#i wanted to keep mary as peter's mom because in a lot of the few winterdad fics i've read | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

The Stars Were Bright Above | Peter Parker

✦ pairing — Peter Parker x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 12k

✦ fake dating AU

✦ summary — in an attempt to make your best friend Harry jealous, you accept to fake date Peter who needs to cover up his big secret.

✦ request — I just read your Harry series and I was wondering if you could do something similar where reader is in love with Harry and she fake dates Peter and falls for him?

✦ warnings — angst, family issues, mentions of food and alcohol, language, reader and Peter are in college, brief depictions of anxiety, sexually suggestive content, drama between friends, fluff.

✦ author's note — whew, this one was supposed to be a quick one shot that’d help me get back into writing after days with a horrible migraine and then I completely lost control of it. I managed to find a compromise in 12k words after an excruciating editing process. Hope it’s coherent and that you like it!

════════════════════════

“I would love to stop and chat,” you told Peter as you looked for your keys, “but I’m in a hurry.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

If only you could find the stupid keys first! Oh, well, you’d check your backpack once you were in the parking lot.

Peter could have used the time it took you to cross campus to tell you whatever it was he wanted to say. Instead, he fiddled with the straps of his backpack and walked beside you in complete silence.

“I need a favor,” he finally said when you stopped in front of your car. As though it hadn’t been obvious.

“Peter,” you sighed, trying to hold your open backpack against your knee. A horrible idea, really. “My mom will kill me if I’m late for lunch.”

He took your backpack in his hands and held it for you. “I... it’s embarrassing.”

“We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“It can’t wait!”

His tone made you lift your head. “Are you alright? Is your aunt sick or something?”

He shook his head. “It’s about May in a way... oh, that rhymed.”

“Focus.”

“Right, right. Uhmmm she thought I was hiding something from her—“

You interrupted, “Were you?”

“Kind of,” he admitted. “So I told her I have a girlfriend.”

“I didn’t know you were dating anybody.”

“I’m not.”

“So why did you—“ You groaned. “Oh my God, you’re an idiot.”

“I deserve that one.”

“You want me to convince Gwen?”

“Gwen? Why would—“ He shook his head. Avoiding your eyes, he said, “I told her it was you.”

“And she believed you?”

“I’m as shocked as you are!”

“So you want me to lie to your aunt and tell her I’m dating you.” You closed your backpack, having had no luck finding your keys.

“More or less.” Peter continued holding your backpack, patiently waiting for you to retrieve it. “I was thinking more along the lines of lying to everybody and tell them we’re dating.”

You brought a hand to your hair, lightly gripping it for a moment. “I’m not a good actress.”

“I think your keys are in your hoodie.”

You palmed the front pocket where the sound of metal against metal let you know he was right. Introducing your hand, you withdrew the keys. “How did you know?”

“I heard them.”

“You have amazing hearing.” You reached over to take your backpack.

He handed it to you. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

You unlocked the car and opened the back door on the driver’s side. Leaving your backpack onto the backseat, you heard Peter ask, “So... are you helping me?”

Standing straight, you turned to peer at him. You had to squint as the sun hit your face. “Can we talk later or tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Text me. Please.”

Peter had always been considerate with you and this time was no different. He patted your back before walking away on the opposite direction.

You bit your bottom lip. “Hey.”

Peter turned around. “Mmh?”

“Want me to drop you off?”

“Sure.”

It was nice to have some company in the car after a pretty lonely day. Gwen was nowhere to be seen and you didn’t share classes with Mary Jane. You had other friends, but they didn’t make you feel complete like Gwen, Mary Jane, Flash, Peter, and Harry did.

Harry...

You couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “Did you tell Harry?”

He didn’t sound surprised. “I was waiting for your answer. I told May she was the first person to know.”

You hummed. “What would I have to do?”

“She’ll want to confirm it’s true so you’d have dinner with us and then we would act like a couple in front of everybody.”

“Like a couple?”

“Just holding hands and hugging,” he clarified. “Maybe the occasional kiss on the cheek to throw people off their rhythm. Oh, and pet names!”

“You’ve got everything planned, huh.”

“My life depends on this,” he said dramatically.

“Do I get to know your secret if I say yes?”

He considered your question for a moment. “Eventually.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. “When should I come over for dinner?”

Peter’s eyes lit up. “Probably this weekend. I’ll ask May and text you.”

“Cool. I’ll talk to you later, then.”

He nodded. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

You pulled over a few blocks from your family home to put on some makeup, that way you would avoid the chastising that came every time your mom saw the bags under your eyes.

Wondering if Peter could tell the reason behind your helpfulness, you got rid of your hoodie and slipped a sweater on.

Doing this every time you visited after school was tiring, but it was better than putting up with meaningless fights.

Your mom was losing her patience when you arrived, you could see it on her face. She glared at you as you approached her to kiss her cheek. This and the fact that you couldn’t stand pretending so many aspects of your personality, were what lead you to choose to live on your own.

She hadn’t been too happy about it, but she was busy with the family business, her social life, and your sister to complain. Your dad always did what any of you wanted, mostly to make you three shut up.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! Peter needed help with something.”

You sat down next to your sister who lifted an eyebrow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,” your mom suspiciously pointed out.

Oh, so she was keeping tabs on what you did on your free time...

The truth was there had never been anything between you and Peter.

You met him on his first day of college. He was the new kid everybody was intrigued by. Harry hated him at first and although you didn’t, you didn’t speak to him until Harry decided to stop being an asshole.

Now Harry was too busy with Liz, his gorgeous girlfriend, to care about you, his best friend.

It hurt, it really did. You befriended Harry when you were kids and had been inseparable up until now. Of course you had to put up with his weird flings, but he had never cast you aside for them.

You had harbored hope that he was secretly into you, but the less he spoke to you the more you realized he hadn’t found the one until he met Liz. That hurt even more — you were supposed to be the one.

Everything had played out in your mind from the moment you realized you had a crush on him. You would start dating in high school or college, get married, have kids, be a happy family...

But ever since he left you by yourself at a party when he was supposed to be your ride, you realized he hadn’t cared as much as you did.

Peter walked you to your apartment that night and made sure you drank plenty of water. He didn’t have to do it, Gwen and Mary Jane had already offered to do it themselves, but for some reason he felt like it.

You took a sip of water, realizing your mom and your sister were waiting for an answer. “He’s nice,” you opted for saying.

“Nice, eh,” you sister teased you.

“Yeah, nice. Is there a problem with that?”

You knew that attitude would only make them believe they were right in their assumptions. It was what Peter needed from you either way.

Truthfully, Peter wasn’t always nice, but you knew he tried.

“Are we waiting for dad?” you asked.

Your mom nodded. “He’ll be home any moment now.”

Your mom never complained when your dad was late, or when he was too busy to come home for lunch. You were used to it, she was biased in his favor — she had been since you were a child.

You checked your phone to keep yourself entertained. The Notification Center showed multiple badges, but the messages one caught your eye immediately.

Gwen💛: Missed you today.

You unlocked your phone to reply that you had missed her too when another text came in.

Pete: May said it would be cool if the three of us had dinner on Saturday.

You answered Peter first.

Sounds good to me. Just tell me what should I bring.

Your presence is more than enough, you’re our guest.

You huffed a laugh as you typed. Look at you trying to be cute.

I’ll have you know I’m extremely cute all the time.

Yeah, yeah. Should I bring dessert?

You don’t have to bring anything if you don’t want to.

I will strangle you the moment I see you, Peter.

Just say yes or no.

Maybe.

I hate you.

That’s not the proper way to treat your boyfriend :(

You could picture the glint in his eyes as he tried not to laugh.

You went along with it. I’m sorry, babe :(

I forgive you because I’m a nice boyfriend.

Won’t happen again. <3

Now let’s hope we can talk like that in person.

Are you daring me to sweet talk you in person?

Yes.

Your mom called your name. “Your dad asked you a question.”

You lifted your head. “Mmh?”

“No, no, continue texting,” he said sarcastically, “I have all day.”

You quickly typed TTYL and locked your phone. “Sorry.”

Your dad shook his head. “You and Harry always do this.”

“I wasn’t texting Harry,” you felt the need to explain. Harry didn’t deserve credit for this. “What did you want to ask?”

“I asked,” he remarked the word. “If you would be busy this weekend. Your sister won’t be.”

“I— uhmmm... I’m having dinner with Peter and his aunt on Saturday.” You saw your sister purse her lips beside you. “Did you need anything?”

“To spend time with my family.”

“I guess I can come over on Sunday or Saturday morning.”

“I was thinking about going out of town for the weekend,” he clarified.

“The three of you can go if you don’t want to wait another week,” you assured them. “I already told Peter I would have dinner with him and his aunt so I can’t cancel. I also have projects to do.”

════════════════════════

You rested your head on Gwen’s shoulder as both of you waited for Mary Jane in the cafeteria. They never made you feel like a third wheel even though they were dating so you never avoided spending time with them.

Mary Jane arrived accompanied by Peter. He looked extremely serious but he didn’t say anything as he stood across the table, staring at you like a child scared of saying what they had been up to. She elbowed him on the side before sitting down.

Peter got closer to you. “Can we talk?” he asked. “It’s important.”

You nodded, lifting your head off Gwen’s shoulder. As you stood up, you felt her hand squeeze yours which prompted you to turn and look at her.

She gave you a playful look that made you realize she wanted to know every detail once you were done. As your eyes crossed Mary Jane’s, you saw a similar sentiment in them.

“I’ll be right back,” you told them to pacify them.

He guided you to an empty area which wasn’t such an easy task. You ended up resting your shoulder against the wall, facing Peter while he looked around.

His eyes landed on you as he spoke in a hushed voice. “Can we start today?”

You mirrored his tone. “Fake dating?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“Well, you’re changing the plan,” you explained. You hated changing plans, even more so when you weren’t sure you were the right person to execute them.

“I know. Just a day earlier, though.” He unashamedly pouted.

“Okay,” you said, this time sure. “Any particular reason?”

“There’s this freshman who thinks I flirt with her just because I’m nice to her and she’s creeping me out. I feel like she follows me around.”

You sighed. “She just has a crush on you, don’t be a baby.”

“Please?”

“I already said yes, you baby.”

“You kinda like calling me baby, don’t you?”

You playfully shoved him “You’re so annoying.” However, before he could leave to do whatever it was he did in his free periods, you grabbed him by the wrist. “Does Mary Jane know about your plan?”

“No. Why?”

“You arrived together.”

“Ah. No.” He shook his head. “I was looking for you and asked her if she had seen you.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah...”

You shifted on your feet. “So what now?”

“Do you have class next period?”

“Sadly.”

He chuckled. “I’ll walk you to class.”

“Wanna hang out with us for a little bit?”

“I gotta talk to Flash.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Gonna ask him out too?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m never telling you who I find attractive ever again.”

“Good. Don’t wanna make your girlfriend jealous — do you, babe?”

Peter leaned over. His breath fanned on your face as he said, “Don’t worry, baby, I only have eyes for you.” He then kissed your cheek. “I’ll be right back. Wait for me with Gwen and Mary Jane.”

You nodded, hoping you didn’t look as stunted as you felt.

Both your friends stared at you, desperate to hear an explanation. You understood why, but you were still trying to come up with an excuse as to why you were so flustered over a kiss on the cheek.

You checked your phone, but there was nothing worthy of your attention.

Mary Jane spoke first, “What did Peter need?”

