absolutely heavenly hot on him, and they’re going on a date and-

“Peter ?”, this time, he forces himself to answer before Tony decides to leaves him there. “Hum… huh- yeah? Yeah you look good. I- I mean.. Im good! Im doing… good.”. He watches in horror as Tony tries to not laugh at him. “Blue suits you, by the way.”, Tony comments and Peter tries not to blush or smile at that.

Then the older one shows him the car behind them and Peter hurries inside.

“So. Why the park ?”, the man asks after a few seconds. Peter’s brows frown in confusion. “Forget it. Everything alright Pete ? You look… tense. Did something happened while you patrolled ?”. And this time, Peter’s sure he’s blushing. Why can’t he just relax ? Okay it’s a date but it shouldn’t be any different than the rest of the time they spend together.

“Yeah.. Yeah im sorry I was just a bit nervous, you know… I… Im happy you invited me tho! So.. where are we going ?”, the boy tries to show he’s grateful for this. The last thing he wants is Tony thinking he’s not happy about the date.

“It’s an Italian restaurant, my favorite one. You’ll see, everything that’ll get into your mouth tonight will make you fly.”, Tony answers and there’s a silence. Peter’s cheeks burn hot now. Did Tony really said- oh my god. “Im just realizing how it sounds. Maybe not my best choices of words.”, the man laughs. laughs, as if he didn’t created a whole fire in Peter’s body. The boy just prays not to pop up a boner just because of a single sentence.

The rest of the ride is just small talks and when they finally arrive, Peter stays close to Tony, it makes him feel protected. And he likes it. The smile on his face is uncontrollable. He can’t believe he’s on an actual date with Tony Stark. His heart is about to burst from happiness. And the place is stunning, and Tony’s stunning. And Peter sees people watching them and he feels proud. He knows how much people want Tony. But Tony’s there with him.

Once they’re seated, Peter can’t help but stare at Tony who’s in front of him. And the only thing he can think of is that he loves him. But the boy shuts up. Tony didn’t mentioned it being a date yet, and even when he does, Peter can’t just say he loves him already.

When the menu comes, Peter just stare at the Italian names blankly. “I… I don’t understand anything that’s written.” , he murmurs to Tony, a bit ashamed. But the man just fondly snorts in response and translates him the different propositions. But after the explanations, Peter’s still lost as fuck. what the fuck are all of those ?. Tony laughs again, louder this time, noticing Peter’s lost face.

“You know what, I’ll order for you. How does that sound ?”. The boy’s heart stops and he flushes different shades of red at once. Tony is gonna order for him. “That- That sounds good. Im sorry I don’t know what are those.”, Peter finally says. “Hey, none of that Pete. Plus, Im kinda excited for you to try what I’ll pick for you.”, the man says, like it wasn’t making Peter squirm in his chair. Oh my god, he’s gonna die.

To give himself a bit of capacity, he pretends to read the menu once again and pouts noticing the prices aren’t there. Meaning it must be like, super expensive. He knows Tony can pay, and there’s a side of him that likes it. Because it’s easier for him to call Tony Daddy in his head. But there’s also a part of him that hates it because it feels like he can’t complete. May and Peter are kinda broke and Peter would have liked to be able to pay a restaurant to Tony too.

“What’s up with the pout ?”. Shit. “N-Nothing, mr. Stark really. It’s just… you know, I can’t… it’s a fancy restaurant and May and I aren’t…”, he begins but Tony cuts him. “Im stopping you right there, Peter. Im sorry if me picking a fancy restaurant embarrassed you, I should have asked where you wanted to go first. But don’t worry about that, okay ? Im not asking you to pay for anything, I invited you there.”. Peter feels his heart beating hard in his chest. “No, Im really happy to be there, I swear! I just… I just don’t want- I don’t know, forget it.”.

Tony does what Peter asked him, he drops the subject and start talking about Peter’s project in the lab. And that, it allows Peter to relax a bit. Because it suddenly feels like a normal time with Tony. And not a date. Well, a date yes but not an awkward one. And if Peter chokes on his own saliva when Tony orders in fucking italian in front of him, then at least, the man acts like he didn’t see it. And Peter’s happy there’s a table because explaining to Tony why he’s hard right now would have been real awkward.

It becomes a bit more awkward again when the meals arrive. Because Peter gets aroused by how good the food Tony picked for him is. Because Tony looks genuinely satisfied with the fact Peter moans at every bite he takes. And because watching the gorgeous man eating in front of him is also a whole show.

Peter is too occupied staring at Tony to realize he’s missing his mouth with the next bite he takes. The man laughs gently at him and Peter wants to fucking hide under the table because now Tony’ll think he doesn’t know how to eat.

“That’s good huh ? Knew you would like it.”, Tony smiles, after a minute of silence. The smile on Peter’s lips grows automatically. He likes that. He really likes that Tony knew what he’d like. “That’s… the best thing I ever ate mr. Stark!”, Peter answers, beaming with happiness. Even the awkward moments can’t ruin this for him. He’s so happy.

The rest of the evening goes well. So well even. But the more the end approaches, the more Peter can’t help but asks himself if something’s gonna happen or not. Like… Is Tony gonna bring him home ? Is he gonna kiss him ? Even the thought of that is enough to make Peter’s head feel dizzy. He can’t even let himself imagine something more than a kiss would happen. And if he does, he’s gonna combust in front of Tony. And before his mind decides to picture them having sex, Peter shakes his head, his cheeks reddening with both shame and want. He had so many dream about Tony, so many wet dreams about Tony. He has been dreaming about the man since even before they actually meet. And Peter feels like he would cum the second Tony lays a hand on him. That’d be pretty awkward. And then, Peter can’t help but wonder what Tony sees in him. He’s nobody. Tony can have whoever he wants, and still, he chose him. Does Tony know he’s a virgin still ? Would he care ?

“Okay, have you even listened to a word I just told you ?”, Tony asks, a jaded look on his face. Peter realizes the man has been talking to him and blushes in shame. “Im so sorry! I was thinking… I got lost in my thoughts, sorry.”, he apologizes, hoping Tony won’t think he’s boring him.

“Wow, he’s getting invited to the fanciest restaurant ever and still act like it’s not enough. What more do you want Parker ?”, Tony jokes and one part of Peter is happy he didn’t get upset. Another part of him just wanna scream he wants Tony to kiss him once they’re out of the restaurant. But what if Tony wanna take his time ? He doesn’t wanna sound as desperate as he really is.

“I’d really love for a car.”, Peter jokes back, glad he made Tony smile. “Ask and you shall receive.”. And Peter doesn’t know how honest Tony is with this. He hopes the man is joking. But Tony’s intense look in his eyes when Peter said those words is enough to make him realize the man is serious about this. “I was joking, mr. Stark.”, the boy adds, just to be sure he won’t receive a car tomorrow. Tony doesn’t answer anything to that, which is kinda weird, but Peter doesn’t think too much about it.

When the server comes back and asks if they want a dessert, Tony answers for him again. No. This time Tony doesn’t wait for Peter to even asks him, he just orders him something in Italian again.

“I could have asked him for ice cream you know…”, Peter whines, faking a pout. “Oh so he understands Italian now.”. And the smile Tony had on his lips almost all night is making Peter heart feel so light.

“I don’t, but I don’t think I need a italian degree to understand ‘gelato’, old man.”, Peter teases, making himself feels hot all over his body. He sees Tony’s gaze changing a bit too. Is Tony loving this as much as him ? “Brat.”, the man accuses and Peter stops himself to make a punishment joke. They’re not there yet.

The boy is now eating his damn vanilla ice cream and can’t help the blush creeping on his face again. Tony is staring at him. Not watching. Staring. Peter’s senses can feel his intense gaze on him, on his face. And the boy feels like he doesn’t know how to eat anymore. He’s sure he’s putting ice cream everywhere on his lips and wants to die about it.

“Y-You didn’t want to take something ? Huh… dessert or- or coffee ?”, he stutters, to make things less intense, because Peter is seconds away to moan under Tony’s gaze. “Im all good, thanks Pete.”, Tony answers and the boy doesn’t know if he’s dreaming or not but Tony’s voice sounded more… low ? He goes back to eating his ice cream, hoping it’s the last ice cream he’ll ever eat in his life.

When they finally go out, Peter feels drunk. He’s so happy, so nervous and so horny at the same time. He’d say so in love but let’s not brings more awkward to this. They walk in silence to Tony’s car. And just before Tony can open his car, Peter blurts out : “Thank you so much for the dinner mr. Stark! It was really really good and really fun. I liked it… a lot.”, he says, knowing he’s blushing again but doesn’t care at this point. Maybe Tony is waiting for him to make the first move. Because he doesn’t wanna rush him.

“Pleasure was mine, Pete.”, the man answers, a soft smile on his lips. And then, Peter doesn’t even realize what his body his doing, but that should be the good time no ? His heart is pounding so fast and loud in his chest, ears and whole body as he leans and kiss Tony. A smack. Just a smack. Because Peter doesn’t even know how to kiss. It was fast, but enough to make Peter’s heart explodes in his chest.

But then he sees Tony’s face. Tony’s frozen and shocked face. Shit. Did it was too soon ? Did it sucked ? Did Tony expected someone who could actually kiss him ? Peter wants to throw up. ”Mr. Stark ?”, he asks faintly.

“Peter. What… What was that ?”, Tony questions, his tone dangerously flat. “I- I thought… Im so sorry I... You know with the date and all, I thought maybe… maybe it was a good time to kiss you, you know ? Im sorry if Im not a g-”, Peter painfully begins but gets cut by Tony. “Wait- A date ? It wasn’t a date.”, the man says, his voice suddenly high. Peter’s blood turns cold in his whole body.

What ?

“Wh- What ?”, he breathes, voice already trembling. Oh god no. No no no no, this can’t be happening.

“This. That’s- Christ, Peter. It wasn’t a date. I- I didn’t- We’re not- Fuck.”, Tony panics, his voice almost screaming the last bit, stepping back from Peter. Peter who’s still frozen, watching what’s happening in front of him without being able to move.

“Oh god, Im so sorry if I made you think it was a date, kid. Im- It wasn’t my intention.”, Tony tries to apologize, clearly still panicking. The only word echoing in Peter’s brain is kid. Tony hasn’t called him like that for months. And now he’s doing it again.

“Peter, kid. Shit, you can’t cry- I- Peter Im so sorry I shouldn’t-”. And it’s only when Tony says that that Peter realizes tears are rolling down his cheeks. His heart feels heavy in his chest. No. His heart feels completely crushed in his chest. And the humiliation. The boy still stands there, only capable of crying in front of Tony, who’s panicking on his own.

“Kid, you- Im sorry, Im not mad I swear, we can’t- We just can’t. We’re not… that.”. And Peter’s heart feels like breaking again. “D-Don’t call m-me k-kid.”, and it’s the only thing Peter can lets out before fully starting to cry. Small hiccups escaping his lips.

Tony watches in horror, unable to do much. “Peter, im begging you- stop crying, im not mad, you’re- kid I-”, the man starts and if he wasn’t so much in pain, Peter would have been genially shocked to see Tony struggling so much to speak. “Stop ca-calling me a kid!”, the boy almost screams, surprising both himself and Tony. The man steps back again. There’s a silence. A loud one. A painful one.

“Im sorry. It’s my fault if you thought- Jesus, it’s my fault if you mistook this, Peter. Im sorry I let you think this was a… a date. You can’t- it’s not on you, Im not mad.”, Tony speaks again. But it’s only words. Peter’s brain shut himself. He doesn’t understand what Tony is saying to him. He just wants to die.

“But- But I lo-”, he starts, desperately, only to get cut by the man in front of him again. “No. No you don’t. You- Jesus ki- Pete, it’s not-” and there’s a silence again. “It’s not wh-what ? True ? H-How would you know ? And wh-why… what was al-all of this for if-if it was- n’t a.. a da-date ?”, the boy desperately questions, in between cries. Tony’s pained expression intensifies. “Pete, stop crying.”.

“Answer me!”, the younger one screams. He can’t believe Tony. It’s not true. Tony is just being- delusional.