“We are a thing now.”

Gwen hummed. “But what did he need?”

“Permission to make it public.”

Mary Jane scratched her cheek. “Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“You think he’d be a bad boyfriend?”

“I think you shouldn’t use him to make Harry notice you.”

That was harsh. Perhaps you deserved the reminder that Harry couldn’t care less about you, and perhaps you also deserved to feel bad for trying to use Peter against him — you would’ve preferred if the reminder didn’t come from your best friend.

“I’m not,” you partially lied. “I genuinely like Peter.”

True to his word, Peter walked you to class. You didn’t hold hands, it didn’t feel right, but he sweetly told you that he’d be waiting for you after your last class.

You saw Harry across the hallway, talking to Liz and one of her friends. For a second you thought he would walk towards you, the way he held your gaze had been almost cruel.

But he didn’t, he just gave you a nod and walked in the opposite direction, hand in hand with Liz.

You had better things to worry about. Your classes, your family’s expectations, helping Peter — reciprocal things to an extent. So why couldn’t you just get over the fact that Harry didn’t care about you?

Somebody poked you on the arm with their finger. Turning to the side, you found Flash who shot you a smile.

“What’s up?” you greeted him.

“We have a project to finish.”

You cursed under your breath. “Are you free on Sunday?”

“Nope.”

“Tomorrow?”

He tilted his head. “Yeah. I’ll drop by your place.”

“At what time?”

“Like 2 or 3 in the afternoon. Don’t wanna wake you up by mistake again.”

Peter laughed behind you, having caught that last part.

You ignored Peter. “I have something to do after 5. Why don’t you come over early? I promise I’ll be awake.”

Flash shared a look with Peter and then patted your shoulder. “Cool. See you tomorrow, sleeping beauty.”

Peter snickered, standing beside you now.

“Stop laughing.”

“I just can’t believe you’re that grumpy in the mornings.” He started walking towards the exit.

You walked beside him. “You don’t know the whole story.”

He opened the door for you and then followed your steps. “You can tell it tomorrow at dinner.”

Craning your neck go look at him, you asked, “You want your aunt to laugh at me?”

“I’ll defend you.”

You suddenly remembered that you didn’t know what you were supposed to do or say in front of his aunt. You had met her before, but that fact made this situation even more bizarre.

You tried to start with an easy question, “Should I wear a dress for tomorrow?”

“You can wear whatever you want,” he assured you.

Well, that wasn’t helpful at all.

════════════════════════

You checked the time on your phone and realized you had a message from Flash. He was on his way.

Looking around your bedroom, your eyes fell on the bed where a pile of clothes laid. The sight stressed you out, and even more the fact that you didn’t seem to be able to set your mind on an outfit.

You anxiously waited for Flash at the door, pulling it open the moment you were aware of his presence on the other side.

He lifted both eyebrows. You usually took your sweet time to answer the door.

“We sh—“

You interrupted him. “I need your help with something else first.”

Flash softly dropped the materials he had been carrying onto the couch as he gave you a skeptic look. “I’m not disposing of a body for you.”

You took him by the wrist, dragging him to your bedroom. It wasn’t an abnormal occurrence by any means, he honestly should have had expected it.

“God, not again.” He sighed as his eyes fell on the pairs of shoes scattered around the room.

“Come on, just tell me if I should wear that skirt.” You pointed at the black skirt on top of the mountain of clothing. “Or jeans.”

He opened his arms, unsure as to what to tell you as his hands stayed in an awkward angle.

“What would you want me to wear if I were meeting your family?” you encouraged him to help you.

He cocked his head, looking at you through his lashes. “A straight jacket.”

“Please take this seriously.”

Inhaling deeply, he set his eyes on the pile of clothes. “Is the skirt more comfortable than the jeans?”

“I’m not thinking about comfort.”

“Well, you should. You know May will make you squirm with her questions.”

“No skirt, then.”

“It’s just dinner,” Flash reminded you, “wear something casual.”

”Yeah,” you sighed, “just dinner.”

What an easy thing to say. You knew so few details that you might as well make a fool of yourself in front of May.

Flash ignored your semblance even though you knew he took note of it. He reached his hand into one of the bags he had been carrying then handed you a paper bag. “I brought breakfast.”

“Why didn’t you say so when you arrived?”

He glared at you. “Why don’t you get us something to drink instead?”

You ate breakfast sat on the living room floor while discussing your project. Flash wasn’t the most responsible person ever, but he was by far the best partner you ever had for a project.

However, his comment from earlier made you wonder something. Unable to hold it anymore, you asked, “How did you even know about the dinner?”

“Peter told me,” he answered simply.

“He did?”

“Why are you so shocked?”

You shrugged. “I thought we would wait a little bit longer.”

“Yeah, but it was bound to happen.”

“Don’t,” you warned him.

“Why not? I told you you’d end up having a crush on him.”

“Flaaaaaaaash!”

You hated to prove him right and although this was different, you wouldn’t lie and say Peter wasn’t attractive or crush material.

“Peter’s cool.”

“You don’t have to convince me, I’m already dating him.”

“I’m just pointing out that he’s an upgrade.”

There it was.

Flash took a dislike towards Harry when Harry started dating Liz which was normal because she was his ex, but it turned into vitriol really quickly.

Both Flash and Harry put Peter in an awkward situation the first few months. Now you didn’t know much about it — Harry complained about it with you at first, but he stopped.

“It’s different.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

You frowned, looking into your half-empty cup of coffee.

“I can see through you.”

“Mary Jane told you her theory, didn’t she?”

“She thinks the same?” You nodded. He pensively hummed. “She didn’t tell me, to be honest. I’m only trying to look out for you and Peter.”

“I like him, I don’t know why you think I don’t.”

Flash didn’t spare you as he reminded you, “Because you said the same about your ex.”

“Yeah and look how that went!”

“(Name).”

“What?”

“Stop comparing guys you like to Harry and I promise you things will go well.”

He really could see right through you.

“I’ll stop. I promise.” Not knowing why, you added, “It’s not even that hard, Peter is... Peter. You know what I mean? Like how can you compare him to other people or other people to him?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Oh no. “Do you like him?” you blurted.

Flash laughed softly. “Not in that way, no.”

“You sure? I don’t want things to be weird.”

“Peter might be handsome and cool,” he admitted, “but we wouldn’t work as a couple.”

“You think Peter and I would?” you incredulously asked.

“You will, yeah.”

You were truly nervous now. Not because of May’s potential questions or because you would have to lie — actually, you didn’t know where the nerves were coming from.

You just knew that Flash’s words resonated with you. He went from hating Peter to being his close friend which in your eyes meant he knew Peter better than anyone.

Did Flash know what Peter was hiding? Perhaps that was what he was alluding to when he assured you Peter and you would work as a couple.

The day went by extremely quickly. You weren’t mentally ready when Flash left or when you were on your way to Peter’s for that matter.

Peter was waiting for you in the lobby with hands in his pockets and shifty eyes.

“Is she like mad or something?” you asked instead of greeting him. You were ten minutes early so tardiness couldn’t be the issue.

He made a face, jerking his head as he gazed at you. He looked confused. “She’s just worried.”

What if she got angry at you when you hadn’t done anything? Peter told you to act normal, but normal you wasn’t madly in love with him.

As you approached the apartment, you found yourself thinking you were either going to ruin this or find out you deserved an academy award.

Peter opened the door and allowed you to come in first. May smiled at you before giving you a side hug in greeting.

“I brought dessert,” you told her as you parted from her.

“Oh, honey, you didn’t have to.”

Okay. Not angry yet.

She placed the dessert onto the table and motioned for you and Peter to sit.

Peter and you grabbed the chair at the same time. He opened his eyes wide, making you withdraw your hands immediately. He took the chair out for you.

Peter could be polite when he wanted, but you were getting worried. Since when did he treat the people he dated like this?

Nonetheless, you sat down.

May didn’t waste time and touched the subject pretty quickly. The moment she served dinner, she said, “I thought Peter was messing with me at first.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he defended himself.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” she said sardonically.

“I thought he was messing with me when he asked me out, so I get it.”

Peter looked at you in shock and you unconsciously smiled at him.

May cooed. “I don’t understand why you two hid your relationship for months when you’re so cute together.”

“I didn’t want it to be awkward with our friends,” you quickly lied. “What if it didn’t work out or something?”

Your answer would have made sense if your relationship with Peter was real and that would be your strategy from now on. He couldn’t have a secret that would need you to lie that often.

May was so happy with your answers that the conversation deviated from you and Peter to everything but your love life.

You felt a little silly now, having expected the worst when Peter had already told you she was just worried.

He walked you to your car at the end of the night, something you guessed would become a common occurrence.

Things had gone well with May so you had no reason to think things wouldn’t go well with your friends.

You gnawed on the inside of your bottom lip. “Are things going to be awkward now?”

“Between us?”

You nodded. “I mean... saying shit is one thing, but you know...” God, you felt awkward already.

Peter frowned for a moment. “Give me your hand.”

Shifting on your feet, you asked, “You want your hand to be under mine or on top?”

“I don’t mind. You choose.”

You slid your arm under his, opening your palm but not touching him yet. He took the initiative and pressed his hand against yours.

“Is this okay?” he softly asked.

“Yes.”

He intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing a little bit. You huffed a laugh.

“This too?”

You nodded.

“Well, that’s the only thing that’ll change between us. We already hug pretty often.”

Oh, Peter gave the best hugs. Although Gwen was a close second, you preferred his because he was always warm. He also smelled good, but you had to give it to Gwen and admit she did too.

“I’ll see you on Monday, then, boyfriend.”

“Drive safe, girlfriend.” Before you could say anything, he added, “Text me when you get home.” Yet he didn’t let go of your hand immediately.

════════════════════════

Harry didn’t take the news of your relationship with Peter that well. The moment he saw you holding hands, he made his way towards you.

Peter squeezed your hand, easing your nerves. He was there, nothing could go wrong with Peter there.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Harry drily asked you.

“In twenty minutes or so,” you softly answered.

“Well, can I talk to you?”

You turned to Peter, hoping he’d save you from an awkward conversation. Sure, you wanted a reaction from Harry, but not an angry one!

“It’s okay, baby.” Peter kissed your hair as he let go of your hand. “I’ll see you later.”

With a shaky sigh, you motioned Harry to lead the way.

He immediately asked, “Why Peter?”

You stuttered. “I... things just happened.”

“Did they have to happen with my other best friend?”

In a twisted way, they had to. But you couldn’t possibly tell him that. “You didn’t care when Gwen had a crush on him, why is this any different?”

His eyes sharpened. “It just is.”

Many things just were. That didn’t mean anything. You wished you had the courage to reply.

As always, you gave him the upper hand and allowed him to make another question. “It’s not serious, right?”

What were you supposed to say? The thing that’d make him angry or the thing that’d pacify him? How selfish of you to be thinking about making Harry jealous when Peter needed this to be believable.

“It’s too soon to know.”

Harry hummed, softly nodding. “I’ll walk you to your class.”

You frowned. He had never done something like that.

“You’re coming to my birthday party, right?”

You almost tripped as you answered, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Cool. I’ll see you there.”

Thirteen-year-old you was right when she thought boys were confusing, but Harry surely took the cake. You assumed he’d ask you to hang out more often given his reaction, but there he was telling you —on a Monday— that he’d see you on Saturday.

Harry’s attitude soured your entire morning. If classes were already unbearable, he made you want to skip each one of them. Your friends noticed, but nobody said anything.

What a horrible morning and what a horrible week it would be until his stupid birthday party rolled around and you’d have to see him show his girlfriend off.

Your friends decided to go to the coffee shop near campus after class and although you weren’t in the mood for socializing, you would rather suck it up than be by yourself.

Besides, coffee shops were always a good place to do homework and you had quite a few projects accumulated.

Peter rested his head on your shoulder in the same way you always rested yours on Gwen’s. You threw your arm around his shoulders as you rested your eyes.

“Are you getting sleepy?” you whispered in case he was.

“No,” he mumbled. “But I don’t wanna move.”

“I have to pick up my sister from the mall in a couple of hours so you’ll have to.”

He whined.

“Who would’ve thought Peter would be a clingy boyfriend,” Gwen teased.

“Literally anybody who has ever seen him drunk,” Flash continued teasing him.

Peter was red. He shifted, trying to hide his face on your shoulder.

In all honesty, you didn’t mind if he was clingy or not. You had been told you were a little too effusive when it came to affection so you had a soft spot for people who were similar in any way.

You withdrew your arm from his shoulders in order to continue typing on your computer.

Peter went back to his previous position, facing your computer too. “You made a typo,” he told you. “Third line on the second paragraph.”

Mary Jane arrived late and she seemed to be in a bad mood so Gwen made up an excuse in front of your friend group as though she knew something you didn’t —she probably did— and took her home.

Looking at the time, you realized it was time for you to get going too so you started to put your things away.

‘I’m leaving with Flash,” Peter reminded you. “Text me or call me if you need me. I might not answer quickly because we’ll be playing video games but just try for a second time, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed your forehead. ”Drive carefully.”

You hummed. “Have fun, Pete.”

“You too, baby.”

Your mom didn’t give you many details when she asked you to pick your sister up. You didn’t even know with which friends she was hanging out with or why they were at the mall on a Monday and not somewhere more fun.

There you were, judging her like you hadn’t followed Harry like a puppy when you were her age.

She texted you that she was on her way to the entrance you were waiting at, telling you she had been all the way across.

It was probably a lie, but you’d let it slide.

Your sister tugged the door open and got into the car in silence, putting her cellphone away as she got comfortable.

“Did you have fun?”

She nodded and smiled at you.

You snickered and poked her cheek. “You have dried lipgloss all over your mouth.”

Your sister bashfully looked down.

You handed her a tissue. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

She stayed silent for a small moment before worriedly asking, “Are you telling mom and dad?”

“No. But I’d like to know who it was.”

She whined. “Do I really have to tell you?”

You tried to put yourself in her shoes. You didn’t know how embarrassing it would have been for you to talk about your first kiss —or kisses— with a family member because nobody really cared when you started dating classmates.

But it didn’t sound fun so instead, you asked, “Are they your age?”

“Yup ”

“You promise?”

Realizing the question was serious, she nodded for emphasis. “Yes.”

“Cool. That’s all that matters.”

Your dad was home so you were forced to stay for dinner which again, was better than being on your own.

You couldn’t wait to either get together with Harry or over him. As things were going, you could only admit it would be the latter.

“Did your friend have a good birthday?”

Your sister looked at you before answering. “Yeah, we saw a movie.”

“What was the movie about?”

Your dad really tried to get along with both of you, you had to give him that. He was bad at it most of the time, but he tried.

Your phone started ringing. As you stared at the screen, you frowned. Unknown numbers rarely called you.

Hesitant, you answered, “Hello?”

“Hi, (Name),” May tried to speak sweetly. The moment you heard her voice, you stood up from your seat on the couch and left the living room. “Peter isn’t answering his phone, can you put him on the line for me?”

You walked into the adjacent studio, weirded out by her request. “He told you he’d be with me?”

“Isn’t he?”

“He is,” you said hurriedly, “I was just curious.”

“Can I talk to him now?” May laughed nervously.

“He went out to buy food and left his phone here. I’ll tell him to call you as soon as he’s back.”

“Thank you.”

You texted him multiple times as soon as May hung up.

May called. Where are you?

She sounded worried.

I had to lie and say you had gone out to buy food and forgot your phone in case she asks.

Hey.

Pete?

Dude, you’re scaring me.

PETER

Come on

Istg I will lose my shit if you’re messing with me

It’s not funny

You made your way towards the bathroom, needing to splash some water onto your face or something. Anything.

He couldn’t be so immersed in a video game as to not answer multiple calls or texts.

Why would Peter tell May he was with you when he could easily tell her he was with Flash? Was he not at Flash’s anymore?

Perhaps Flash would reply!

You texted him and called him dozens of times before giving up. You didn’t want to think the worst, maybe they were out buying something, but they could be in danger too.

Your hands started shaking pretty quickly when the idea of something happening to him overpowered your thoughts.

You needed to get out of that bathroom and back to the living room where a distraction could meet your anxiety before you went crazy.

So you splashed your face and bolted.

Back in the living room, you caught pieces of your dad’s conversation with your sister. He was boring her with business talk.

You had been in her place many times, and although his tone was more lighthearted with her because the expectations to follow in his footsteps were on you, it was clear he was trying to get her interested in things she didn’t even understand.

Your phone dinged. You immediately looked down.

Pete❤️: I’m okay

What the fuck, Peter?

Where were you?

Busy, sorry.

Did you call May?

Yeah.

Ok.

You didn’t know what else to say. ‘I had a shitty day and you almost gave me a panic attack’ didn’t sound appropriate. It would be truthful, but you couldn’t do that to him.

Where are you?

At my parents’.

He didn’t reply anymore so you locked the device and rested your head on the arm of the couch.

What a fucking day. If your week would be half as exhausting, you were ready to give up on the entire month in advance.

Remembering you were meant to ask if Mary Jane was okay, you unlocked your cellphone again.

As you finished typing your message to Gwen, one from Peter came through.

Can you come out for a few minutes?

Yeah. Give me a moment.

You took a deep breath, fixing your outfit as you slipped your phone into your pocket. You rounded the couch as you attempted to take the path towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” your sister asked.

“Outside. I need to give something to Peter.”

“Don’t take too long,” your dad told you.

You said a meek yes as if you were going to listen to him when you needed to inspect Peter from head to toe just to make sure he was truly okay.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak as Peter slowly approached you. To his credit, he looked fine so he hadn’t lied.

He spoke first, as he should have, “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” you mumbled.

He gave you a look.

Clearing your throat, you opened your arms only to slap your hands against your thighs in defeat. “You had me worried sick.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you going to tell me where were you?”

“I can’t.”

You scoffed. “So I have to cover for you without even knowing what the hell I’m covering?”

He whispered your name, placing his hand on your cheek as he tried to make you look at him.

You closed your eyes. “I don’t mind lying for you,” you softly said, meaning it like you had never meant anything else in your entire life. “But don’t I deserve to know why I’m lying?”

He brought you onto his chest, holding you tight against him. “You do deserve to know,” he admitted. “And I’ll tell you everything, but not tonight.”

You were scared to ask why.

════════════════════════

Peter draped his arm over your shoulder, holding you close to him as the two of you stood with your group of friends.

You hadn’t been in that place in a long time but still remembered where every room was. You also knew in which one Harry would fuck Liz at the end of the night.

You took a sip of alcohol. It didn’t taste like much — a bad sign.

Your eyes fell on the beer pong table. A guy you didn’t recognize and Harry were playing against Mary Jane and Flash. That was a bad sign too.

“I’m gonna refill my cup,” you whispered in Peter’s ear, “do you want me to refill yours?”

He shook his head. “I’ve still got plenty.”

It took you a moment to move and he didn’t make a sign to having found it weird.

The kitchen was quieter, not by much but the change was nice. Something you had always disliked about Harry was his taste in music.

You crashed against a thin body.

Liz took you by the waist and you awkwardly placed your hand on her hip, each of you steadying the other. “Sorry,” both of you apologized at the same time.

“I was distracted,” you insisted.

She took her hands off you and you did the same. Liz extended her hand so she could refill your cup for you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said as she refilled your cup. “Harry thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “You know how he is.”

You didn’t. Not anymore. You took your cup from her, thanking her before bringing it to your lips.

“Well, we’re all here,” you said in pretended optimism. “And we’re all having fun.”

She smiled, looking as pretty as ever. “Damn right we are!”

You went back to Peter while Liz took off to talk to some of her friends. Once again, he threw his arm over your shoulders, hand almost brushing your chest as it dangled.

Mary Jane was back, bored of playing. Flash asked Peter to team up with him. Peter removed his arm from you, telling you he’d be back.

You focused on Peter as he rolled his sleeves on his way to the table.

Feeling something move in your pocket, you took your cellphone out. Your dad was calling.

“I need to take this call,” you told your friends.

The air was cold in comparison to the inside of the house. You let your dad call again and answered the phone, already expecting some kind of bad news.

To his credit, he sounded disappointed while telling you the plans the family had made for the next day were cancelled. He said your mom was upset.

As a child you often heard excuses for his absence. He was busy, his success depended on sacrifices, he tried his best so you and your sister could have everything you wanted.

Harry always told you to be grateful that you had loving parents. You weren’t sure you had the same definition of love.

You still assured your dad you weren’t angry and promised to spend the day with your mom and sister. His silence as an answer to your offer was a reminder that he didn’t believe you were capable of fixing meaningful problems.

You didn’t show how much it hurt you, there was no point. He meant well, your mom and sister did too.

Leaving the party sounded appealing, but your friends didn’t deserve it. You sucked it up and went back to the house.

Peter and Flash were bumping fists when you approached the area. They had won the game.

You went directly to the couch, not in the mood for dancing. Peter walked towards you, fixing his hair.

Sitting down, he twisted his upper body. “Is everything okay?”

“My dad just cancelled tomorrow’s family plans and said mom’s kinda upset.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Neither am I.” You changed the subject, “I’m surprised you won that game, though.”

“You don’t have faith in me?”

You swiped your tongue across your bottom lip. “I never said that. But you have to admit you’ve never been one for taking part in games. Last time I saw you play something, you got your ass handed to you by Flash.” Twisting your mouth, you tilted your head. He looked down. “You’ve never played sports, right?”

He didn’t answer.

You insisted, “Right?”

He hummed, nodding at the same time as though it made any sense.

“Were you even listening?”

“No,” he quickly admitted. “Can I kiss you?”

Oh. He had been looking down at your mouth.

He caught you off guard. You couldn’t say no, though, you didn’t want to say no. “Yes,” you answered him.

He started slow and sweet, with his hand on your cheek as the other rested on his lap. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you just closed your eyes and kissed him back, following his rhythm.

He slowly build the kiss up, sucking your bottom lip between his. Gripping the front of his sweatshirt, you boldly bit down his bottom lip in return.

Peter wrapped his free arm around you then he brought you closer, flush against him. His tongue tried to pry your mouth open in the exact moment you were about to do the same. Your tongues clashed together and instead of turning it all awkward, it only prompted you to grab him by the hair.

Peter hummed on your mouth and continued kissing you. Now he had both hands on your body, holding you tightly by the waist.

Maybe you could take him to another room, maybe you could feel his hands on you without the burden of your clothes.

His vice grip on you made you feel like floating and you suddenly wondered why you hadn’t made out with Peter before. It didn’t have to be anything serious, it didn’t have to go past messing around.