“Christ why are you doing this ? Peter, it was just- just… us.”. Peter never heard Tony’s voice sounding so desperate before today. But he can’t care. He feels like he’s been crushed by a fucking plane right now.

“Us ? Ye-yeah and Im- im saying that us, is me lo-lo-loving you and you- you looking at me with- with that look in your eyes.”. And Peter can sees Tony’s eyes watering. Again, it’d be the first time he sees Tony crying, but he still can’t care. The man just steps back and sighs, passing both of his hands on his face.

“You stopped calling me ki-kid. And- and you order for me- and- and sh-shit! I- I know you like it. I know i-it because I can se-see it, mr. Stark. I- I want- I want you… pl-please.”, Peter cries even harder now, his voice constantly cut by cries. “Please.”, he begs again. And it’s even more painful because Tony doesn’t answers anything. The man just stand in front if him, completely frozen, with a pained expression on his face. But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t deny it. Why doesn’t he deny it ?

And suddenly, Tony’s warms hands are on his cheeks, trying to wipes the endless tears coming out of Peter’s eyes. But the sensation of the hand on his cheeks only makes Peter cry more. “Peter… Peter, baby.. please. You- fuck. You have to stop, alright ?”, Tony whispers, so close to him, but yet so far. baby.

Peter doesn’t realize he leans on the touch, he doesn’t realize Tony’s other hand is clenching hard on his light blue jacket. And despite everything that is happening right now, Peter only wants them to kiss. A real kiss.

But the next thing he feels is Tony’s strong body against him. The man is hugging him and Peter can’t help but hug him back, his cries still loudly getting out. “Peter, please. I can’t. You know I can’t. Im so sorry. I shouldn’t have invited you, I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have let myself- I can’t.”, Tony murmurs those things in Peter’s ear, tightening his arm around the boy’s body and it only hurts Peter more. Why is Tony saying all of this ? What does it mean ?

“Please…”. It’s all what Peter is capable to say. Please love me. He feels Tony’s body, Tony’s warmth getting away and hates it. And the boy can’t take it. It hurts so much. So before Tony can even answer with another apologize, Peter’s wrists move on their own, and the next second he’s not there anymore, he’s on the top of the building next to the restaurant. He has to get away from Tony. He can’t stay there.

And if Peter hasn’t jumped on another building right away, he would have been able to hear Tony whispering on his own. “Pete… I wished you’d understand why this can’t be a date, why I can’t let you love me back.”, finally letting himself cry now that Peter ran away.

second square for @starkerfestivals 🙈🙈

alright so first of all im so sorry for this fjndldl 😭😭😭 this bingo is challenging me so much tho bc i wrote my first tony fucking peter and now i wrote my first sad ending

its just the first thing that came to my mind seeing ‘not a date’ so i followed my idea

also i edited it three fucking times bc tumblr was being a bitch with me today 🔪

#starker #ironspider #leah writes sometimes #starkerfestival summer bingo #starkerfestivals #starkerfestivalsevents #sfsummerbingo21

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wolfstar-supremacy-innit · 3 years

Text

"Tell who?"- Part 2

Remus smiled into his pillow. Why’s he so cute? He felt something rustle under his stomach. Reaching under himself, he pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment. His resolutions list. Remus flipped onto his back and squinted at the letters. Warmth was pooling in his chest. Something is missing here. He patted the bed in search for his quill and ink, then wrote:

5. Fuck this I wanna tell him I love him

The paper slipped to the floor as Remus’ arms gave out and he drifted into an instantaneous, profound sleep.

Alternatively:

The Marauders are in their 6th year at Hogwarts, it's New Year's Eve and Remus writes a New Year's resolutions list. Sirius finds it the next day. The story is written from Remus' point of view. It's wolfstar and lighthearted. Kinda inspired by this fanfic.

This is part 2 of the story. I will be posting the other parts separately here and also the full fic on ao3 (I will link everything when it's done, check this post for that in some time). Warnings: underage drinking and smoking, mentions of anxiety disorder.

Part 1 Part 3

Enjoy! :)

“Moony! Get up, mate!” Like it was that easy. He couldn’t even get himself to pry his eyes open. It was James that woke him. “Come on, mate. We gotta show up at breakfast, so nobody gets suspicious.” Remus groaned and turned onto his back. A dreadful headache split his forehead.

“Ugh, fuck me.”

“Not right now, Moony. We gotta dash.” He could practically feel James’ stupid grin.

“Fine, fine. I’m getting up.” He blinked his eyes open, pushing onto his elbows, then slowly sat up. The throb in his temples was menacing. He got up gingerly. No nausea. Good. Picking out clean clothes from his neatly organised wardrobe, he headed for the bathroom. “Pete and I should probably go as soon as possible. Will you be alright to bring him down to the Great Hall,” he heard James question as he shut the door.

The shower did wonders to Remus’ hangover. It diminished his headache and helped clear his vision. It also felt nice to be in clean clothes, even though it was devastating having to take Sirius’ shirt off. But letting himself feel his emotions was no more, so he pushed down that thought. Remus walked back into the dorm, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. Lifting his gaze, he noticed Sirius leaning against his bedpost with one ankle crossed over the other. His lips were pulled in a small smile. Their eyes connected.

“Tell who?”

Remus’ stare fell on the yellow paper in Sirius’ hand and the realisation hit him momentarily. His heart dropped all the way to the floor. Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no... His mouth was utterly dry. Fear and panic washed over him like a thousand giant ocean waves coming down at once. ‘I wanna tell him I love him,’ he had written. Holy fucking fuck, he thought, Sirius knows I like a boy. There was a deafening, high pitched ringing in his ears.

“M-my dad... I never tell him that.” He was grasping at straws.

“Remus, come on,” Sirius huffed out a short laugh as he pushed himself off the board. He was shooting Remus this terribly meaningful look, and Remus begged the ground to crack open and claim him.

“I...“ Then before much further thinking, Remus turned on his heel and darted out the room and down the stairs as Sirius called out his name.

Fucked. He was so fucked. Idiot. Imbecile. How could he have written that and then just left it lying around?! Idiot. He smacked his forehead as he rounded a corner, then scuttled down the hallway. He was headed for his favourite hiding spot- a cosy alcove in the wall behind a tapestry on the fourth floor. Settling on the stone ground, Remus went through his breathing exercises. It wasn’t the first time he’d had an anxiety attack, except it was usually something associated with his lycanthropy. Shit, thank Merlin I didn’t write his name. He exhaled a shaky breath. It could have been worse, at least. He’s never drinking again, he concluded. Well, Sirius knew Remus liked boys. A boy. That was that. He rested his head on the wall behind him and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for a while, just breathing.

“Moony,” a voice called behind the tapestry. It was Sirius. Remus’ heart rate spiked again. “Stop freaking out, mate.”

“I can’t,” Remus replied.

“Can I come in?”

“Okay.”

Sirius pulled back the tapestry and gracefully climbed inside. He was clutching the map. He sat opposite Remus and drew his knees to his chest so they could both fit in the alcove. Remus was looking at the ground.

“Here, I brought you a sandwich. You skipped breakfast. Can’t imagine it helped your hangover.”

Remus took it without looking up. “Thanks.”

After a moment, Sirius started: “This is because it’s a him, right?”

“Well...” Remus cleared his throat. It’s also kinda because it’s you. “Yeah.”

“And what? You think I wouldn’t be okay with that?” Silence. “I don’t care about stuff like that, you idiot.” Sirius’ voice was incredibly soft and comforting. Remus finally looked at him. He shook his head and buried his face in his knees.

“Christ. Of course you don’t. It’s just... It’s a big deal for me. Nobody knows.”

“That’s alright, Moony, I get it. It’s all good with me." He paused. "So, are you... if you don’t mind me asking...” Remus drew his head back up. Sirius was asking if he was gay.

“I have no idea what I am, honestly. This has never happened before. Then again, it hasn’t happened with a girl, either.”

“Well, that’s fine. You have your whole life to figure it out.” Sirius flashed him a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah.” Remus’ lips curved as well.

After a few beats of silence, Sirius continued: “Moony in love... Blimey, this bloke must be something else, eh?” Yup.

“Well, I don’t know about love... I was pretty pissed last night when I wrote that.”

Sirius chuckled, throwing his head back. “Right. So... Does he fancy you back, d’you reckon?”

Remus couldn’t suppress the panicked short laugh that escaped his mouth. “No.” Sirius liking him back? What a joke.

“Well, how do you know? He doesn’t even know you fancy him, it seems.”

“Nope, and I hope it stays that way until the end of time.”

“Merlin, who is this lad anyway?”

“I’m not telling you!” Remus’ cheeks were flaming. There wasn’t a force in the world that could have made him look Sirius in the eye. This was a little too close for comfort.

“Hah, fine. One step at a time.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Their ankles were touching. Remus pushed down his feelings of affection with all the mental strength he could gather.

“Um, could you not tell Wormtail and Prongs, please? I’m just not ready for people to know.”

“Of course, mate. You know you can talk to me about it, though?” His expression was soft and understanding.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Brilliant. Okay then.” Sirius pushed himself up and dusted off his trousers. “Should we get out of here? This is definitely a secret snogging spot.” He offered a hand to Remus and pulled him to stand as well.

“Please don’t taint the aura of my favourite hideout, Padfoot.”

This is why Remus liked Sirius so much. Of course, he was strikingly good-looking and cool as hell, but Remus liked his personality more. Sirius was a troublemaker and joked around with everyone, but when it came to moments like this, he was an incredible and supportive friend. Never short on advice (even if it was questionable a lot of the time). He never hesitated to go above and beyond for the people he loved. These were also the reasons why Remus reckoned he’d had a crush on his best friend for much longer than 4 months. Sirius’ looks just made it crystal clear, but Remus had been falling for him for years. Maybe love wasn’t such a strong word after all...

On the way back to their dormitory, Sirius asked: “Is it that Ravenclaw guy you study with at the library? What’s his face? Oliver?”

An obvious choice, but wrong. “Shut up,” Remus said, looking straight ahead, but the corners of his mouth lifted.

“Okay.” Sirius put his hands up, smiling. “Not Oliver, then.”

Sirius kept prodding him like that every once in a while for the following two weeks. Sometimes he would point at a random bloke in the hall and ask if that was Remus’ mystery crush. It made Remus laugh. Generally, it didn’t bother him at all and even became rather amusing. It grew into a sort of an inside joke between them.

They were sitting side by side at dinner one evening after all the students had returned from the holidays. Sirius was in his curious, mischievous mood.

“Oh! The- the muggle kid we hung out with last Christmas? When we were at James’,” he tried.

“Hah, no,” Remus answered, “I saw him like twice.” Sirius huffed.

“Is it somebody from home, then? Somebody I don’t know?”

Remus could’ve lied. He could’ve lied so easily. Still, he decided against it, given how dreadful he was at keeping life-changing secrets. He shook his head, looking at his plate. Sirius leaned so close to him, their shoulders touched. He all but started bouncing in his seat.

“So it is someone from Hogwarts!” Remus didn’t bring himself to answer. Instead, he shoved a particularly packed fork into his mouth. They were silent for a few moments, then: “Is it Snivellus?”

“Yuck, Sirius!” Remus shoved his shoulder as they both laughed.

“So, why don’t you just tell this bloke of yours, then?”

“Ha. Because he’s straight.”

“Oh, bummer. Sorry, Moony.”

Remus wanted to bang his head on the table. If only Sirius knew he was apologising for himself being straight. “It is how it is.”

Back in their dorm, a parcel was sitting on Sirius’ bed. “Padfoot, something arrived for you earlier. I paid the owl,” James explained.

“Oh, yes! They arrived! Cheers, mate.” Sirius leapt onto his bed and started tearing the paper. “What is it,” James asked, leaning closer to Sirius’ bed and peering at the package. Remus and Peter were doing the same. “My rings,” he exclaimed, sliding a silver loop onto his finger. He placed one on his ring finger, one on his thumb and two on his index finger, then stretched out his arm to examine his hand. They were all different shapes.