He was attractive, so were you. Why hadn’t you seen it before? Why had you denied yourself this when he was so good at kissing and his touch was so rough you were sure he would leave marks? And you wanted him to do it, you wanted him to let himself loose on you.

Fuck, you were getting horny over your fake boyfriend.

And as if he knew exactly what was going on inside your hazy mind, he attached his lips to your neck. It was over, you were done — it would be a failure if you didn’t manage to take him to a private room or back to your apartment.

Resting a hand on his thigh as you pushed yourself over, you felt the vibration of his throat as he whimpered while you kissed him.

Something buzzed under your hand, prompting both of you to part. Panting, you stared at each other for a moment. His hair was a mess and he had never looked prettier.

He withdrew a hand from your body to take his cellphone out. You knew the mood had completely been killed when he sighed and locked the device.

“I need to do something,” he announced as he stood up. “I’ll be back.”

What? You didn’t have a chance to react, he just left you there, hot and bothered.

════════════════════════

You padded your way toward the kitchen for the second time since you had gone to bed. Sleep wasn’t necessarily elusive that night, but you found yourself waking up every hour.

Turning the lights on, you looked at the time. Almost 4:00 am. You filled a glass with water and slowly drank it.

You knew the tough day you had with your family was still doing a number on you even though you had left early, you also knew you should have been used to it by now.

Tapping against glass took you out of your mind, bringing you goosebumps. As the sound continued, you realized it was coming from the living room.

You considered going back to your room and locking yourself up which sounded safer, but curiosity overpowered logic.

A figure loomed over the windowpane. You wondered if your mind was tricking you — you lived in the fifth floor.

The figure became clearer as you got closer to the window. You let out a relieved sigh. Spider-Man waved. You tilted your head — why would Spider-Man want to visit you?

Maybe he was hurt and needed help.

You opened the window. “Can I help you?”

He nodded upward, letting you know he needed to come in. You let him, moving to the side.

He took the liberty to close the window once he was inside. You stood before him, assuming he would verbally tell you what he needed.

He wasn’t hurt from what you could see. He walked just fine, his breath wasn’t ragged... You were more confused now.

Reaching to the back of his head, Spider-Man took the mask off. Brown eyes bore into yours.

“You wanted to know what I was hiding...” Peter trailed off.

“You’re joking.”

He stepped closer to you. “I’m not.”

He had to. His sense of humor wouldn’t match a joke like this, but he had to.

The suit didn’t look like a cheap costume, but there had to be another explanation. Yes, it made sense — every time he disappeared out of nowhere and worried you sick, those days he sported black eyes or cuts on his face... but you didn’t want this to be the truth.

You dragged your finger down his arm to feel the texture of the suit.

Peter took a deep breath.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s okay, baby,” he huskily said. When he got no answer, Peter added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you baby.”

You inhaled deeply. “I get it, you’re getting used to it.”

He hummed, eyes on you as he sighed.

You placed your hand on his bicep. “Are you okay, Pete? I’m not going to tell anybody if that’s what worries you.”

His hands found their place on your waist. You leaned closer, seeking his warmth. Peter opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it.

He leaned in and kissed you, tentative as he gave you time to push him off you. But you didn’t, why would you?

You ran your hand through his hair as you kissed him back, already familiar with the shape of his lips and the warmth of his mouth.

He pushed you onto the wall as he shoved his tongue inside your mouth. His kiss became sloppy while his hands started wandering down.

He gripped your thighs, bringing your legs up so you’d wrap them around his waist. Both of you ground against the other, sloppily kissing. You could hear the sound your mouths were making and feel his hot breath on your face.

He was driving you crazy.

Peter didn’t stop there. Giving you room to breathe, he lowered his mouth to your neck where he took his time to find your sweet spot.

You felt his fingers up your thigh, where he played with the edge of your sleeping shorts.

He kissed, sucked, and licked his way up to your ear. “Is this okay?”

You hummed against his mouth before kissing him again pawing at his suit, desperate to feel his skin under your fingertips. Frustrated, you broke the kiss. “How do you even take this thing off?”

He chuckled and gave you another kiss. “I’ll teach you.”

“Are you gonna strip for me?” you joked. Why were you making jokes right now?

Peter tilted his head. “Is that what you want?”

The idea wasn’t bad at all, yet you answered truthfully, “I just want to touch you.”

He didn’t deny you anything that morning. You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed yourself that much with a sexual partner.

You didn’t leave an inch of his body untouched, relishing in his reactions. He wasn’t ashamed to tell you if he liked something, or to ask you to touch him firmly.

Peter didn’t hold back either. All he wanted was you and you weren’t complaining. He gripped you tightly and sucked on your skin as much as he was able to.

There would be bruises on you by the next day, and there would be scratches on him if his powers didn’t heal him quickly.

You liked this side of him, the side that fucked you into the mattress and groaned above you. He wasn’t scared of breaking you or hurting you — for a moment you wondered how it would feel if he did it.

He came on your belly then cleaned you up afterwards which was more than appreciated. You weren’t even sure you could speak properly when he asked if you needed water.

He brought you a glass either way, of course he did.

The sun was up when you were done, too tired to move and too spent to complain. Peter was back on the bed, warm body pressed against yours.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” you tiredly answered. “I’m good.”

He held you tighter, laying his head on your chest.

You lazily dragged your fingers down his spine. “Is everything okay?”

“It was a long night,” he told you in a low voice.

You chose to believe he had visited because he thought you could provide him comfort, and you also decided that you always could — that you were okay with doing so. Even if most things about your relationship were fake, this one didn’t have to be.

════════════════════════

Peter and you never talked about it, and although you would have liked to hear the reasons behind his actions that night, you didn’t need to because it continued happening.

Having sex made pretending easier. He always had an arm around you or a hand on your body around your friends and by now you not only were used to his touch but sought it.

You often woke up next to him, sometimes clothed and sometimes naked. He always woke up before you, but he never left immediately. You wanted to know why.

Flash had been right to assume you’d develop a crush on Peter and now you had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t just a crush anymore.

You worried about him and wanted to be around him every second of every day, you liked hearing him tell you about his classes and his day — you liked that he always asked about yours, that he was willing to drop things for you because you would drop everything to be there for him.

Covering for him became a reflex. You had an inkling that May knew you were lying sometimes, but she never said anything according to Peter.

Your friends were happy with the development of your relationship which would have been lovely if this was real. But now you worried that the supposed breakup would disrupt your friend group.

It was hard not to think about it. The day would surely come and you’d be by yourself most of the time again. As if that was the only problem.

And problems continued rolling onto you. The last person you expected to see was at your door.

Harry gave you a smoldering look as you stood speechless. “Are you letting me in?”

You did.

He sat down on the couch, making himself at home even though he had barely visited your apartment.

“I thought you were sick,” he said in reference to the fact that you cancelled plans with your friends the day before.

“I was busy.”

Disgust contorted his face as his eyes fell on your neck. “Busy fucking my best friend?”

You flinched at his tone.

“I should’ve known you were only spending time with him because you wanted to get him into your bed.”

He said it as though you were the type of person to fuck anybody you met, as though you hadn’t rejected people because they weren’t him specifically.

“Believe it or not,” you coldly lied, “I started dating him months and not days before your birthday. You would’ve known about it if you talked to me.”

“Rubbing it on my face, aren’t you? Do you know how embarrassing it was to hear you were making out with him at my house after I told my friends multiple times that you were off limits?” He was seething, expelling droplets of saliva as he reproached you.

“Why would you do that in the first place? You knew I’d end up dating somebody who goes to the same school as us.”

“Why would you go for my best friend specifically? Don’t you care about my relationship with him?”

“Is this what our friendship has come to be? A reproaching fest?”

“You’re the one who crossed the line.”

“Harry, you didn’t have a problem when half our friend group drooled over him!”

“Because that’s different. I know Peter, he’s not right for you.”

You incredulously scoffed. “Funny how you’re the only one who says that.”

“I’ve never been wrong about the guys you’ve dated.”

Well, you couldn’t argue against that. But Flash was right, those guys hadn’t been the problem — the fact that you compared them to Harry was.

“Let time prove either of us right.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?”

“You promised nobody would ever be more important than me.”

You both promised a lot of things as kids... that you would never bring dates to an event you could attend together, that you would attend the same college, that you would be part of the same friend group your entire lives, that you would tell each other everything...

“I’m not saying Pete is more important than you, I’m j—“

“Break up with him, then.”

“You’re making it sound like I have to choose between you and him.”

“Because you have to.” When he didn’t get an answer, he added. “I’ll give you time to think it through.”

You wanted to do anything but think. You wanted to have your best friend back — you didn’t care if he was jealous anymore, you never should have. You weren’t Liz, it was okay, he liked her and you liked somebody else.

“Harry, come on...”

But Harry walked himself out and forced your words to die in your throat.

You never thought he would be as angry as you wanted him to be. You got your anger and your jealousy and your dilemma. He had it all clear, you were the idiot who had to get into this mess.

A shower and a portion of your comfort food later, you decided that you couldn’t be inside your head right now and left your apartment.

It was drizzling. Such a perfect weather to be inside doing everything or nothing alike.

You loved being by yourself at your place. The plan for the day had been just that. But as always, Harry made you change them.

Chastising yourself for forgetting your phone at home, you knocked on the door in front of you.

The door opened and you were greeted with a smile.

You wished you could’ve smiled back. “Hi, May, is Peter home?”

She motioned for you to come in. “He’s in his room. Do you want something to drink?”

“Not now, thank you.”

You knocked on his door, hoping he would answer before May could tell something was wrong with you.

Peter yelled for you to come in. You were an idiot, he probably had heard you talking to his aunt.

Pushing the door open, you stuck your head in. “It’s me,” you softly said just to make sure you had his permission to come in.

“Come in, baby.”

God, not that pet name. Not now.

You closed the door behind you before facing him. He was sat at his desk, writing something down on a notebook as he looked at the computer screen.

Approaching him, you leaned in to see what he was doing. You didn’t understand much of it, science was his thing.

He rotated the chair to face you. “What’s up? You didn’t text me...”

“Forgot my phone at home.”

Peter frowned and dropped his pen on top of the notebook before standing up to move towards his bed. “Are you alright?”

Did you look that bad? You weren’t wearing makeup, but he had seen your bare face plenty of times to be weirded out.

“Can I have a hug?”

Now sat on the bed, Peter opened his arms and legs so you’d make yourself at home between them.

And you did. You hugged yourself to him as tightly as you could, afraid he would let go at any moment.

He didn’t let go, you should have known he wouldn’t — your mind was playing tricks with you, that was it.

“What happened? Why are you upset?”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him. Not yet, not when you were scared he would cut you off from his life just because Harry thought it was for the best.

“Had a long day yesterday and didn’t want to be alone today,” you mumbled.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” he offered. “I’ll let you pick which one we watch while I go get some snacks.”

You whined. “I don’t wanna move.”

“It’s just like ten minutes. We’ll cuddle the entire runtime.”

“You promise?”

He kissed your forehead. “I promise.”

It amazed you how easy it was to trust him, to like him, to want to be with him no matter the moment or the activity.

It took you longer to pick a movie than it took him to come back. You didn’t want any snacks, but you still took them because you didn’t want him to worry too much.

You would worry on your own later.

Peter hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hands rested on your belly as he watched the movie, giving you butterflies every time he laughed against your skin.

How were you supposed to give this up when it felt so good?

════════════════════════

Mary Jane sat across from you, playing with the glass between her hands. She was listening to you, but by the way she was tapping her fingers against the glass, she was dying to interrupt.

You went on and on because you still couldn’t believe Harry would make you choose between him and somebody else. It didn’t even make sense when he had thrown you and Peter to the side when he started dating Liz.

When her time came, Mary Jane spoke, “You shouldn’t care about what Harry says.”

“I care more about the fact that I ran to Peter like a fucking idiot.”

“He’s your boyfriend.”

You knew she was trying to be the voice of reason, but no, he wasn’t. That made it worse. “But doesn’t it make it look like I already chose?”

“Kinda,” she conceded. “But that’s not a bad thing necessarily.”

“Harry and I grew up together.”

“And Peter fucks you stupid. They have different roles in your life.”

You remained silent. Your cup was already empty and you didn’t need more caffeine. In fact, a soothing tea would have been a better choice — you needed to drive after this once your sister was done with her friends.

“Do you still like Harry or something? I will kill you if you say yes.”

You got that from her tone, she didn’t have to tell you. “I don’t know.”

“But you like Peter more... Right?”

“Yeah, I do.” Maybe liking was selling it short at this point.

Peter didn’t make you choose, and if anything between you were real he wouldn’t make you choose either. You were so sure that you would’ve bet your own life on it.

That fact was a problem. Why couldn’t Harry be like Peter?

“Maybe I need another opinion,” you mused out loud.

“Gwen will tell you the same.”

“What about Flash? Maybe if he had all the details...”

“Flash will try to convince you to kill Harry in his sleep.”

“You think so?” Of course he would, but you were desperate.

“He’s team Peter all the way. Honestly, I would think they have something going on if Peter wasn’t so into you.”

You avoided looking at her. “What should I do?”

“What do you want?”

“Just... I don’t know. About what? From what?”

“Do you want to choose?”

“No.”

“You could choose neither of them.”

“But—“ You shook your head.

“No, say it.”

“I can’t.”

Mary Jane wouldn’t pressure you to talk, she wasn’t that kind of person.

“At least tell Peter about it before Harry does,” she advised.

“I’ll tell him once I’m done here.”

It was late when your sister met you at your table. Mary Jane had left two hours earlier and you had even entertained yourself looking around a few stores and come back.

You drove in silence, allowing her to talk if she wanted to. Maybe asking something would’ve been better, but you didn’t have the energy to find out who your sister was dating or why she had decided to hide it.

Enough was already on your plate, and you needed to trust her, unlike your parents.

Stopping the car, you waited for her to get inside. Your mom hurried outside the moment she opened the door and walked towards your car.

She made you a sign with her hand, asking you to roll the window down.

With a sigh, you indulged her.

“Dinner tomorrow,” she drily told you. “You should bring Peter, I think it’s time your dad meets him.”

“Mom, I’m not marrying him or something like that.”

“I don’t care. Bring him.”

Great. Another fucking problem you had to deal with now. Your dad had always been clear on the type of person he wanted for you and Peter was not it. A shame, really.

“I’ll ask if he isn’t busy,” you compromised.

She looked happy with that. Your mom wished you a good night and turned around. You watched her get inside the house, wondering if she truly wanted you there the next day or not. You never knew with her.

You didn’t get to talk to Peter that night. Instead of telling him you wanted to see him so you could talk in person, you told him your parents wanted to have dinner with him.

Peter said yes immediately and asked about the dress code. God, you didn’t even want to think about clothes.

And with good reason — it wasn’t fair that everything suited him. There was no color or style Peter couldn’t pull off.

But it was probably for the best, he’d make a good impression that way.

You wanted your dad to like him and your sister to trust him and your mom to laugh at his lame jokes. You wanted them to see the person you desperately wanted to be in your life until your last day alive.

Truthfully, you didn’t care if he had feelings for you like you did for him. You enjoyed being around him, his friendship was enough.

The surprise the two of you got when Norman and Harry stood up to greet you was extremely hard to hide.

Norman gave you and Peter a warm smile. “I told Harry to bring his girlfriend, but he didn’t listen to me.”

You shifted on your feet, using Peter as leverage to ground yourself by squeezing his fingers between yours.

Your mom smiled tightly. “Next time it will be.”

Much like Flash did with you, Norman talked wonders about Peter to your parents.

You avoided looking at Harry with the pretense of being polite by gazing at whoever was speaking. Such gesture didn’t sit well with him and he showed it by standing up and walking towards you.

Harry inhaled deeply. “Can we talk in private?”

Unconsciously, you turned to look at Peter. He patted your thigh in encouragement.

“Sure,” you feigned enthusiasm.

You walked across the house in silence, wishing he would tell you to forget about what he said before.

Harry stared at you as you looked around the backyard. Not only were you avoiding speaking first, but you were confused as to when the lighting fixtures had been changed.

The spot you were awkwardly standing at had witnessed many secrets being exchanged between you. Perhaps it would be witness and accomplice of your fallout too.

“So you’ve made your choice.”

“Harry...”

His furious eyes bored into yours. “Why the fuck did you bring him?”

“I wanted to,” you confessed. “Mom told me I should and I agreed.”

“We never bring dates tho dinners like these. We promised,” he reminded you.

“He’s not just a date, this is different.”

“I didn’t invite Liz because I keep my promises.”

“You didn’t invite Liz because you didn’t want to.” You hated that he couldn’t own up to his mistakes with her when he loved her so much. “Stop holding a stupid promise I made when I was six against me.”

“You wouldn’t have liked it if I brought her here while you were single.”

“You stopped talking to me the moment you started dating her. I would’ve expected it.”

“So you went and tricked my best friend into a relationship.”

Was that he thought about you? That you manipulated or forced people to be around you?

“Your best friend? You barely talk to him anymore, Harry. And don’t you dare tell me it’s Liz’s fault.”

He ignored your first comment. “Now I will get in trouble with her for not taking her here if she sees pictures.”

“Call her and tell her the truth. Or blame me, I don’t care.”

“It is your fault,” he bitingly said, “you brought him to something special for us.”

“I didn’t even know you’d be here! And honestly, you should be happy for me.”

“I would be if he wasn’t my best friend.”

“Again with that...” You sighed, hoping you could find the right words. “I don’t want to choose, Harry, and it fucking hurts that you from all people are putting me in this situation God knows why.”

“I’ve told you before, it’s because Peter is—“

You interrupted him, “Peter being your best friend doesn’t matter, he’s not going to drop you like you dropped us.”

“I know I dropped you for a while, but Liz needed my attention.”

You didn’t blame him for focusing more on her, or for wanting to spend most of his time with her, but you knew for a fact that Liz made time for her friends; Harry could’ve done the same.

You started tearing up There was the problem, Harry couldn’t make time for you or Peter or Gwen even when he was free.

Harry stammered, but not a single word came out of his mouth after that. It only made you cry harder. Did he not care even a little bit?

“I’ll give you a moment alone,” he finally mumbled.

You walked further down the backyard, cursing yourself for crying and for wearing uncomfortable shoes. You were supposed to look pretty and taller, not to ruin your makeup and walk around furniture and plants.

You sat on the couch before deciding to lay down on your side. You used to do that when you were a kid too. You’d wait for the pool to be ready in that position and you would lay on your back when you wanted your mom to ask if something was wrong.

Right now, you weren’t sure what you wanted. You definitely didn’t want to talk to whoever the approaching steps belonged to.

You still looked up as a figure stood before you.

Peter crouched down and reached over to wipe your tears. The gesture made more tears come out.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, placing a hand on your waist and slipping his other hand to your back to make you sit up. He sat down beside you. “Come here.”

Peter brought you closer, making you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t understand why he’s making me choose between you and him,” you lamented.

“He is?”

Fuck. You had assumed Harry had told him and that was why he was there. “I didn’t know how to tell you...”

Humming, he rubbed your arm up and down. “You can tell him the truth if you want.”

You lifted your head off his shoulder, searching for his eyes. He didn’t seem to mean it in a bad way. You shook your head.

“Are you sure? I can tell him if you want.”

“It would be pointless.”

“I don’t like seeing you cry.”

“We should change the subject then.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just...” Peter pursed his lips, second-guessing his next words. “It pains me to see you upset.”

“Peter,” you pleaded, “don’t do this to me.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You’re making everything more difficult than it already was.”

He slanted his head, taken aback. “Because I care about you?”

“Because I think I’m in love with you.”

Peter blinked rapidly before his eyes started dancing all over your face as though he was waiting for you to say something else.

But you didn’t have much to say anymore. All your cards were on the table. Although you had to admit his lack of response would drive you insane if he continued looking at you like that.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you lied. “I’m okay with being just friends. I just thought you should know.”

“No, no, no.” He shook his head, taking himself out of his self-absorption. “I feel the same, I promise! But... I don’t want to ruin your friendship with Harry.”

“So you’re making me choose too?”

“No. I just don’t want you to regret being in a real relationship with me because you lost your best friend.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“Yeah, you’re right...” Peter looked up at the sky and huffed a laugh.

You mirrored his movement. The sky was clear, allowing you the privilege to gaze at the stars.

“Remember that night I walked you to your place and we stopped in the middle of the street to look at the stars?”

You giggled. You had been on the verge of crying that night after Harry ditched you for Liz if it hadn’t been because Gwen distracted you. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Should I have kissed you that night?”

You weren’t sure, it was hard to know if you would’ve kissed back or not. You wanted to believe you wouldn’t have, but who knew. “Does it matter?”

“No.” Peter twisted his body and cupped your cheek so you’d look at him. You softly smiled at him and he gave you a small kiss. “Not anymore.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x plus size reader #peter parker

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nativehueofresolution · 3 years

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i think it’s so fascinating how mj is someone who is naturally empathetic and easily picks up on the feelings of others, but she is not someone for whom being kind is always easy or automatic. it’s a skill she has to work for, and something she gets better at as she grows. and it’s part of why i love her so much.

(image heavy meta under the cut)

mj in general is uncannily perceptive and finds it second nature to put herself in someone else’s shoes--part of the reason being an actress makes perfect sense for her character. in spectacular spider-man 85, there’s a small gag where mj tells peter he looks troubled, and peter responds “tell me about it”, only for mj to go “okay!” and immediately list off the reasons why he’s upset. peter notes that mary jane “read [him] like a book” (keep in mind at this point they’d been broken up after peter’s failed first proposal and had fallen out of touch, and mj still doesn’t miss a step).

with peter/mj being one of the cornerstone relationships for spider-man, it’s not hard to find moments throughout their time together where mj reads peter in a way no one else can--she’s one of the few people in the world that peter completely opens up to. but i think it’s notable that she still is attuned to peter’s emotions before they become close. she’s there for peter as they grieve over gwen together--most famously in the epilogue for tasm #122, but also in lots of smaller ways. she’s the only one who notices peter struggling to get through school after gwen passes, and she seeks him out when he isolates himself, repeatedly inviting him out of his shell.

(tasm #124)

but we don’t just see her do this with peter; she also steps in to help liz after harry dies, despite the way their relationship fractured once mary jane started suspecting harry was acting as the goblin.

(web of spider-man #101)

she sees past may’s folksy surface and seeming frailty, acknowledging the many difficulties she’s endured and the will of steel she has.

(spectacular spider-man #186)

she uses her class clown routine to help cheer gwen up after her father dies.

notably, she also is the first one to realize gwen has run off after flash gets into a fight, and she volunteers to be the one to go after gwen--admitting that even though it’s unlikely she’ll get through to gwen, she still feels like she has to try. meanwhile peter, the guy gwen was on the verge of marrying, was too caught up in his own feelings to check in with her.