“Wicked,” James blurted out.

“Yeah, wicked,” Peter repeated. Remus could just sit and gawk like his mouth was sewn shut. What the fuck, Remus thought. He’s trying to kill me. It was hot. It was hot. Like his hands could get any sexier.

“Don’t worry, Moony, it’s not real silver,” Sirius said with the biggest grin on his face. Remus could just nod, swallowing thickly. Yeah, that was a good excuse for why he was baffled.

Sirius wore his rings everywhere. To class, to every meal, sneaking around the castle at night to arrange their next prank. And Remus loved it. After the initial bewilderment subsided, he adored looking at them. However, it didn’t help reduce his massive fucking crush on Sirius. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. Girls would come up to Sirius at lunch to tell him ‘his rings look amazing’, and Remus would almost start growling. It was a bit of a problem. He needed to repeatedly tell his brain to shut up in these moments.

***

Sirius was running out of ideas for who Remus' infamous crush could be. Remus was a bit concerned he would actually figure it out. However, Sirius just started bringing it up less and less. It seemed like the entire thing was blowing over and Remus was getting away with it.

They were sitting on James’ bed, leaned over the map. There was nobody else in the dorm. Their bodies were close together, Remus’ right shoulder behind Sirius’ left.

“Good old Prongsy,” Sirius said. James’ dot on the map was in the hallway outside the Great Hall. Lilly’s dot was right next to it. “He’s probably making an idiot of himself again. Poor lad’s gonna get himself hexed.” Remus laughed.

“I admire him,” Remus said, “I would have died from embarrassment by now.”

“Oh, have you seen it?!” Sirius suddenly turned to look at him, their noses almost brushed. Remus’ heart skipped a beat.

“Seen what?”

“The abomination James made for Evans for Valentine’s day!”

“For Valentine’s? But it’s January,” Remus said as Sirius opened the drawer of James’ bedside table and reached inside. He pulled out a wooden cube that fit in the palm of his hand.

“It opens on my voice for now. Later he’ll change it to activate when Evans says ‘James’.” In that moment the top of the box popped open and the sides fell to reveal a petit yellow bird figurine. Just as Remus thought: Oh, this is cute, a blearing sound spread through the room. “Evans,” the bird boomed in James’ voice, “go on a date with me this Hogsmeade weekend!” Remus grimaced at the volume of the noise.

“My idea to make it loud,” Sirius said with a proud grin.

“Oh, why did you help him with it?!” Remus started laughing.

“He’s gonna transfigure it into a real bird and make it sit oh her shoulder giving her compliments the whole day. I haven’t decided whether I’m gonna let him go through with it. Reckon it might be worth it to see the look on Evans’ face.”

“This is bad.” Remus couldn’t stop sniggering. “This is so bad.”

“The lad has no shame. Maybe you could make one for your mystery man. I bet it would change his views,” Sirius joked. He was being incredibly charming. Remus couldn’t help it. When you’re not supposed to look at something, it’s all your eyes want to do. He dropped his gaze to Sirius’ flawless lips. It wasn’t discreet at all. Remus realised he was leaning towards him, smiling stupidly. Sirius’ eyes flickered between Remus’ as realisation flashed across his expression. He drew back a little. “Oh,” was all he said. Remus’ smile dropped suddenly as he pulled back as well.

“Me?”

Remus’ heart was thumping in his ears. It kind of felt like his soul was leaving his body. No, actually, he was sure his soul was leaving his body. Suddenly, he scrambled off the bed frantically, saying: “Fuck, sorry,” then crossed the room in three large, quick steps and bolted out the door. “Moony,” he heard the dim and distant shout. Deja vu. Only this time he’d had enough sense to grab the map.

Part 1 Part 3

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curious-wildflower · 3 years

Text

Silent Hill 2- 1993

We play as James Sunderland who has just arrived in Silent Hill after reviving a letter from his wife who had died 3 years prior of a chronic disease

The letter claims that Mary is waiting for James in their "special place", which confuses James, as the whole town of Silent Hill was their "special place". He does note that the letter is written in Mary's handwriting and is aware James of a promise he made to only her promise to return to Silent Hill with her, but he never fulfilled.

After leaving the town's observation deck where he parked overlooking Silent Hill and walking to Silent Hill, James enters a graveyard and meets Angela Orosco, a nervous young woman who came to the town to search for her missing mother.

She warns him that there's something "wrong" with the town and that it could be dangerous, but he ignores her warnings, saying he doesn't care if it's dangerous and that he plans on finding his missing someone too.

When James reaches Silent Hill, he discovers that it is not the same, beautiful town it was a few years ago. In addition to the bizarre, omnipresent fog, the whole town seems to be rotting away and abandoned. Macabre, vaguely humanoid creatures are roaming the streets and attempting to attack James whenever possible. When he discovers that the path to his first destination, the lakeside Rosewater Park, is blocked, James needs to pass through an apartment complex to reach what he believes could be the "special place" Mary mentioned in her letter.

Outside the apartments, James briefly encounters a little girl, who steps on his hand before running away.

Soon after that in the building he finds Pyramid Head, he hides in a closet as Pyramid Head abuses and slaughters two monsters known as Mannequins.

James starts shooting from his hiding spot which makes Pyramid Head leave but is encountered again in the apartment building next door, where it proceeded to attack him, he’s unbeatable and only leaves after a siren starts to sound.

Eddie Dombrowski is vomiting into one of the apartment toilets when James meets him.

Eddie defensively responds to questions regarding a corpse in the refrigerator of the apartment room. James soon finds Angela again laying front of a large mirror, contemplating suicide with a knife in her hand. James persuades her to hand him the knife for her own safety, and she flees in an unusual panic to resume her search for her mother.

After James leaves the apartment building, he finds the girl he previously met humming to herself on a wall. He confronts her in frustration, and she reveals to James that she knows Mary and that "he never loved her anyway" before jumping off the other side of the wall before James can respond.

When James finally reaches Rosewater Park, he meets a woman named Maria, who he first mistakes as Mary due to her nearly identical looks, but showing off more skin and possessing more of an arrogant attitude.

She decides to follow James in his attempt to reach his second suspected spot Mary alluded too as their special place due to it not being safe all alone, while traveling with her she reveals insight into matters that only he or Mary would know and acts in a very seductively towards James.

They arrive at the Lakeview Hotel that he and Mary once stayed at.

James enters Pete's Bowl-O-Rama, where he meets Eddie again. He also spots the little girl who is verbally abusing Eddie but runs away upon seeing James. Eddie then reveals that her name is Laura. Outside, Maria claims to have seen Laura and, out of concern for her, has James try to pursue the girl.

After passing through Heaven's Night, James and Maria see Laura enter Brookhaven Hospital and follow.

While exploring the hospital, Maria becomes sick and insists on resting in a room while James goes on, he finds Laura further on, but loses his temper with her when she claims to have known Mary for the past year as she has been dead for the past three. Laura lures him into a room under the pretense of looking for a letter from Mary and locks him in with the monsters known as Flesh Lip.

After they are defeated, the hospital undergoes a sudden dramatic change to the Otherworld, where James returns to the hospital room to find Maria missing. James later finds Maria in the hospital's basement; however, Maria becomes incensed, claiming that James had abandoned her and that he doesn't seem to care to see that she's alive after presumably dying. After she calms down, they continue to search for Laura. Pyramid Head appears and chases them through the hospital's basement, slaughtering Maria while they attempt to make their escape via an elevator. Alone again James decides to refocus on his original task of finding Mary. He leaves the hospital and finds a key buried beneath a statue in Rosewater Park, which leads him to the Silent Hill Historical Society.

The Historical Society has two levels: Toluca Prison and a labyrinth, in which Pyramid Head resides. In this area, James finds Maria, somehow alive and locked in a prison cell, who talks about memories of Mary.

Maria claims that they were simply separated in the hospital basement and that she had not been killed. James tells her that he will free her, but upon reaching the other side of the cell, he discovers that she has been mysteriously murdered. From a newspaper article, James discovers that Angela killed her father, who sexually and physically abused her under the complicity of her mother. James saves her Angela from a monstrous representation of her father known as Abstract Daddy, after which she becomes hostile.

Angela expresses her distrust in James and men in general, as from her experience they were "only after one thing". She also calls James a liar who "didn't want Mary around anymore" before leaving.

Near the end of the labyrinth in a walk-in meat locker James finds Eddie, who has snapped after a life of bullying and verbal abuse by his peers due to his physical appearance and weight. Eddie reveals he killed the dog of a bullying football player and then shot the dog's owner in the leg. It’s clear he’s snapped and says he’ll kill the next one to laugh at him. James, the idiot, asks Eddie if he's "gone nuts", prompting a fight, leading to James killing Eddie in self-defense.

James now having a breakdown from having taken someone’s life starts to question his perception of the events leading him here to Silent Hill, the letter that he supposedly received from Mary goes blank, indicating that it never actually existed. James exits the labyrinth and rows a boat through dense fog to the Lakeview Hotel in hopes of finding Mary.

In the hotel's restaurant, James finds Laura, and she gives him the letter she claimed to be seeking earlier, which reveals that Mary and Laura know each other from the hospital and how Mary wanted to adopt her but due to her illness couldn’t also confirming Laura's claims of knowing Mary for the past year.

In Room 312, James watches a video tape he apparently left at the hotel three years ago, which shows that he killed his terminally ill wife by smothering her with a pillow. For a few moments, James silently sits in face of the truth and his guilt. Laura, ready to leave the town, finds James, and he chooses to reveal the truth to her. Laura is furious at him for killing Mary and screams she hates him, then she runs away. The radio James has comes to life with a message from Mary, asking him to find her.

James explores the rest of the hotel, discovering that it is decrepit and rotting and is now nothing more than the remains of a building that has experienced a fire. James then finds Angela on a burning staircase, vacantly standing between two Abstract Daddies (symbolic of her dead father and brother.)

Angela asks him to return her knife so that she can end her life, James refuses. As Angela ascends the burning staircase, James states that the room is "hot as hell", to which she replies, "For me, it's always like this", meaning that her life was always a living hell. Angela disappears upstairs beyond the flames, presumably to kill herself.

In the hotel lobby, James finds Maria resurrected again, bound and screaming for James's help, but she is immediately killed by two Pyramid Heads.

The whole point of Pyramid Head is that he’s there to remove the visions from James’ mind to make him face the truth of what happened to Mary, they have been created to punish him for his sins. James fights them and when they are sufficiently weakened, they impale themselves with their own spears, as to indicate that their purpose had been fulfilled.

James is led to a hallway, where he listens to a previous interaction that Mary and he had while she was still alive. In the situation, James had brought Mary flowers, but she refused them, yelling that she's too disgusting to deserve flowers. By the end of the conversation, Mary desperately pleads for James to be with her. The memory ends, and James then enters a large metallic complex with a long staircase. At the top of this staircase, on the roof, he finds ‘Mary’ who transforms into a monster after becoming angered by James.

Upon defeating her the game ends.

#it's a long one boys #silent hill #silent hill timeline #silent hill 2

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littlemissagrafina · 3 years

Text

Like a boat out on the ocean (I'm rocking you to sleep)

Read on AO3

"Okay, wait, wait, wait. So lemme just me get this straight," May's voice echoed through the lab, her astonishment clearly seen thanks to the video call she and Tony were currently on. "Peter was hit by two different spells and the effects of the two combined together managed to turn him into a kid again?"

Tony sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his face, using the other to support a now very young and very much asleep Peter on his lap.

"That's about it, yeah. There was a wannabe Voldemort that decided to make an appearance after he decided he was the all powerful lord of the mystic arts or some shit like that."

"The others didn't want to take any chances so we called in Strange for some help since the sorcerer side of the villains are a bit out of our usual Tuesday routine. Between all of us we managed to get the situation handled pretty fast but there was a little scrabble towards the end and a stray spell got fired towards Peter."

Tony saw the small flare of panic in May's eyes and he rushed to carry on explaining before she interrupted and started stressing herself out. "Strange shot his own spell to try and stop it but it was too slow to fully block it and they merged together just before hitting Peter. With the distraction of those spells, the others were able to apprehend Lord Wannabe while Strange and I took care of Peter."