(spider-man: death and destiny #2)

she defends peter and harry for being standoffish after gwen dies and harry overdoses.

(tasm #125)

she has a real sense for when people are hurting or in need, and when you put all of this together, mj starts to sound like a saint. and she is an incredibly compassionate and supportive person! but harry’s above reaction- while cruel and possessive -- isn’t coming out of nowhere. the end of their relationship was pretty terrible. mary jane flirted with peter a lot after gwen left him to go to england, and it clearly made harry feel hurt. there are lots of ways you can interpret her actions--she never considered their relationship to be serious, her feelings for peter were already present, she was trying to give harry a reason to end things between them. x-men/spider-man #1 has gwen suggest it’s a sort a reverse psychology mind trick to keep harry’s attention on her (something peter also suggests in another issue), and mj more or less agrees with her. regardless of her motive, she’s told multiple times that her behavior is hurting harry, and she keeps doing it. his anxiety about their relationship is part of what leads to him to start taking drugs. when she does eventually dump him, mj tells harry he’s “always been good for a few laughs”, but shouldn’t let it go to his head... words clearly designed to sting.

to be absolutely clear, harry had lots of his own issues that had nothing to do with her (including his deep insecurity that could often make him an insecure jerk), and mary jane isn’t responsible for anyone’s actions besides her own. but i do think it’s notable that she was dismissive of harry’s feelings and the fact she was hurting him, even though it’s repeatedly made clear in other issues mj does love harry as a friend; interestingly, she also had similar, though less extreme, behavior with flash when she and peter were dating.

(mj in tasm #97 / mj in tasm #162)

the difference here is that we get more insight into mj’s feelings and mindset, as her character has become more developed. when peter confronts flash about flirting with his girlfriend, he learns mary jane had been hiding the fact she and peter were seeing one another from flash. both of them are upset (peter acts just as petty and jealous as harry did), and mj describes just seeing peter again as “something that took more courage than i thought i had”. but she shows up anyways, and she and peter actually communicate with one another.

(tasm #165)

mj flirting with flash is just a reaction to all the messy and contradictory feelings being that come with being in a relationship, and the specific issues that are present in a relationship with peter. but the fact that she can explain all of this peter shows she’s still pretty in touch with her emotions, and it seems like a part of her suspected all along something like this would happen, as she tells betty in tasm #130 that she doesn’t want to fall in love with peter because she likes him too much. she’d rather keep things simple, even if it damages the relationship.

(also, just to be clear-- mj wants a real relationship. in web of spider-man #6, when she and peter are split up, she bemoans her single life and thinks longingly of what it would be like to be married and start a family. of what it’d be like to be with peter. but she cuts herself from this dreaming, because she says it’s useless to think of something she’ll never be brave enough to pursue.)

another prime example of this ‘being alone is easier’ attitude is how she acts around her sister gayle - whether it be leaving her to do the chores while she danced and played when they were growing up, or refusing to live with gayle after their mom died and running off to aunt anna’s. by the time we get to mj’s backstory, we as readers have started to get inside her head and listen to her inner monologues, so we know at this point that mary jane cares deeply about her loved ones and is acting out of fear and self-preservation because of the trauma she’s been through. but mj is also careful to show none of that to her sister, instead just putting up a “party girl” wall.

(spider-man: parallel lives)

mary jane is, once again, the only one noticing her brother-in-law feels trapped by the news of expecting a child, and it reminds her all the abandonment and forgotten dreams that have caused her family so much pain. in this case, empathizing with timmy - seeing his pain - caused mary jane to rudely brush off her pregnant sister, because she couldn’t handle being vulnerable about her feelings or getting involved in another tense family fight. it’s easier just to keep them at arm’s length.

(spider-man: parallel lives)

yes, mj can read people... but that doesn’t automatically mean she’s going to know how or even want to reach out to them. that’s the emotionally heavy stuff we know terrifies her. she’s just as likely to self-sabotage as she is to reach out to someone if she knows they’re dealing with something serious.

why do i bring this up? because it makes mj a richer, more human character, and it also makes her acts of kindness even more meaningful. it is very hard for mj to let herself become emotionally involved. even when she can read someone is hurting in a situation, she doesn’t automatically become considerate or comforting, even with people she loves.

that’s why her choice in tasm #122 is so outstanding--it’s not what mj wants to do, but she makes the choice to commit to peter and stay there for the hard parts. she chooses to be peter’s friend, she chooses to rekindle their relationship and marry him, she choose to stay with him even when their marriage is harder than she ever imagined. she’s a fierce friend to harry, even after everything that’s happened between them. she welcomes him back to school, she doesn’t give up on him when he’s the goblin, she notices he’s living out of his store when norman cuts him off and makes sure he has a place to go. she becomes so close with may that, after peter’s presumed dead, may calls mj peter’s great gift to her, and the reason she has to keep on living. she helps keep gwen’s memory alive. she chooses the people she loves. the fact that she fails, that she’s scared, doesn’t make her stop trying. she does it over and over again, and that’s what so heroic about her.

(tasm #275)

#mary jane watson #mj watson #petermj #peter x mary jane #spiderman #meta #marvel #kaitlin speaks

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theolsentimes · 3 years

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Mary-Kate Olsen's Singular Style

She came to fame as a twin, but the actress's cultish look is entirely her own. Here, with Lauren Hutton, she pays homage to another fashion inspiration, Grey Gardens. Written by Laura Brown, with photography by Peter Lindbergh (Harper's Bazaar, 2007)

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Mary-Kate Olsen may be the only young actress who breezes into her local Starbucks wearing towering, fashion-fierce Balenciaga boots, who arrives at her latest premiere (in Mary-Kate's case, for the new season of Showtime's Weeds, in which she plays a devout Christian with a pot fetish) sporting an oversize cross, and whose favorite band is Led Zeppelin. She may, in fact, be the only young actress who knows who Led Zeppelin is. MK, as she is known to her friends and family, is also a punctual and professional sort. She arrives for a poolside tea in Los Angeles 10 minutes early, ordering a hot chocolate while explaining her fetish for all things sweet — "I'm a candy girl, like Tootsie Rolls and Swedish Fish" — and objecting when the waiter tries to take the sugar bowl away. She is wearing a nautical striped T-shirt (her mom's, from the '70s), tucked into two black Wolford slips rolled down and turned into a tight, Robert-Palmer-video-style mini, and multicolored sparkly Christian Louboutin stilettos. She's just had her hair colored, returning to a sunnier shade after some experiments with both peroxide ("I woke up one morning and was like, I want white-trash hair today") and the dark side (an auburn-haired near-Goth moment last year). She's carrying a large black fringed leather Prada tote — she doesn't do small bags — and her fingers are covered with rings, most notably two vintage coiled gold snakes stacked on top of each other. ("They remind me of twins, sort of double headed.") Altogether, the effect is less her famed "bag-lady chic" than an edgy, body-conscious, and, yes, sexy silhouette. If she weren't 21, she could be 40. And French.

Few people need reminding that Mary-Kate — with her twin sister, Ashley — literally crawled into celebrity aged nine months (courtesy of Full House) and has not been out of the spotlight ever since. She has been a celebrity for more than two decades. Perhaps that's one reason she seems as if she came out of the womb worldly, the textbook old soul. "Yeah," she says with a small shrug. "I get that a lot." With all of that attention and all of the money (her and Ashley's company, Dualstar, has famously become a "billion-dollar business"), Mary-Kate could easily have ended up the type who wears pink terry cloth and carries a variety of small dogs. "Could you imagine?" she says with the politest version of a snort. "No way." She credits her exceptionally close-knit family (she has five siblings) and, interestingly, early stardom with helping her keep her perspective. "I think it helped that I started in front of the camera, so it didn't come as a shock. If I was a teenager and was thrown into the spotlight, I don't know how I would react, to be honest." Though the tabloids are all too keen to brand her a skinny, nervous deer in the headlights, in person Mary-Kate is easy in her skin, confident and surprisingly tactile, curling up in her seat and touching you on the arm to make a point. She laments the generic style of most actresses and cites only men as style inspirations: "Heath Ledger, Johnny Depp. Men, they just dress the way they want, and they don't think about Who Wore It Best." She doesn't much care for Who Wore It Best, noting she avoids those pages by "wearing vintage so often. I just dress the way I feel instead of looking for what's the new handbag." If Mary-Kate and Ashley have their way, more people will be wearing clothes and carrying bags the way they do. They have just shown the fifth collection of their ready-to-wear line, the Row, and recently launched a contemporary label, Elizabeth and James, named after a sister and a brother. The Row's holiday collection (in stores next month) is a slick mix of skinny leather pants, razor-cut blazers, butter-soft, slouchy tees, and a destined-to-be-cultish pullover fur. Lauren Hutton, who stars in the Row's Spring '08 look book, says, "The clothes are extraordinary. A man I was with just loved them. The pieces are just so genius, soft like a baby's skin. Simple minimalist stuff, but really spectacular." Mary-Kate, designer, faces an interesting challenge. She has to marry Dualstar — which has made its fortune selling tween-tastic DVDs and pastel Mary-Kate and Ashley T-shirts at Wal-Mart — with her increasingly edgy and subversive taste. Dualstar executives, some of whom have worked with her since she was a child, often nag her, mom-style, about pulling her hair back "or wearing a color," she says with a laugh. "I had this event recently, and I was like, They're going to be so happy that I'm wearing ... purple. I actually have to think about those things, though, you know, so I don't get trashed." Get trashed sometimes she does. Hutton says, "Once in a while, she'll wear something and I'll think, Oh, baby doll, take another look. But to have the bravery, to take the chance to do that, is pretty wonderful. She is making her own way, which is hardly ever done in Hollywood." Of Mary-Kate's penchant for gigantic Balenciaga heels, Jenji Kohan, the creator of Weeds, says, laughing, "I'd be like, 'It's Tuesday. Do you really want to be wearing those shoes?' But she pulls it off." Designer Giambattista Valli, a friend, says, "She likes to take risks, but because she has such strong personal style, she always manages to make it work. Even if she had nothing on, she'd have style." And MK chic is spreading. "Sometimes I'll look at people or at a magazine and I'll do a double take because I'm like, Oh, my God, that's my outfit, but that's not me," Mary-Kate says. Playing with her wire-rimmed aviators, she jokes wryly that she should have bought shares in Ray-Ban. (She and Chloë Sevigny pretty much brought back white '80s Wayfarers.) She tends to fall in love with a look, then wear it until she's done. "If I put together a good outfit, I'll wear it for three days and then switch it up with a blazer," she says. "I still love my vintage jeans, my tights, and my pants, though." She didn't start wearing heels, in fact, until a couple of years ago: "I kept watching Ashley walk around in them so gracefully, and I'm such a klutz. But I ended up loving heels, and I don't usually take them off." She wears precisely one pair of flat shoes: Chanel's knee-high patent-leather gladiator sandals. This season, it's Balenciaga's fall collection — all of it — that has Mary-Kate obsessed. She is close to designer Nicolas Ghesquière and says, "He is so talented, but he's the nicest, most down-to-earth guy, and that makes everything he does more brilliant. I bought everything, but I haven't got anything yet," she says like a girl impatiently waiting for Christmas. Will she wear the new pieces with her infamous clodhopper boots? "Uh-huh. Wore them the other day, actually." Mary-Kate always goes with her gut, even if some people (back to those tabloids) don't quite get it. "The tabloids say things about me? What do they say?" she asks archly. "People are going to write what they want, and everyone's going to have their own idea of who I am. But I'm not trying to be friends with the people who are reading them, really." After a rough couple of years filled with near-forensic scrutiny of her weight, she'll have you know that she does eat. "This is not going to sound good," she laughs, "but I like making crispy tofu sticks with peanut sauce. I love my sashimi and my salmon and my vegetables." She observes, "Stress plays a big role in how I look day-to-day. I've always been very active — Pilates, yoga. I grew up horseback riding every day for hours. I love dancing. I usually last longer than anyone on the dance floor." A common image of Mary-Kate has her emerging from a coffee joint with an oversize cup. "I always get creamed for having my Starbucks cup," she says, sighing. "But the only time people get photos of me is when I'm getting coffee, when I can't sneak away from the camera." She also resents the pictorial implication that she and Ashley are dilettantes. "They take photos of us going into our offices, and it's 'Mary-Kate and Ashley shopping again.' But I'm going to work for eight hours, and we're working so hard. ..." She trails off. "It just shows how people want to think of you." Mary-Kate is not above celeb watching herself, however. Newly obsessed with Victoria Beckham, she notes she avidly watched Beckham's Coming to America documentary: "She's running around in a bikini and heels, and I'm like, Oh, my God! I do that, too!" How positively Grey Gardens. "I run around my house naked with heels all the time. It's so funny. All my friends will tell you I love running around in kimonos and jewelry or naked with jewelry." More people will be watching Mary-Kate soon, thanks to her role in the Emmy-nominated Weeds. "I am a very good Christian girl," she says with a wink. "She has her moral beliefs — and she happens to smoke pot." Of her newest cast member, Kohan adds, "Mary-Kate is complicated. She's a big celebrity, a huge media icon, but you have to separate the media images from someone who has the same issues, the same desires, as anyone else." Of course, Mary-Kate's image, in all its incarnations — from high fashion to small screen — is her strongest asset. And she has yet to settle on one. "I feel like I've lived 10 different lives already and I'm only 21," she says, almost as a reminder to herself. "But I also feel like I'm entering a new chapter." One thing on which she is clear, though: She doesn't need to be looked at all the time. What would she do for a day if she were invisible? "I would probably go to a restaurant with my friends, who would be able to see me, of course," she adds pragmatically, "and I would sit outside and enjoy a nice lunch with them. Then I would walk down the street." The old soul takes a sip of her little-girl-sweet hot chocolate. "That's what I would do."