"That still doesn't explain how we ended up with a spider baby instead of a spider teen, Tony. I'm pretty sure the sorcerer wasn't just throwing around spells to turn people into children." May raised an eyebrow at him in a way that reminded Tony way too much of his mother. Damn, why are Italian women so terrifying?

"No, he wasn't." Tony paused. This was the part that he was slightly hesitant to tell May. Yes, it was fine now but the danger of the situation had still been very real and prominent in the moment.

"The spell that was going to hit Peter was apparently one that would reverse the natural state of whatever it hit until they, essentially, became the dust they once started from. When it mixed with Strange's spell trying to block it by freezing it in time, the effect was that it de-aged Peter back to around three or four years old."

May nodded, taking it all surprisingly well. Way better than Tony himself had taken it although he wasn't going to admit that anytime soon. He was the definition of cool and collected after all. And no, no one was allowed to give the many many instances proving him to be the opposite of calm and collected where Peter was concerned.

May speaking brought Tony back from his thoughts. "And that was the only effect? No injuries or anything else to be worried about?"

"No," Tony shook his head. "Nothing else of major concern besides the obvious. "He nodded down to the still asleep child in his arms. "And he still has all his memories and powers as far as we can tell, it's just the body and mindset that got a bit of a reset."

May couldn't help but feel relieved to hear that. She couldn't imagine having to tell Peter about his parents or Ben all over again or even begin to know how to explain everything about the spider bite and Tony. "That's good. Do you know how much longer he's going to be like this for?"

"According to Strange the spells should wear off in a few weeks and he will most likely just revert back to his actual age and size."

"Right, considering his track record I'm definitely grateful that it wasn't anything worse. I'll try and get up to you guys by morning if that's alright? I don't want to chance driving in the dark with the roads still full of ice." As much as May wanted to get to her kid to reassure herself that he was really okay, she knew that she still had to be logical and careful and driving on roads riddled with black ice at night wasn't the way to go.

"You'll be okay with him until tomorrow?"

Tony nodded, shooting her a reassuring smile. "Yeah, we'll be fine, May. Clint is letting us use some of Cooper's old clothes until we can buy some for Pete tomorrow so we're all good here for now. Besides, Morgan is having the time of her life now that he's younger."

May gave a chuckle at that. "Oh I'm sure she is. She adores that boy so much. It must be a dream come true for her to have a "little" brother now. Anyway, the boss is calling so I have to go. I'll be up there tomorrow! Take care of our kid, Tony."

"Yes ma'am!"

---

Tony was woken up that night by little footsteps and sniffles. Sleep was quickly brushed away as he sat up, Friday automatically turning the lights up until it was just bright enough to see without disturbing Pepper sleeping next to him.

He was momentarily surprised to see a little Peter instead of Morgan thanks to the small footsteps, before he remembered the events of the now previous day seeing as it was just after 3am thanks to a quick glance at the clock on his bedside table.

Tony made his way quickly and quietly out of bed, used to the same routine when Morgan had nightmares and he woke up before Pepper did. He bent down, back only protesting slightly thanks to the small amount of extremis that found its home in his blood after his use of the gauntlet.

"Hey there, Roo." Tony whispered to the little child, slowly kneeling in front of him and giving him a small smile as he wiped away a few stray tears from rosy cheeks. "Whats'a matter, huh? You have a nightmare?"

Peter nodded, his chin wobbling and tears welling up in his doe eyes once again. He made little grabby hands towards Tony and the man instantly scooped him up, holding him gently to his chest with one arm and cradling the back of his head with the other.

Slipping out of the room, Tony padded quietly down the hall. Just before he reached the stairs he heard a creak from behind them and turned around to see Morgan's head peeking out from her door.

"What are you doing up, Mongoose? Little Stark's are supposed to be asleep, sweetheart."

"Heard Petey get up, Daddy. Is he okay?" Morgan matched her father's still hushed voice.

Tony felt like his heart was melting right then and there. He would never get over how much it meant that his two kids, despite having no blood relationship between them, loved each other so much. "Yeah, baby, he's okay. Just had a bad dream but we're gonna go and help Petey get some sleep again."

His daughter stared up at them, intelligent eyes scanning them for a moment before she disappeared back into her room only to come back a few moments later with her favourite Hulk blanket.

She marched up to the two of them and pulled Tony's shirt, asking him to lean down and he did so, careful not to drop Peter.

"Hi, Petey," she whispered, feeling instantly happy when her brother gave her a small wave. "You can borrow my Brucie blanket. It makes the bad dreams go away."

"Thank you, Morgie." Peter whispered back as Tony took the blanket and wrapped it around the little boy.

Heart feeling like it could literally swell out of his chest because of his sweet children, Tony stood up again. "Thank you, Morgan. Are you okay to go to bed or do you wanna come with Petey and I?"

Morgan shook her head. "I'm okay, Daddy. Take care of Petey? You can dance him like you do with me cuz it makes me sleep really nice?"

"Sure will, Morgs. Go get some sleep, Little Miss."

With a smile, the girl went back to her room and peeked her head out once more. "Night night, Daddy. Night night, Petey."

"Goodnight, Morgan."

Her head ducked away and Tony waited to hear her get under her covers before he continued down to the living room and perched on the edge of the coffee table for a moment.

"Pete? You still awake, Bud?" Peter nodded and Tony shifted him back away from his chest so he could look at his kid's face. "We're gonna choose some music to play quietly okay? You wanna choose or me, Bambino?"

Peter lay back against his chest. "You." It was said quietly but decidedly as well.

"Okay." Tony got up, making sure the Hulk blanket was still wrapped around Peter, and moved to and open spot in front of one of the windows looking out across the lake.

"Fri, can you play Morgan's Tiptoe playlist for me, please?"

Soft music soon filled the air. Song after song playing as Tony held Peter close, shifting and swaying in a dance that you only knew when you held a child in your arms. He swayed and shifted, moving around in patternless circles and lines that had Peter relaxing further and further until he was fast asleep against Tony's shoulder.

Peter slept, but Tony carried on dancing. He felt at peace with the music softly echoing around him as his son in all but blood slumbered restfully in his arms.

---

Having a family hadn't always been in the cards for Tony. The fear of being the father to a young child the way that Howard had been to him… well, it was enough to make him nervous at the thought of having his own family even as much as he desired it.

Tony never wanted to make a child feel unwanted the way that he had been made to feel. He never wanted them to feel that they weren't loved, important, or valued.

If there was ever a time that Tony could have kids of his own, the last thing he would do was make them feel as he had felt growing up.

Any child of his would be loved and cherished with all that Tony had. It was a promise to himself that he would never break.

Standing with Pepper as they watched Morgan and Peter race across the yard towards them, both trying to be the first to hug them, Tony couldn't help but feel as if he had fulfilled the promise to himself.

#irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #de aged #de aging #de aged peter parker #kid peter parker #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #irondad fanfiction #agrafina writes

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sunkissedspider · 4 years

Text

Caught | Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

***taglist is open!!! just send an ask or message me and i’ll add you :)***

***requests are open!!! just send an ask or message me your request if you have one :)***

pairing: Peter Parker x (kinda)stark!reader

summary: after months of desperately trying to keep their relationship secret, you and Peter finally get caught

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), making out, language, fluff, etc.

listen to: Carolina - Harry Styles (it doesn't really fit the whole thing, but i love that song, sooo)

word count: 2.5k+

a/n: this one actually has a plot????? thank you @andi0617 for requesting this (i changed it a little bit, i hope you don't mind <3) :) this is kinda choppy and has a lot of time jumps, by the way. sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!!

"Do you think they're dating?" Tony asked the team, looking at you and Peter watching a movie on the couch, your hands intertwined on top of the blanket you both shared.

"Oh, stop it, Tony. They're just friends." Nat said, dismissing the question. Nat and Pepper were the only people that knew about you and Peter, other than Ned, Betty, and MJ. You were really close with Pepper and Nat, and you told then basically everything, and you knew they could both keep secrets really well too.

"Look at them! They're... all lovey-dovey and shit!" He whisper-yelled at everyone in the kitchen, his hand gesturing towards you and Peter, your head now resting on his shoulder.

"They've been best friends since third grade, they're just close. Don't worry about it." She tried to dismiss him again, but we all know that Tony is stubborn, so he didn't drop it.

***

You and Peter sat in the theater room, some random action movie playing in the background as you made out. You and Peter couldn't keep your hands off of each other when you were alone, especially since keeping your relationship a secret kinda sucked.

The only reason that your relationship with Peter was a secret was because Tony was your uncle. Well, technically he wasn't, but your parents had been best friends with him for years, and you even called him Uncle Tony. You just didn't want to freak him out, and you especially didn't want Peter to get in trouble with him.

"Come on," Peter said, his lips pulling away from yours, your legs wrapped around his waist. "Why can't we just tell them?"

"Pete, we've talked about this. If we tell Uncle Tony and he doesn't like it, one, we could get in trouble, and two, he could take away your Spidey-Boy privileges." You giggled, kissing the tip of his nose as he scrunched it up.

"It's Spider-Man, but whatever." He said under his breath, playfully rolling his eyes.

"I think I like Spidey-Boy more," You laughed, looking up at Peter's face, his eyes not meeting yours. "What's wrong, love?" You ask, your hand smoothing over his cheek.

"Can we please just tell them?" His lips form into a small pout as he looks at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes ever. They always get you, and he knows that for a fact.

You let out a groan, covering your face with your hands. "Soon, I promise."

Peter's lips immediately perk up into a big smile, his eyes sparkling. He leans down to kiss you passionately before you can grill him about guilt tripping you, but when his lips connect with yours, you forget about everything but him.

***

"Pep, Natasha! There you two are!" Tony said, walking into the kitchen. They both were sat at the table, Nat holding the newspaper in her hands, Pepper reading over her shoulder, as they drank their morning coffees.

"Yes, Tony? What's up? I know that look." Pepper asked, eyeing Tony cautiously.

"Well, you know how I've been trying to figure out if Y/N and Peter are together?" He started, almost immediately getting interrupted.

"Will you just give it up, Tony? They're just friends." Natasha said, looking at Pepper quickly.

"Listen, okay? I was planning on giving it up," Nat and Pepper both let out sighs of relief. "Until I started thing about it more." And they were stressed out again. "They've been best friends since the third grade, we all know that. But have you ever seen the way that Peter looks at her? It's like he can't help but stare. I mean, yes, yes beautiful, but he never stops looking at her. Or talking about her. Or touching her. Blegh."

"Is there a point to this, Tony?" Pepper asked, racking her brain for excuses.

"Harsh, Pep. And, yes. There actually is. I've asked Bucky to help me go on a little mission to figure out what they're always doing in the theater room. Or in the gardens. Or anywhere!" He said, standing proudly at his idea.

"How's Bucky gonna help you figure this out?" Natasha said, both her and Pepper laughing.

"Well, uh... He's the first person I thought of... I think he can really do it though! Just you see; soon, we're all gonna find out if Y/N and Peter are dating," He said. "Or if I'm just an overly analytical dumbs." He muttered under his breath before Turing on his heels, leaving the kitchen.

"Jesus Christ, he's a handful." Pepper said, both her and Nat laughing.

"I don't know how you put up with him, to be honest." Nat adds, both of them laughing even louder now.

***

You and Peter sat in his bed, and, with you being the only other person on his floor, you two slept in each other's rooms a lot. You guys hadn't been dating for very long, maybe three months, but you had known Peter since you were both nine years old, and had been inseparable ever since.

But here you are, on his bed, your hands in his slightly damp hair, his head on your chest, the both of you calming down from the incredible sex you had just had. It was always great with Peter, and that's why you're glad that the walls are, like, 85% sound proof.

"Jesus Christ," Peter said, his breath fanning against your bare skin. "Fuck, that was good."

Both of you chuckle quietly, your faces flushed a bright red.

"It was," You agree, giggling slightly at Peter, his beautiful brown eyes looking up at you. "It always is with you, Pete."