#Mary Kate Olsen #mary kate and ashley #Ashley Olsen #harper's bazaar #magazines #articles #photoshoot

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embrassemoi · 3 years

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Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 19

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors,

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 19: Mrs. Lupin

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

The rest of Valentine’s Day was spent with Y/N compiling a list in her head:

1. Avoid drinking anything the Marauders — actually, avoiding drinking anything around James to dodge their concoction of face and body-altering potions. When students at lunch and dinner drank from the pumpkin juice supply, more than several people who were already in relationships morphed into those they weren’t dating. Let’s just say that this prank wasn’t as uplifting and fun as the Marauders originally had in mind. Even the Bloody Baron told Peeves to spare them.

2. Make sure Lily didn’t drink anything around the Marauders — or anything around Marlene and Mary (who caught word from Peter of her supposed feelings). They were dying to know who caught her attention and bets were being placed.

3. James just wouldn’t shut the fuck up about Emmeline. She could even hear his voice: Whiskers! Did you see how pretty she looks? Woah, I can’t believe she agreed to be my girlfriend? I’m so lucky! She’s beautiful! Ugh — did you see her smile? Emmeline this, Emmeline that — it was even worse than his obsession with Quidditch. But, it was too endearing in a sickening, annoyingly charming way and she was happy that he seemed happy, so Y/N kept her lips sealed.

Remus suggested drowning him in the bottles of love potions littering the castle but Y/N thought differently. James already acted like what a love potion was rumoured to be like; he’d become unstoppable if he even caught a whiff.

4. Shockingly by the end of the day, Y/N’s bag was stuffed with cards and gifts — all filled with confessions. She rarely socialized with anyone but the girls and Marauders, so it came as a surprise.

5. And now found herself stuck in a very uncomfortable situation.

Relaxing in the lounge area by the library, James and Mary were casting spells, Lily and Y/N chatted while Remus aided Marlene, going over course material, however, her face scrunched up as she flicked through his notes.

“What does this mean,” Marlene asked after desperately trying to decipher his writing. She slid it over to him, pointing to a highlighted section. But before Remus could translate, Y/N peeked over.

“Um — Owl to Opera Glasses. This spell emits fleeting wispy white vapour from wand — point at owl — no sound will be produced.”

She sat back in her seat, snapping off a piece of chocolate before handing the rest over to Remus beside her. Everyone looked shocked.

“Erm — what?”

Mary sputtered, “How did you read that? It’s fucking scribble!”

“He’s got doctor writing.”

They waited for her to elaborate.

“My mom’s —” “MUM!” “— writing is horrid. I swear all doctor’s have awful handwriting. I spent so much time reading her medical jornals, scans, charts — to keep me busy. So comparing Remus’ writing to hers, it’s legible.”

None of them seemed to understand besides Lily and Mary. Y/N just dismissed the matter entirely, sliding back the parchment to Marlene as they went back to their quiet conversations.

“So,” Remus leant in, his head craned down to talk to her. “Doctor handwriting — I should flaunt that?”

She chuckled, “Might make you sound smarter, but you don’t need that.”

“You flatter me too much.”

“Humble, aren’t you?”

“I have to bully myself daily. Can’t let it get to my head, not like egomania over there.”

Ah yes, the thrilling saga of bullying James Potter.

But before she could add on, a shadow caught Remus’s eye before he nudged her. His head tilted over to the direction of a wall, littered with portraits and awards with Quidditch trophies. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer.”

A blond boy, young — was staring at her, blushing madly as his chest puffed out, determination trickled through every step as he neared.

Remus’ smile became impossibly large, dripping in amusement before snapping, gaining the table’s attention.

“Hi,” there was a nervous waver in his voice, but confidence in his stance. He was pale, amplifying the scarlet blush on his cheeks.

Damn, she knew what was about to happen and so did shit-eating grin Lupin.

“Hello… What’s your name.” Right, that was a good place to start. Her eyes wandered to his tie: a Ravenclaw.

“Gilderoy Lockhart,” he announced, going up to flick a strand of hair from his face, flashing her a pearly white smile. “I’m in first year.” In his small hands, he outstretched his arms holding a box of chocolates — identical to the one Remus received a few days ago along with a meticulously crafted letter.

“You’reveryprettysowillyoubemyValentine?”

James, Mary and Marlene let out an involuntary snort which had all of them leaning into one another to support themselves from toppling over. Lily had to cast Silencio over them. They turned their heads away from Gilderoy before barking out silent merriment. Remus was the complete opposite, thankfully, as he remained poised, face void but his lips quivered upwards.

“Um… right... well,” she stalled. Maybe she should get up, take the boy elsewhere to softly let him down. “Thank you, I appreciate it a lot. But er… I can’t accept your feelings. Thank you for telling me, though. I appreciate it.”

“What?! Why!” He demanded. His face turned a deeper shade of pink, now causing a scene.

She made eye contact with Lily, however, James’ hand hammered down on the table, startling them all. His two hands formed pointed tips, mimicking two people kissing as he repeated the motion, pointing to her and Remus. Mary took the opportunity to grab Lily’s wrist, flicking a reversal charm on all of them.

“She’s dating Lupin!” She shouted which caught the attention of a few onlookers. James tossed his head back, knuckles in his mouth and Lily’s brow rose high in a startled grimace.

“For a month now!” Marlene continued, her hand slapping down on her thigh.

Y/N was going to murder them.

She went to open her mouth to say — well, okay, she didn’t know what to say but Remus budded in, lifting his arm, wrapping it around her shoulder and pulled her in awkwardly. She instantly got the hint, bringing a hand and patted his chest stiffly while the group tried not to bellow. Even Lily’s facade was beginning to break, her hand shooting up to cover a growing smile.

There was never a boring day at Hogwarts.

But she was taking too long to answer. This would've been quick, easy, had not everyone else been around and especially if they hadn’t lied about her dating.

“I’m sorry but yes, we’ve been together for a little while now, haven’t we, darling?” said Remus, saving her from the hesitation. Y/N nodded, at least she didn’t need to give a reason now.

Remus’ lying was exceptional. There wasn’t even a flicker in his expressions aside from the involuntary dark blush that ran down his cheeks to his neck. Y/N couldn’t blame him, her face felt like it was on fire.

Gilderoy tried to play it off coolly but his shoulders slumped, looking absolutely dispirited. He meekly nodded, placing the box and letter on the table and sped off.

“Cougar L/N!” Marlene roared once he was out of earshot.

“You lot are ruthless!” She barked at them.

“I did nothing!”

“Lied to a poor boy!” Lily lectured sharply.

“And she went along with it!” “Because you —”

While everyone was now bickering or on the verge of tears, Remus peeled himself off of her and Y/N patted him once more.

“You’re welcome.”

She looked up at him, “Darling? Really?”

His eyes rolled, “Did you want me to call you a troll?”

“Got me there, thank you.”

His face softened at this, shoving her in a teasing way before seizing the small box of chocolates, cracking it open and handed her a piece.

“What?” he smirked, moving to open a book, flipping to his worn-out bookmark. He side-eyed her uncomfortable expression as she looked at the box. He recited her words, “Expensive chocolate is still expensive chocolate.”

“You’re a dick.”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

February 17th, 1976

Y/N quickly learned that it was a mistake using the excuse that she and Lupin were dating because now the entire school believed it.

It spread like wildfire. Girls rejected by Remus shot her a hardened gaze, eyes scorned through her robes while other’s who confessed to Y/N avoided her completely. They would all gossip the moment they passed the hallways and she could feel their gaze.

“Lupin beat me to it!”

“— how long have they’ve been —”

“I’ve fancied him for two years! Two years and she suddenly just swoops in?!”

“Honestly, I thought she was with Potter.”

“She’s hot.” “He's fit!”

“— jealous of her —”

“Crikey — don’t they have anything else to talk about?” Remus said, turning away from the hall.

Remus disappeared for the past couple of days, only now hearing the commotion for the first time. He looked fairly pale, eyes red and tired — but not unusual. Y/N shrugged off the rumours and speculations before entering the hall, shouting to him to wait.

Many students stopped their gossiping for a moment to watch her pass before resuming. She marched up to her customary seat, her friends whistling at her.

“Where’s Remus L/N?”

“Mrs. Lupin!”

“Fuck off.”

She shoved snacks into her bag, hoarding enough food for the both of them and managed to grab a giant mug filled with coffee, making her way out of the hall with a few people loitering after her. James forcibly brought Sirius to his feet, Peter leaped over and Lily sprang up from Marlene, cutting her off while looping her arm with Y/N’s.

Mary elected to stay back, engrossed in a chat with Dorcas and Alice before quickly roping Marlene in. Nevertheless, she shouted once she saw the coffee mug, “That’s for Lupin, isn’t it?!”

“Don’t start… it’s just coffee.”

“Black coffee my arse!”

James ran up to her, tugging on her robes lightly, “Does this mean I should swap my Galleons to Lupin?”