"I never thought that this would've happened. Like, if we went back and told nine year old Peter that he'd be getting to date his best friend, his little curly headed mind would be blown. And, God, if I had told, like, fourteen year old Peter that he would get to sleep with you... Jesus, he would've had a heart attack." He breathes out, both of you laughing.

You both pause, looking into each other's eyes for a few moments, until you hear a knock on Peter's door.

"Pete?" Tony says through the door. "Peter, can you open the door?"

You and Peter look at each other again, both of your eyes wide with panic.

"Go, go!" Peter whisper yells, handing you his gym shorts and sweatshirt, motioning for you to hide in his closet. You scramble off of his bed, your hair messy and tangled as you slip into the shorts that are way too big on you, Peter helping you to get his hoodie on. You pick up your clothes quickly, hiding them beneath a few things of Peter's in his laundry hamper.

"Peter, come on. Open the door." Tony presses, impatience in his voice.

"Uh, yeah, Mr. Stark. Just a second." Peter says loudly, helping to close the door of his closet before he throws on some sweatpants, panting when he finally makes it to the door, his curly hair sticking up all over his head. "Hey, what's up?" He asked, one hand on his hip, the other on the door frame.

"You okay, Peter? You look all... sweaty." Tony asked, eyeing Peter suspiciously.

"Yes sir, I'm fine. I, uh, I- I was just working out."

"There's a gym downstairs, Pete. But, uh, Pepper just wanted me to tell you that dinner's ready and everyone's gonna be in the dining room soon, so... Also, have you seen Y/N anywhere? She wasn't in her room." He asked, looking at Peter in a totally normal way, but, to Peter, it made him feel like he knew about the two of you.

"No sir, I haven't seen her. But, uh, I'll, uh, I'll shoot her a text and tell her. Bye!" Peter smiled before slamming the door in Tony's face, locking it before running over to his closet.

"Are you okay? Jesus, I thought he was gonna catch us," Peter says, his face serious. Well, until you start laughing, then he just looks confused as hell. "Why are you laughing?"

"Baby, your face is all red. You look like a tomato," You giggle, your hands going up to cup his face, leaving a soft kiss on his lips. "You need to not worry so much. Even if he suspects something, he won't know until we want him to know."

***

Almost everyone on the team sat around the big dining table, and, of course, you and Peter sat next to each other, as always.

Sometime in the middle of dinner, the Radom topic of theories came up. So, naturally, you and Bucky started to bicker about them. You and Bucky were good friends, but you always had small fights about the dumbest shit.

"You're not listening, Buck. What I'm trying to tell you is that one time Loki and I were talking about it and-" You argued back, before getting interrupted.

"Oh, of course it was Loki. That makes so much more sense now! Loki, Loki, Loki... you're always talking about him. I swear, I haven't seen someone have such a big crush in years." Bucky said, causing everyone at the table to laugh loudly.

"Who wouldn't have a crush on him? He's gorgeous!" You said, half joking, half being serious.

You had almost forgot that Peter was there until you felt a small squeezing on your right thigh, causing you to look over and see Peter with his jaw clenched tightly. You gave him a certain look, saying that you were sorry, which he replied to with another squeeze on your thigh and a small smile, before the other of you looked over at Bucky again, seeing him and Steve talk about the very thing that prompted the small fight.

You and Peter thought nothing of your quick, wordless exchange... but Tony saw I all. And, if he wasn't so set on finding the perfect evidence of you two, he would've known right then and there that you and Peter were, in fact, dating. But, if anything, it only furthered his suspicion even more, his desire to find out the truth growing.

***

"Oh, shit," Peter said when your back slammed against the wall of your bedroom, causing you to giggle between kisses. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Pete. Just shut up and keep kissing me." You said, laughing.

You moaned loudly when Peter shoved you onto your bed, biting down onto your neck, his hands reaching for the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of you before littering your chest with dark, purple marks.

"Peter, baby, please." You moan breathlessly.

"'Please' what, baby?" He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck.

"Fuck, I need you inside of me," You groan, your hips bucking up against Peter's.

His movements stop abruptly for a second, until he its back on his knees, ripping his sweatshirt off of himself, sliding your leggings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Your hands move to his waistband, kissing his toned lower stomach as you quickly untied his sweatpants string, sliding his boxers down his legs with his bottoms, causing his cock to slap against his lower stomach.

You both move so he's hovering your you, his body between your legs.

"Ready?" He asks, his hard member in his hand, just inches away from your entrance.

You nod vigorously, your legs wrapping around Peter's hips as he pushes into you, loud groans leaving the both of you.

"Fuck, Peter!" You scream when he starts to move his hips at a quick pace, loud grunts from him paired with loud moans from you.

If you both weren't so caught up in the moment, you would've heard the footsteps in the hallway, the knock on your door, the screech from your hinges. The only thing that got your and Peter's attention was the loud slam of your door, the force of it so strong that it shook the small knick knacks on your wall shelves.

"Tony?" Bucky yelled, his back against your door, one of his hands covering his eyes even though he was out of the room.

"Yeah, Buck?" Tony asked from the kitchen.

"Uh, yeah. They're dating." He said just as you and Peter opened your bedroom door, hair tangled and messy, a light layer of sweat covering both of your bodies.

***

"You guys... were... having... sex? You guys were... having sex? You guys were having sex?!" Tony yelled, loud enough that those of the team that weren't in the kitchen, not that there were many, could definitely hear him. Almost everyone was either in the kitchen or the living room, so when you and Peter chased Bucky around, begging him not to tell anyone. So, when he led you two into the kitchen, he turned around and looked at you both with the biggest smile.

"Uncle Tony, please-" You started, getting interrupted almost immediately.

"Stop talking right now, just let me say some things." He said, throwing his head back and breathing in deeply, before his eyes locked onto Peter's. "You... Peter Parker. You were having sex with my niece. And you weren't even using protection... And its still fucking light outside. You couldn't have waited for everyone to go to bed? Oh, Jesus Christ. You guys had sex-"

"Mr. Stark, it's not just sex... I love her, okay?! I'm sorry for yelling, but, God, Mr. Stark, I love her so much!" Peter bursts, his jaw clenched tightly.

"What?!" Everyone in the kitchen yells, all of them looking at you and Peter with wide eyes.

"W- what did you say, Peter?" You ask, eyes locking with his brown ones, disbelief in your voice.

"I love you, Y/N. And you don't have to say it back. I know we haven't been going out for very long, but I can't help it, you're just so-" You cut him off before he rambles on and on for hours.

"I love you too, Peter." You say, hands reaching up to go around his neck.

He smiles bigger than you've ever seen in your whole life, picking you up by your waisted and placing a long, passionate kiss on your lips and your hands tangle in his hair.

If you two weren't so lost in each other, then you would've heard Pepper, Nat, and even Bucky telling Tony not to look, not wanting to ruin the moment.

After what seems like forever, but was probably only thirty seconds, you and Peter pull away, him placing you on the floor before wrapping you in a big hug.

"Now, both of you listen," Tony starts, Pepper looking at him as a sign to go easy on you two. "I'm not happy about this right now... But, since I like Peter, neither of you are in trouble. Now go." He says, pointing a finger before dismissing you both.

You and Peter practically run upstairs, wanting to forget that this ever happened, before Tony calls after the both of you.

"But, guys... Next time you have sex, please make sure to lock the door."

__________

taglist: @ertherealrose @peter-tiingle @petertiingz

#peter parker smut #smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #mcu

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anarchyduck · 3 years

Text

stare into the void (the void has teeth)

[Read here on AO3]

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

The street light flickers as Peter lands on top of it. He holds his breath as he casts a quick look over his shoulder to listen. He hears nothing but his heart beating loud in his ears. He lets go with a gasp, his exhausted lungs burning from the strain. The back of his neck burns as nerves crawl beneath his skin, up to his scalp to burrow into his brain. His senses scream at him. Every fiber of his being is telling him to not stop, to keep going.

He just needs a minute to catch his breath. Figure out his next move.

Peter winces as he pokes at one of three long slashes running down his arm. It continues bleeding, though much slower now than before. His stomach churns at the sight and he forces himself to look away.

The street below is empty. Void of life. Cars line the sidewalks of the residential neighborhood, and he can see lights on in the various townhomes. A small notification pops up in the corner of his mask’s display to inform him he has an hour before his curfew. Some sinister little voice tells him he isn’t going to make it home before then. He’s already spent half the night swinging around Queens and there’s no way he can go home now. Not with that thing following him.

Something sharp scraps across metal.

Peter freezes.

He listens.

The light buzzes beneath his feet with the hum of electricity. His own breathing sounds harsh and rapid to his ears. Karen says something about his vitals (blood pressure is rising, you’re going to hyperventilate) but he tunes her out.

Every sense is sharp, dialed beyond eleven, as he listens and watches the dark street below. He doesn’t see anything, but he knows something is there. It is there.

Peter launches himself into the air, casting a web to tag the nearby building as he swings himself into an alley. Behind, he hears the loud clatter of a trash can being knocked over. His heart jumps into his throat and, in his moment of panic, he misses his next web and hits the side of a brick wall with an oof.

Something sounding like a hoard of rats skitters behind him.

A growl in the dark and then-

“Aah!” he cries out as it grabs him by the ankle. It yanks him down the rough wall and he bites back a scream as it’s claws dig into his leg, tearing into his suit and skin.

Blindly, Peter kicks at it with his other leg. His foot connects with something solid and, miraculously, it releases him. He sends out a web to a nearby fire escape and pushes himself off the wall and back into the air.

“Peter, you have several deep lacerations in your left calf.” Karen reports in his ears.

“Yeah, I noticed.” he grunts as he swings out of the alley. He crosses the street and then another and another, no real goal in mind except for the need to put as much distance between him and it as he can. He feels the compulsion to look back, to see if it is following him. He resists.

Peter throws himself around a corner into another alley. His fingers press down on the button of his webshooter but nothing comes out.

“Shit!” he pitches his body forward, barely preventing himself from slamming headfirst into the concrete. He rolls a couple times before coming to a stop. “Ow… not good.” Peter groans as he pushes himself up into a sitting position.

His leg looks like it’s been put through a shredder, leaving it a bleeding mess of torn fabric and meat that turns his stomach. He swallows the bile in his throat and tries to get up, only to collapse as agonizing pain shoots up from his leg.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he whimpers. Breath quickens as panic begins to set in.

Come one, you can do this Parker. Get a hold of yourself. Assess the situation.

One: he is alone.

Two: he is out of web fluid.

Three: he can’t walk.

Help. He needs help.

“Okay okay okay… okay…” Peter breathes out harshly. He takes a couple more breaths in effort to slow his racing heart and says, “Karen, call Mr. Stark.”

“Connecting.”

And then he hears it.

Sharp talons clicking against concrete.

Scattered indistinct whispers.

The deep, guttural growl in the dark that makes his blood go cold.

Heavy breathing on the back of his neck.

It’s here.

Peter scrambles to his feet. He barely makes it two steps when his leg gives out from under him, leaving him to crawl. He can see the mouth of the alley. The street, the sight of cars passing. Music is playing nearby, and he can smell the heavy scent of alcohol. A bar is close by, and that means people. He just needs to make it there.

Just a little more. He just needs a little-

It grabs him.

“No!” Peter shouts as he pulls himself forward. The concrete buckles beneath his fingers as he digs them, using every ounce of his strength to pull himself away from it. It continues pulling and pulling, with Peter caught in a terrible game of tug of war.

“Get off!” He flails out with his other foot, hoping to throw it off like he did before. But it doesn’t release him. It only tightens its grip, burrowing its claws into his skin. “Get off! Let go! Let go!”

“Kid!” a new voice in his ears, familiar enough to cut through the panic and pain. “Pete, I’m on my way! Just hold-“

“Tony, help!” Peter shouts frantically. “Help! It won’t let go! It-“

Suddenly one hand becomes many. He feels them everywhere, pulling and biting and clawing at him. The air becomes heavy with the foul stench of blood and rot and decay. Overwhelming dread and terror take hold and the terrible realization he might not be able to shake it off this time.

The darkness cackles and roars behind him. It pulls him with unimaginable strength, ripping his hands from the concrete. Peter keeps trying to crawl away, getting nowhere and only leaving smears of bloody fingerprints.

Tony shouts in his ears and all Peter wants is to hear the familiar sound of Iron Man’s repulsors. To see the red and gold armor fly into vision and destroy the thing that hunts him.

He wants to go home.

He wants May.

He wants the pain to stop.

Please make it stop.

Please please please-

Blood slips through his fingers as he’s dragged. Thin, spider-like claws cover his face and Peter feels his mask slip off. He sees the dark night sky and orange glow of city lights. No clouds. No stars.

No Tony.

No May.

Tears spill over from his eyes, mixing with the blood on his cheeks. Sharp hands grip his hair, twisting and pulling his head back. Peter stares wide eyed into the frightful, gaping maw of the void.

He opens his mouth to scream and nothing comes.

#peter parker #tony stark #irondad #spiderman #spider-man #marvel #mcu #duckie's writing #spooky times

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the-mad-starker · 3 years

Text

VenStarker Fic: Wires Crossed

For the Venom-X-Change-2020 event on AO3. This fic was written for @zsparz 💗

Length: 7292

Summary: Peter was hopelessly in love with a Tony Stark who kept him at arm's length. The reasons why are not what he expected at all.

Notes: canon divergence (venom symbiote bonded with Tony), tentacles, love confessions, idiots in love, first time, rimming, anal sex, size kink, lots and lots of tentacles

AO3 LINK

💗💗💗

There was always something different about Tony Stark. Peter knew it. The rest of the world knew it. It was his genius, his cleverness… a million and one qualities that just set him apart from the rest.

It was a fact that was harmless enough but to Peter, it took a whole other meaning when they met. The shortness of his breath rivaled the sheer excitement he felt upon seeing the older man sitting there, that familiar but foreign smirk on his face.

"Mr. Stark–" One step forward and Peter's spidey senses shot through his body in a flood of dangerdangerdanger. His knees went weak but one sticky hand on the wall kept him from buckling.

"You okay, Mr. Parker?" Mr. Stark accessed him, eyes roaming, while May's eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah, I'm– I'm alright," Peter stuttered as he fought to get his screaming senses to calm down. "Just really… Hungry. I haven't eaten since breakfast. Skipped lunch cause– you know."

It was a weak excuse but they were strangers so he didn't expect Stark to really question it.

Mr. Stark didn't buy it and something flickered in his eyes… Concern? The older man stood and May followed, worried.

He needed to get himself under control. He was still relatively new to his superpowers so– what the fuck.

Suddenly, Peter could breathe again. As suddenly as it had come, his spidey senses went silent as though nothing was wrong. Was it a fluke? He still wasn't used to all the weird things his body was going through. Doubt and uncertainty was a familiar feeling as he filed away the anomaly for another time.

A gentle but firm hand landed on his shoulder and his heart jumped, startling him back to his meeting with his favorite hero.

Their eyes met and the telltale signs of Peter's silly crush became evident. Heart pounding, breath shallow, and warmth infused in his cheeks. Looking into those sharp brown eyes, Peter felt… dazed?

"How about we talk in your room, Mr. Parker?" Mr. Stark suggested.

"I'll get dinner started," May offered, "If you want to join us, Mr. Stark?"

The older man gave a warm smile but shook his head. "I don't want to intrude and I'm sure you guys will have a lot to talk about after I leave."

May looked relieved but Peter knew it was only because she felt pressured to cook a decent dinner if Mr. Stark was staying.

"Mr. Parker," Mr. Stark encouraged him with a squeeze of his fingers, "if you'll lead the way."

"Congratulations on the internship, Pete," May added as he and Mr. Stark walked to his room.

Internship?

Peter didn't say a thing and he didn't need to because as soon as the door closed, Mr. Stark spoke.

"So, Spider-Man, what happened out there?"

Peter looked at him, wide-eyed and ready to deny it. It was futile, of course. Tony got him to confess his identity as Spider-man but as he watched the older man drive off, he didn't think it went too badly.

What Peter hoped to happen and what actually happened are two different things.

Maybe it was his silly crush on the older man, but when Tony Stark personally came to recruit him, he thought they'd actually spend time together. Not that they didn't spend time together but it was so much less than he wanted.

Not to mention that there was this thing that Tony did. It was a thing Peter hated and wanted so desperately to break through but he just didn't know how.

Tony kept him at arm's length. They spent a god-awful amount of time in the lab together and yeah, there were moments where he felt like they really connected but then Tony would reset the next day.

Peter was just his official intern. Kept at a distance. Tony wasn't so formal that he didn't joke or put on any airs but there was this barrier that meant their friendship could only go so far. He was polite in a Tony kind of way but he never took that next step that would deepen whatever it was between them.

At first, Peter was so sure that it was because his crush on the older man was that embarrassingly obvious. Why else would Tony act the way he did? And the thought plagued the younger man because he tried to be professional while being friendly but things just seemed so tangled and impossible.

Maybe, he just needed a chance, he had thought to himself. So he tried and his fumbled attempts at flirting seemed to make the other man smile. But then that thing happened and it was back to square one.

Maybe after some thought… Maybe Tony was uncomfortable with all the attempts Peter made to show his interest? But that was before he had gotten the hint that Tony wasn't interested… Maybe Peter was flirting without meaning to?

They just got along so well that these teasing little banters would start between them and Peter could swear that the older man was interested. But what did he know? He wasn't experienced in that kind of thing and as much as he wanted to rectify that, his heart was set on Tony.

Peter sighed as he entered his bedroom. His bag, filled to the brim with notebooks and books, was tossed carelessly to the side. He was ready to clock out and take a nice little nap until he went on patrol later in the evening.

His eyes were already drooping closed when his phone buzzed with an incoming message. He checked it more out of habit than actual desire.

Come over.

Peter's eyes shot open.

The message was from Mr. Stark and like many of his previous messages, they didn't really give him any more info beyond that. And he knew from prior experience that shooting off a "what's up?" Or "??" wouldn't get him an answer either.

If Peter was busy, he wouldn't go. Tony probably just assumed that was the case during the times his mentee didn't pop up. More often than not, Peter was able to make it though.

This time… He didn't even have to think about it. His fatigue evaporated, mind and body invigorated by the thought of spending some time with Tony.

Maybe it was a little sad that he was so eager for the older man's company but he couldn't help being opportunistic. To feel better about it, Peter took a few minutes to shower and change into something more comfortable.

From Queens to the city, the time passed quickly. It only felt like a couple of minutes had passed by the time he was in the elevator and FRIDAY was directing him to Tony's experimental labs.

When the doors opened, he knew something was wrong. First off, Tony's favorite brand of music wasn't being blasted off the speakers. It was quiet enough that Peter could hear his steps as he walked further into the labs.

But then, there was a mounting sense of urgency growing in the pit of his stomach. It was a peculiar sensation, one that confused him because it felt like his spider senses were trying to warn him but… why would it do that here?

Peter hurried, making sure to keep his steps light just in case there really was a problem.

Then he caught sight of his mentor. Tony was standing in front of his array of holograms, hands planted firmly on the tabletop and leaning forwards. His head hung loosely between his shoulders with the shadows blurring his eyes.

On the main screen, there was some sort of formula being constructed but Peter barely noticed. That was because his entire attention was on the black fluid-like substance that was steadily seeping from Tony's back.

His breath caught and for a split second, he felt like he was in some sort of horror show. Peter could only watch as more and more of that inky darkness flowed over his mentor's trembling body.

He would've rushed to his side but then his ears caught these sounds that Tony was making– Oh, God… Those weren't the kinda sounds someone would make if they were in pain. That sounded like– His ears turned red, heat mixing in with adrenaline as he stared and stared.

It was… hypnotic. It should've been frightening because what the fuck was that but… Detached from that sense of horror, what he was seeing was almost beautiful. The darkness spilled out, gleaming and reflecting light as it arched all around his mentor. It looked like it was forming a protective cocoon that, strangely enough, gave the impression of possessiveness.

The thing that made Peter take action though was that there was too much of it. It seemed like an endless supply of black kept seeping out of Tony's body and it was simply engulfing him.

No matter how beautiful it looked, Peter couldn't help gasping out his name.

"Mr. Stark…!"

Tony's head jerked towards him, surprised. The brown of his eyes were thin discs, pupils dilated.

All at once, that black cloud rushed back inside the older man as though being sucked in by a vortex. It happened so quickly, surprising the both of them that Peter barely had time to react when Tony dropped to his knees.

Peter was by his side in an instant, eyes rushing over his mentor's body to find any injuries, any anomalies. All the while, his brain was trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened.

"Kid…" Tony mumbled. He was crouched, one knee pressed to his chest and his head tipped down. There was sweat on his brow and his shoulder felt hot beneath Peter's palm.

"Are you okay, sir?" Peter asked. His voice sounded high-pitched to his own ears, just short of panic. "Wha–What was that?"

Tony looked up and there was a glassy sheen to his eyes. Combined with the fever, Peter came to a quick conclusion.

"Were you drugged, Mr. Stark?" He asked, trying to see what other damage had been done. "Should I call 9-1-1? Friday?"

"Kid– Peter," Tony tried to get his attention. Some of the fogginess seemed to recede but it still wasn't enough for Peter. "I know what it was."

Their contrasting reactions to the situation were just so bizarre that Peter was finding it hard to rationalize. But Tony had been an Avenger and a hero much longer than Peter so maybe dealing with stuff like this was just so typical.

"What was it?" Peter asked, trying to stay on track.

"I was working on something and the stupid thing– Ugh, simply put, I got what essentially amounts to sex pollen into my system and–"

Peter's brain came to a screeching halt. Aphrodisiacs, he knew about those but the term sex pollen seemed to be more intense.

Still, he had to ask.

"Like an… aphrodisiac or something?" Peter hedged cautiously.

Tony grimaced. "Probably worse but nothing I can't handle."

It was only then that Peter noticed Tony's pants were undone. His crouched over position, it seemed, was deliberate in that it hid the state of his undress and more likely than not, any state of arousal the older man was in.

Heat crawled up his neck, no doubt turning his cheeks bright red. It also didn't help that some of that blood flow was directed further south.

His eyes skittered away despite wanting to affirm if Tony was hard. Peter, himself, hunched over a little, hoping to hide his own responding state.

Peter knew that the best thing to do was to retreat but some part of him didn't want to. This thing could be something they laugh about in the future or something they completely bury in the past and never talk about. Or it could be the thing he needed to get Tony to really see him.

Besides, he still had so many questions… He just shouldn't be getting hard when something was obviously off in this situation.

"And that thing that was all over you… Was that something with the um, aphrodisiac?"

He knew he shouldn't be getting hard and yet… Peter couldn't get the sight out of his mind and his mind puzzled over it, maybe even obsessed over it.

It was like a void had taken on a physical form but it had also looked fluid in some parts. In others, the thing had looked like it was solid. What really stuck in his mind was how sensual the whole thing appeared but maybe it was his perception of Tony that was to blame, not the way some weird liquid solid moved.

Tony's grimace only deepened and Peter felt bad for putting him on the spot when he was in such a precarious situation. But he knew… He knew that Tony would brush it off if he left now. He would reset and push Peter away.

Peter didn't want that so he clung to the situation.

"That… that was something else, Pete," Tony said hesitatingly.

Were they at a stalemate? Tony could've gotten up at any moment but he just stayed there, as did Peter. At this moment, were they both…?

"I'll explain another time, but right now..." Tony cleared his throat, "I got some things to take care of. If you don't mind."

Peter looked away but forced himself to turn back to his mentor.

"Why did you text me if you were busy, sir?" Peter asked. Then he licked his lips, boldly pushing forward, "Does it hurt or something? Is there anything I can… do to help?"

He was sure that his face was a nice cherry red color. But… He put it out there. Never had Peter so plainly offered himself. He held his breath, hoping wildly that Tony would…

"Text? I didn't..." Tony trailed off, frowning to himself.

There was a moment of silence where Tony was just looking at him and then he squinted. Kept looking at Peter then at the cell phone on his table then at his hands. Silent microexpressions that hinted at what was going through his mind but not outright giving it away.

Peter fumbled with his own phone for proof, tapping the screen and showing the message.

Tony's eyes narrowed.

"Traitor," Peter heard him mutter, Peter heard him mutter, out of the blue.

Tony then sighed and moved into a sitting position with a groan. Peter wished that he could say he didn't look but he did.

A quick little glance confirmed that Tony was still hard. Peter swallowed the sudden influx of spit in his mouth, feeling hot and bothered.

"Ah-hem," Tony coughed, hiding a smirk behind his hand. He did arch a brow, "I got some weird alien pollen going on, what's your excuse?"

Peter squeaked in alarm, knowing he was caught off guard. He tried to play it cool anyway and subtly moved the corner of his hoodie over the obvious bulge where he was getting hard.

"I've had a crush on you since... forever?" he admitted, unable to look Tony in the eye.

"You… You did or you… have…?" Tony asked curiously, cautiously.

Peter peeked at him, eyebrows raised. He thought his feelings were extremely obvious.

"Have."

He had the pleasure of Tony's mouth dropping into a little 'O'.

"Well… damn," the older man exhaled, laughing slightly.

They sat there for a moment longer, both a bit amused at the situation. It seemed so silly that Tony didn't know… Even so, Peter frowned at the lack of answers he was getting.

Hesitatingly, he reached over and squeezed the other man's knee.

"I really do wanna help you, Mr. Stark…" he said plainly, holding the older man's gaze, "and that thing… I wanna know what that thing was… You're obviously okay but..."

Peter continued to lock gazes with him, determined to show his mentor how serious he was.

Tony seemed to be internally conflicted, probably monologuing with himself as he tended to do. Peter, with his best puppy eyes, awaited his answer.

The older man muttered something under his breath before he finally seemed to give in.

"Only a few people know this," Tony started then seemed to backtrack when he said, "You know how I escaped the Ten Rings back in Afghanistan?"

He did. It had been all over the news and later on, when Iron man made its debut, the pieces had been put together on how Tony escaped. He'd never heard it from Tony's point of view though.

Peter nodded, leaning forward and so curious. "Yeah, it was the first Iron man prototype you created. It got you out."

Tony nodded, then a bit more solemnly, he confessed, "The thing that wasn't published was that I… kind of blew myself up. The armor was made of pieces of scrap metal, never before tested, all just theory and aspirations. Anything was better than staying there... So I got out. And I blew myself up in the process."

This was all new information for Peter. It was a hard fact to process… He couldn't imagine a world where instead of watching the news of Tony's return, it would've been a funeral. His blood chilled at the very thought of it.

Tony cleared his throat, no doubt sensing Peter's upset. "I ended up in the hospital, actually. In this little town that Rhodey took me to. They would've flown me to one of the bigger ones but I wasn't supposed to make it from the get-go. My chances of survival were… abysmal."

He lifted a hand, palm facing upwards. A dark plum of fluid spilled out, liquidy and swirling around itself. Even in this tiny form, it was fascinating and hypnotic to watch.

Peter's mind stumbled over itself trying to figure out what it was. Some sort of secret tech? He wouldn't put it past Tony to create something but even this was beyond the impressive display of nanotech his mentor created.

"It's a parasite," Tony explained calmly.

Peter inhaled sharply. "Para–"

Then the thing came alive. It swirled larger, seemingly gathering more of itself out of nowhere. It whirled together like an angry hornet's nest. Not only did it become larger but it grew eyes and a large cavernous mouth followed with tiny razor-sharp teeth.

"Parasite!?" It hissed, voice guttural and offended. Peter's mouth dropped open as the thing swirled to face Tony, flashing menacing teeth. "We are not a parasite."

His mentor was entirely unphased and what was even more confusing was the fond, almost chagrined expression on his face.

"Yes, sweet pea, it's just the scientific term," Tony said as he leaned down and kissed the top of what should be the creature's head. "Okay, fine. A symbiote."

The creature didn't seem placated but it did shrink, the mouth disappearing so only large white sinister eyes peered at them.

"We are Venom," the creature rumbled and Tony smiled, affection shining through.

"This little guy is part of an alien race called the Klyntar," Tony told him. "And sweet pea found me after the blowing up. Saved me, actually… And we've been together since."

The creature didn't confirm or deny but somehow Peter could tell that it was pleased. He wasn't even sure how he made that deduction but the… body? seemed to have settled into a lazy spiral as it swirled around itself.

"This human… intends to mate," the symbiote purred, staring at him with that strange alien gaze. Peter's eyes grew wide.

"It's a fear boner!" he blurted out.

The symbiote swirled towards Tony, almost vibrating with curiosity.

"Yeah, go ahead and search for it," Tony told the creature with a chuckle.

"Ah," the symbiote murmured knowingly after a moment.

Tony lowered his hand but instead of the symbiote retreating into his body, it traveled up his arm and settled comfortably on his shoulder. Like this, it reminded Peter of a cat for some reason.

"The reason why I told you isn't because I need your help," Tony admitted while absently petting the inky void on his shoulder. "Well, not with sweet pea and not with the, ah, sex pollen."

"Tony will need help," the symbiote disagreed, displeased.

"I will not–" Tony refuted, attention switching to the creature.

The pieces clicked into place. What Peter witnessed when he first came in… the way Tony was trembling while that massive inky cloud of blackness surrounded him.

"Was Venom helping you?" Peter dared to ask.

Tony fell silent, debating whether or not to answer. That was answer enough to Peter. He sat there, mindblown, as he digested the implications. Tony and this… creature?

"The symbiote and I have been in a state of symbiosis for… years now," Tony said softly, almost lovingly. "Sweet pea and I… We're like one entity. They can't be separated from me and I can't let them go."

The creature hummed in delight.

"We are one…" it agreed softly.

To Peter, it felt like the world was about to shatter in front of him. He didn't think he'd ever have a chance but of course, finding out would always make it hurt even more. But to find out that some alien creature– Wait.

"Then the… Text? Why did you send it when you're in this state?" Peter demanded. There was a thread of hope there but his face remained neutral.

Now it was Tony's turn to become flustered.

"We have dreams," the symbiote answered instead of Tony. "Dreams of… You. Of the spiderling."

"...Traitor," Tony muttered again. "Sometimes, my other half likes to do things when I'm not looking."

The last part was said with a pointed glare at the creature but Peter could tell there wasn't any heat in it.

"So the… alien para–" the symbiote perked up, ready to hiss when Peter remembered and amended his words, "the symbiote sent the text because you… you want me, sir? Is that right…?"

Tony was definitely flustered but he nodded firmly then clasped Peter's wrist. "But I can't have you. Not when we're like this. We're– We won't separate, Pete. It's why I've never allowed myself to… Not with anyone since Afghanistan."

Peter took a deep breath. He kept looking at Tony's hand on his wrist and thought about it. It took a tremendous amount of trust for Tony to tell him. Even if the symbiote was the one to push for this encounter… Peter didn't think that Tony was entirely unaware of what his other half wanted to do.

As he organized his thoughts, a swirl of black seemed to creep towards Tony's fingers. It… fascinated him. This was an alien creature? He found that once he accepted the revelation, it wasn't that hard to picture it. Well, then again, people like Thor and Mr. Loki existed so why not beings like the symbiote?

The symbiote's little tentacle passed Tony's knuckles and skittered to a fingertip. There, it hesitated before a thinner piece swept past and touched Peter's knuckle. It was so feather-light that Peter wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't watching. It was more like a caress, a soft touch that was just exploring.

Tony and this symbiote were one entity, they both confirmed. And they shared dreams. Did they share desire too?

Peter peered at them, heart pounding as he made a decision.

"I still want to help," Peter said softly, "and… I want more than that."

Tony seemed surprised by his answer but the symbiote swirled around his ear, hissing in amusement.

"Told you so," it teased.

Tony definitely needed help with the sex pollen. It started off mild enough but the symbiote explained it'd only get worse. Peter didn't want it to get worse so they got started.

It was awkward at first and as much as Peter had fantasies of getting fucked in the lab, Tony wanted a bed. His mentor said it because he was an old man but the symbiote seemed to think it was another reason.

Peter was more than happy to follow them to bed, even if he was a little apprehensive. But it was his first time, so that was easily explained. Add to the fact that he was technically having a threesome for his first time…

It was nerve-wracking and yet… When they fell into bed together, it became so easy. Tony's arms circled around him, pulling him close to a firm human body. That was normal. And Tony's lips were so soft… So soft and so hungry as he kissed Peter gently with ever growing fervor.

It was intense and perfect, their mouths slanting together, barely parting except when a moan refused to be contained. It was all perfectly normal as far as Peter could tell. He was so caught up in Tony, in the feel of his mouth, his beard scratching pleasantly against his skin… His roaming hands… It was a dream come true to Peter and he embraced it fully. But then, he started to notice other things.

Soft subtle things like Tony reacting to something other than himself. It didn't make him jealous though. In fact, it turned him on to see Tony's expression start to cloud over with pleasure.

The symbiote was making its move and directing its attention to Tony. It was expected but after a while, Peter became… curious.

So it wasn't by accident that when he encountered one of the symbiote's limbs, Peter didn't pull away. It was curled around Tony's hip and Peter explored cautiously.

It was long and solid but the girth of the limb would be thick in one part then taper off into a thinner point only to grow thicker if it joined another section. It moved sinuously and it… it reminded him of tentacles… Peter caressed it as it had done to him when they were talking. The creature seemed to understand and didn't shy away from him.

If anything, it seemed eager enough to touch him back, curling around his wrist and directly his hand to Tony's firm ass. A slight pressure had Peter squeezing and the symbiote purred, pleased. It then traveled up his wrist and then his arm, a warm sort of weight that excited Peter.

From there, the symbiote fully joined them and became an ever-present force. It was attached to Tony for sure, tentatively spilling outside of the older man's body and boldly, shameless, exploring both of their bodies.

Peter could tell it was very familiar with Tony's. It was more careful with him. More tentative but so very curious.

He felt every tendril of inky blackness as it slid around them. He felt it brush against his chest, Tony gasping against his mouth as the symbiote teased his nipples.

"Mm…" Peter watched Tony's mouth drop open, pleasure contorting his features. A tentacle caressed his face, urging the older man to kiss Peter once again.

He moaned into it and shivered when he felt the tendril slide down his neck.

"Ah…" Peter ended up beneath the older man, starting up at him with hooded eyes and a bruised mouth.

"Beautiful…"

Host and symbiote had murmured the same word, sharing the same thoughts while Peter panted up at them.

Tony kissed him again and he arched into it, whimpering when something wrapped around his erection. It wasn't a human hand, but as Peter's hips jerked into the touch, he found that he could care less. It felt warm and tight and perfect.

"Tony…" Peter whined. Was this how it felt for Tony when the symbiote touched him?

"It's okay…" the older man murmured against his mouth. "Anything you don't like, tell us…"

His hips bucked into the tight grip and his entire body spasmed as the symbiote rippled around his erection, squeezing gently and massaging his cock like a living fleshlight.

"It's good…" Peter hissed, "so good, sir… Mmm… Want you to touch me too, please…"

Tony groaned, captivated, breath exhaled in a soft sigh. "Oh, sweetheart, you're a treasure…"

Tony took his request and his hands roamed all over Peter's body, learning all the spots that made him shiver and squirm in their hold. And if he felt the symbiote mimicking Tony's touches, Peter didn't protest. He was far from protesting.

"How far do you wanna go," Tony murmured against his jaw.

He was sucking love bites onto Peter's skin, playing with his healing factor and doing it harder and harder until Peter cried out. It was a miracle that Peter could even process what he was saying.

"We can do it like this… Just running against each other… Making you feel good makes us feel good…"

Peter looked at him through the slits of his eyes. He licked his sore lips and pressed eagerly into the older man's touch. Tony's cock against his hip felt so hot and ready.

"Anything," Peter answered then amended, "everything…"

"Hmm…" Tony's response was a hum of consideration.

There was some hesitation in that one note though and it was something Peter wanted to eradicate. If Tony and the symbiote were one person, he wanted them and everything they could give him. He was so sure of this, of Tony. Of Tony and the symbiote.

"There's more," Tony admitted softly as though doing so would scare him away.

"I want more…" Peter almost begged.

Tony's eyes were so dark. He felt like he should be able to see the symbiote lurking there but he saw nothing. Feeling though… He could feel the symbiote now, feel the way it watched him through Tony's eyes.

Peter shivered and spoke to them both. "I want more… I want both of you. I want… Venom."

The answer seemed to be the right one. The hunger in Tony's eyes grew and he took in Peter's trembling body.

"Turn around…" It was said so softly that Peter would've missed it if not for his spider enhanced hearing.

He did so eagerly and when he felt Tony's hands on his waist, he almost melted into the bed. Instead, Tony kept his hips up in the position he wanted while Peter buried his face into the pillows.

Admittedly, Peter had never felt so exposed as he did right then. Tony and the symbiote could see everything, from his cock bobbing in the air between his trembling thighs to the tiny untouched hole between his cheeks.

"Mr. Stark…" he moaned when he felt Tony spread him open.

"We want a taste, Pete," Tony said, breath fanning over his sensitive hole. "Can we…? Wanna taste you on our tongue... Make you fall apart all around us..."

Oh, God…

"Yes, yes…" Peter babbled. "Do it, sir, do it–"

His words trailed off into incoherent squeaks and moans when they began. A wet, agile tongue licked him there and it was the most surreal experience Peter had ever had.

His breath came in shuttered gasps and his palms curled into fists. One pressed against his mouth as though it was possible to stop the dirty little moans he made from escaping.

The older man's tongue swirled around his hole, teasing and licking. Slurping. All these obscene sloppy noises assaulted his ears as Tony made quick work out of him, reducing him into a babbling, moaning mess.

And just when he forgot about the symbiote, it reminded him. While Tony started tongue fucking him, a wet tendril wound itself back around his cock and two smaller ones attached themselves to his nipples.

He whined when he felt them somehow suck on them, like small little mouths teasing every bit of pleasure they can get out of him.

Peter whimpered when Tony pulled away. The tentacles didn't stop though and he squirmed, hips swaying as the symbiote continued, sucking his nipples, pinching them, stroking his cock...

"Get ready, baby, this is gonna be… something," Tony warned.

Peter barely caught a glimpse of him over his shoulder but what he saw… Maybe any sane person would've been terrified but all Peter saw was Tony. It was a different kind of Tony that was melding with the symbiote but nevertheless, he was still Tony.

He didn't know what Tony was talking about but he trusted him.

The next time he felt Tony's tongue, he did go boneless against the bed. Tony licked him gently, his tongue teasing the sensitive muscle.

"Give it to me…" Peter whispered.

A tendril caressed his cheek and he nuzzled against it. Tony had said pleasuring Peter gave them pleasure. Did that mean they shared pleasure just as they did thoughts and body…?

It was a curious thought, one that was blasted away when Tony pushed his tongue back inside. With some repetition, Peter thought he could get used to the feeling but for now, he tried to stifle a gasp and failed.

Then something changed and– Peter cried out as Tony's tongue grew and elongated, filling up the space in his body and brushing against this sensitive spot inside him. He felt it... Reaching so deep inside him where he didn't think it was possible...

"O-Oh…!" Peter stuttered out in a whine. "Oh, God…!"

Then he remembered how the symbiote's form was fluid-like and seemed to expand and shrink at its desire. He did a full-body shiver with the realization that Tony was doing that to him… Tongue fucking him along with the symbiote.

He was truly a mess now. Tears leaked from the corner of his eyes as that long, fleshy tongue played with his sweet spot.

He had asked for more and he was getting it…

"M-Mister… Starkk…!" He moaned, incoherent.

The symbiote continued to caress his face with gentle tendrils but Peter, teased beyond his limits, didn't want gentle. Just as Tony was licking and tonguing him, Peter, too, put his mouth to good use.

Pleasure… He wanted to make them feel good, both of them.

He kissed the tentacle closest to his face, curled his arm closer so that it was nudged closer. It jerked at the contact but then eagerly traced along his lips as though asking for permission.

Peter moaned and kissed it again. It slipped into his mouth and even though it wasn't a cock and it didn't have the girth of one, Peter still felt so dirty and lustful taking it in. He sucked it like it was a cock, moaning when he heard Tony cry out in pleasure.

Tony's assault continued and it nearly drove Peter crazy. His tongue was reaching in deep inside him… Then he felt something else nudging against his hole alongside Tony's tongue and it was being gentle by slowly working itself in but it was also thicker… He was being stretched even more and it eased itself in, fucking him gently.

He didn't know if it was more of the symbiote's tentacles or if it was Tony's fingers. He couldn't bear to look… The sight of Tony eating him out while he was being fingerfucked would make him come. And he wanted to last, at least until Tony fucked him.

"Mmm–" His words were muffled around the tentacle in his mouth but as soon as he tried, it withdrew. He was left gasping, mouth open in a drawn-out moan.

"Wait…" he groaned desperately, "m gonna come, M-Mr. Stark…"

"Come then, baby…" Tony encouraged him when he pulled away. "We'll lick you clean..."

Even without his tongue, the other insertion continued to pump in and out of him. It was joined by another and another... Slimmer than the first but he still felt it, the way all three moved and pumped in and out of him in varying motions.

Tentacles then…

Peter's head swayed side to side, words escaping him as his hips pushed back in needy little jerks.

"Fuck me…" Peter gasped out. "Please, Mr. Stark… Need it…"

Tony groaned behind him and Peter was almost certain he'd go back to rimming him but then he was hauled up to his knees by a very strong grip. He gasped, shock and pleasure shooting through him like a jolt of thunder.

The hand that gripped his waist was black with the symbiote's flesh and larger than a normal human's.

He felt Tony's cock press between his cheeks, rubbing against his wet hole. He shuddered and wondered if the pollen could transfer… Via spit or other fluids… If it could, he was certain he'd been dosed too. But the reality was, he was just this needy for the older man, this hungry to get fucked by Tony and his symbiote.

Tony shifted a bit and the large, heavy girth of his cock pushed between Peter's soft inner thighs. Tony was more than human in this state, and his cock, like the rest of him, was being supplemented by the symbiote.

"I could fuck you like this… Or I could fuck you as just myself…" Tony murmured, soft and intimate in his ear. He gently led Peter's hand between his legs, let him feel just how much his cock was different when he was like this. It felt… massive and pressed between his thighs, it looked impossible.

And yet, Peter wanted it. He wanted everything Tony could give him. Even with his breathing shallow, his mind balanced on the dangerous edge of fear and excitement, he wanted it.

"Will it fit? It's so big..." Peter asked, breathless. His fingers curled around the fat tip, rubbing along the sensitive undersides.

Tony gave a breathy moan of pleasure before he said, "It'll fit, baby, we'll make it fit…"

Peter took in one last shuttered breath before nodding. "Do it…"

Tony was oh so gentle with him when he finally fucked him. Peter felt the strength restrained in his limbs as he did and knew Tony was being gentle on purpose. It was… Peter's first time, after all.

It was a lot to take in but as Tony promised, they made it work. The rimming had helped and, with a flushed face, Peter could admit that the extra attention the symbiote gave him helped too. Properly prepared, Peter's body still struggled to take him in but they were determined to do it. Inch by inch… Tony carefully pushed into him, breath ragged as he took Peter's first time.

Peter gripped anything within reach which was Tony's arms as he took his first cock. White knuckled, he bore through the sensation of being penetrated and God, he felt so full… He whimpered when he felt the press of Tony's hips against his ass and his head lolled against the older man's chest.

"Taking us so well, sweetheart…" Tony praised into his ear, "every damn inch…. Fuck, baby… We can feel it... Feel you squeezing down on us, ah– You wanna get fucked so badly... So fucking perfect for us..."

He felt the warmth of that praise but all Peter could do was moan, helpless and speared open on their cock.

"Let go, baby," Tony murmured. Peter vaguely noted his voice was rougher and deeper. "We'll take care of you… Make you feel so good..."

Some part of him remembered that he was the one that was supposed to be helping Tony but the words escaped him. With his head against Tony's chest, Peter looked at him with glazed eyes. The face staring back at him was monstrous, gleaming black clinging to Tony's tanned flesh and those teeth... Venom's white pupilless eye on one side and Tony's familiar brown in the other.

Peter came with a strangled cry. The combination of the symbiote stroking him and Tony fucking him was too much. He had waited so long that he was surprised he didn't come earlier.

His release spurted into open air and all over the symbiote's tentacles that had been touching him. More dribbled down his pulsing cock, only to be collected and carried to Tony's lips. Tony kept his promise and licked away every drop.

Even soft, Peter wanted Tony to keep going. He knew he'd be hard in no time.

"Please…" Peter moaned, tipping his face up and hoping for a kiss.

They answered him, leaning down and giving him the kiss he didn't know he was craving. It was wet and savage, Venom's long alien tongue running over his human one. Even then, his lover was careful with his teeth. Peter never once felt the deadly sharp edge of those teeth, just the wet agile glide of their tongue as his eyes slipped closed.

He was fucked gently at first. Every push and pull felt like he was being turned inside out with Venom's alien cock dragging along his soft insides. He was probably ruined for any other, he couldn't imagine sex being anything but this…

His senses were dialed up to a hundred and every caress, every sloppy kiss, every nudge of Venom's cock against his sensitive prostate was just short of overwhelming. The only thing he could do was breathe through it and adapt.

It was a struggle but he was reminded at every turn that this wasn't just a fuck. The gentleness was almost lovemaking and when he finally got used to it… He craved more.

He craved the feeling of Venom/Tony's muscles flexing under his hands, craved the punishing thrusts that he knew his lover was capable of.

Peter worried that the next time he begged for more, he'd be denied. He was never so happy to be wrong.

Once they knew he was capable of taking them, they gave him the more he wanted. Manhandled and practically lifted into the air, each wrist and ankle held firmly by Venom's tentacles, they fucked Peter with careful abandon. He was Spiderman and more than capable of taking a beating but they were Venom and they weren't going to risk hurting him besides bruising up his lips with kisses, his skin with their teeth, and his insides with their cock.

It was more than enough. Tentacles were touching every part of his body, teasing his nipples, rubbing against his cheeks, fucking his mouth, massaging his cock… And smaller but still substantial tentacles pushing in and out of his body, sometimes syncing up with Tony's thrusts and other times moving in contrast to it.

He felt… So… full…

His second orgasm was dragged out of him and by the time the last pulses of cum spurted out of him, he was boneless in Venom/Tony's hold.

"Come…" he murmured against a tentacle teasing his mouth "Inside me, please…"

He felt Tony's body shudder, his chest working hard to draw breath as he chased after his orgasm. Peter's eyes slipped closed, focusing on the way his lover's thrusts went from smooth and precise to short and sloppy.

He let out a soft cry when he felt Tony come inside. A flood of heat warmed his worn body and it came in several loads as Tony groaned, helpless and vulnerable as he filled Peter up.

They were a mess after. Tony's bedsheets were ruined for sure.

Sweaty and exhausted, but feeling beyond sated, Peter murmured, "Okay, now?"

The older man pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

"More than," he replied. He carried Peter into a spare bedroom but instead of leaving him there, Tony joined him under the covers. Now that Peter knew about the symbiote, he could feel its presence like a slight tickle in the back of his mind, his spider senses licking something up that wasn't quite human.

Tony's arm, entirely human, wrapped around his waist and dragged him back so they were pressed Peter's back to Tony's front.

"Round two in ten?" Peter teased with a soft hum.

He felt Tony chuckle against his ear, "That can be arranged."

The soft tickle of a tentacle along his neck was all he needed to know the symbiote was in sync with those plans as well.

#starker #madstarker writes #Venstarker #Whatever the ship name is for Starker and venom symbiote #nff #moody mads

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