Y/N shrugged him off, stomping over to Remus waiting by the door. She handed him the mug, glancing back in hopes of Celeste: no letter from her mother, again. She sighed before hauling the rest of the group to Kettleburn's classroom. This time, empty but always open for students to come and go. Even a sign was plastered on the entrance: Hold a Niffler if feeling down! (BEWARE of theft).

“Sneaking off like this is going to fuel more rumours,” said Lily, settling her things down on the desks beside her.

“Sorry Whiskers — Moony!”

Remus cracked his fingers, a long breathy sigh trickled from him slowly. “We should mitch lessons today — let it cool down for a bit.”

“Mitch?”

“Skip classes —”

“Moony is possibly the worst prefect in Hogwarts History — he deserves a gold star for it,” chuckled Peter.

Sirius grinned and the two made brief eye contact but neither looked away until James’ voice rang out again. It made Y/N's skin go warm.

“Mate’s going for a record.”

Sirius went to scratch the back of his neck, his head turning down to fiddle with his rings out of habit. “Maybe they’ll put him in the next printed copies of

Hogwarts: A History.”

Remus rolled his eyes, fixing his posture to sit straighter. “Ungrateful gits. All I hear are three wannabe detention attendees. You ought to be thanking me. With what you pull, I could easily give you two years worth of ‘em.”

A collective sigh went around from the boys who seemed to bow their heads in mutual respect. They grouped and drawled, “Thank you, Moonyyy!”

Lily turned to her, “I’m sorry, but you’re not skipping.”

Her voice automatically switched at the mention of class; it went strict and firm and eerily sounded like Professor McGonagall which had Y/N double down.

Once the bell rang, Sirius quickly walked up to her, taking the place of Lily.

“Fine, we’ll keep the Puffskein in my dorm.”

She considered him for a moment. “I’ll visit daily.”

“Jolly.”

He sped up, hooking an arm around James’ shoulders as they headed to Potions. Y/N's eyes followed him, unable to look away and her heart dropped.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

“The Draught of Peace is a potion that often comes up on the Ordinary Wizarding Level. As you know from review, it calms anxiety and high levels of agitation. It’s been used to calm students who are too stressed with NEWT exams.

“And today,” Slughorn says, trying to look cheerful but failing — looking far too stiff and forced, “ We'll attempt to brew it.”

Lily sat up bolt-straight, eager to soak in new information. Instead of sitting with Lily today, she took a seat in between Remus and James, Lily with Snape.

“The instructions are up on the board, if you have any questions, ask away. Be warned though; be too heavy-handed — mix too fast and you’ll end up with a potion that would make the consumer fall into an irreversible sleep.

“You will be graded on your progress once finished.” He flicked his wand, opening all of the student’s textbooks to an ingredients page, unlocked the cupboard and turned back, “You have until the end of the class, begin my pupils!”

“Sluggys lookin’ pretty sluggishly today,” whispered Lily as they met briefly while collecting their ingredients.

Slughorn did look a little down. His face and voice were desolate, missing its happy chiper.

“Whiskers, I have everything already, don’t worry about it!” James beckoned.

The potion, in her opinion, wasn’t as hard as she predicted it to be. She was doing quite well, better than Lily and Remus which gave her a small sense of pride.

“So, Prongs, when are we going to get to meet Emmeline?”

James didn’t look up from his fiddly potion, too engaged but there was a small grin on his face. “We’re trying to take it slow —” “Pfft,” interjected Remus, “James Potter and slow — in a relationship? Doubt it. Did your Veela powers run out?”

“Hey! I like her and I don’t want her to run off or feel pressured.”

“Ah, what a gentleman, isn’t he Lupin?”

“Quite.”

James shook his head, “You shouldn’t be talking. Shouldn’t you lovebirds be on a date yoursel — Merlin! Moony don’t do that!”

Remus flicked his wand before a handful of leftover powdered moonstone fell on top of James’ head, giving him an iridescent appearance.

Y/N ignored them, stirring clockwise, then counterclockwise, simmering the heat down to the perfect level for seven minutes, then added in two drops of syrup of hellebore. A shimmery silver mist stemmed from her cauldron. A satisfied smirk settled it’s way on her face before scanning the class. Nobody else, besides Remus and Snape who’d been adding their finishing touches, was done.

Just as James was about to finish his perfectly brewed potion, a small beam was directed at his cauldron, ruining the entire potion as it sputtered multicoloured sparks. He tried to prod at the flames at the base of the cauldron, trying to cool it down but it was already too late. It soon became a thick, muddy concrete mixture.

“What the fuck? You guys saw that, right?!”

They had indeed seen a spell hit his cauldron. Their heads whipped around in search. With only ten minutes left and James’ grades about to drop, they all panicked slightly. If his marks were to drop below a certain level, James would be in jeopardy of losing his Quidditch title as captain and be forced to step down, focusing more on the OWLs.

Remus spotted them first: “It’s Snape.”

“How do you know?”

He didn’t respond, leaving them to follow his line of vision to look. Snape wore a horrible smirk, going as far as to wink at James. His perfectly brewed potion shimmered in the light before whirling around to talk to Lily.

“Fucking Snivellus,” James muttered tensley.

“Alright, in five minutes, I’ll be coming around to look at your potions! Be ready to present them.” Slughorn announced.

Remus sighed. “Prongs, just take mine — I’ll take yours. My grades are high enough but if yours drop —”

“No Moony,” he stated firmly. “I’m not going to let you go down with me.”

Distracted, Snape blushing like a fool to Lily and the boys fighting over Remus’ endeavour at being noble, Y/N swished her wand, levitating Jame’s cauldron and directed it over to Snape. She bewitched a temporary invisibility charm, switching them, before levitating Snape's back to James. Now, in front of James was a flawlessly brewed Draught of Peace.

“James, take my help —” “I said no you wanker!”

Slughorn was making rounds around the classroom, but Snape beckoned him over to his shared table with Lily, confident as he sent a nasty look to them.

“Evans, looking good! Perfectly brewed — I’ll add an extra point on your mark.” The praise did not go unnoticed as her chest puffed with pride, her head turning and locked eyes with Y/N, a large smile on her face.

Nice! Y/N mouthed, a thumb sticking upwards.

“Now lets — Severus!” exclaimed Slughorn, flashes of surprise shot through him, “What happened? This is so unlike you.”

The Slytherins in the class all looked up — scratch that — everyone in the class snapped their heads towards him; Snape had never once messed up a potion. They watched as Snape’s face fell from his smug smirk as a black stemming, multicoloured, cloud of smoke puffed in the air, making the surrounding students cough.

“Sir — I swear it was fine moments ago, I don’t know what happened! It must’ve —”

Their professor sighed, a very disappointed look crossed his face before shaking his head.

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Snape. Accidents happen. Evanesco.”

The contents, including the puff of smoke, vanished, leaving Snape to gape around. Lily touched his shoulder, rubbing her hand up and down and began murmuring into his ear.

But before Slughorn could go to another group, Y/N raised her hand, flagging him down while the rest of the class was still paying attention. “Professor! We would like for you to clear us, please!”

“Whiskers, what are you doing?”

“Trust me.”

“Look at what she did with your cauldron,” Remus mumbled, his eyes darting to her.

Complete surprise and utter awe replaced his face as Slughorn let out an excited squeal. His hands clapped together. “Everyone should take a page from Potter, L/N and Lupin. I’ve never seen such great work for this potion! Amazing you three! Ten points for Gryffindor.”

Their heads whipped towards her, Remus just smiled while James stared wide-eyed.

“You love to underestimate me.”

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imaginesmai · 3 years

Text

With all my heart (IRONDAD) - Chapter 1

Hey there! I’m back with a full fic! ❤💕💕💕 This is an irondad/bambi/The game plan AU! It’s finished, so it will have two updates every week, or more (if you guys like it a lot!) Make sure to follow me on instagram:@ irondadiscanon to know when I update, more irondad content and fic recs!

SUMMARY: Tony Stark isn't the best dad - distant, cold, almost neglectful. But when his ex-wife dies, he has to take care of his son; 5-year-old Peter, a boy with too many allergies and that can't talk to Tony without stuttering. Follow the path of two hurt people, a man and a boy, who learn how to love each other through thick and thin.-A Bambi AU (Disney) that @buckets_of_stars inspired me into writting that I've mixed with The Game Plan.

AO3 link

Tony has a tight smile on during the funeral. He knows he has no right being there, that most of the people around him, even if they are strangers for Tony, were closer to Mary than him. He shifts uncomfortable in his black suit, fighting the hangover from last night. On his right, Mary’s sister is crying her eyes out, looking at the coffin as its lowered on the ground. From what he has heard, the man besides May is Ben, his husband, and both of them have made a long journey to come to the funeral. It makes him feel bad, because Tony was the one arriving late and he lives barely thirty minutes away.

But the news hit him hard.

For six years, he has been doing just fine. He gets drunk, sleeps around with anyone that catches his eye, bosses around and goes to sleep really, really late. It’s not something to take pride of, but Tony likes his life – now, his past life. There is another thing that has been a constant for the last five years and a half; monthly cheques to his ex-girlfriend account. Since he lost any type of right over his son. Five and half years ago.

Now, Mary is lying eight foot deep in a coffin. He received a call yesterday, and found comfort in his liquor cabinet. He shouldn’t have, he’s sure of it, because he knows that there has to be new changes on his life from now on; but he still kept a small place of his heart for the brunette girl with big, doe eyes that had a contagious laugh. Tony tightens the grip on his left wrist, trying to control the shaking of his hands.

When that doesn’t work, he tries next looking at the small figure gripping May’s legs, close to Tony. It’s not the first time Tony has seen Peter Parker, because once or twice every two months, he gets to spend a weekend with his son. He has a room on the tower, as dull as a white paper, and Tony is listed as his second emergency contact. It doesn’t matter how much he tries to distance himself from Howard. Most of the times the kid is with him, Tony is reminded of the lost chance of raising him. Peter sees him as a stranger, and Tony drinks.

Peter sniffles softly, and May runs a careful hand through his curls. Taking after Tony, he’s short and skinny. The father doesn’t know much about him – that he likes science, is asthmatic and has a list of allergies, dyslexic, and his favourite colour is blue and red. Mary made sure to keep him away from Tony, and she wasn’t wrong. Because Tony is the worst influence the kid can have.

It doesn’t matter, though, because May and Ben are both active workers that are barely home, and Peter doesn’t have any other family left.

“Tony”

He turns around, and shamefully discovers that almost everyone is gone now. Only May, the priest and Peter remain. The last one is still hiding between May’s legs, hiccupping every now and then. Tony blinks and coughs the awkwardness; he tries to clear the wetness around his eyes, and thanks himself for getting dark glasses before leaving that morning. May, always the kind woman, gives him a soft smile, and squeezes his forearm gently. His husband doesn’t like Tony that much, but it seems that May sees something not even Tony himself can see.

“We have to arrange some things. Custody papers and legal documents” she says.

“Yes. I’ll – My driver is just there. He will take us to the notary. He has enough space for all of us. And don’t worry, Happy is discrete. He won’t – “

“Ben and I can take care of it just fine” May interrupts him. He pushes Peter forward, but the boy doesn’t look up. “Peter hasn’t slept much, and he hasn’t eaten since yesterday. I thought that, maybe, you could take him home and rest a little. It’s been hard for everyone.”

“Happy can take him”

“Peter needs his father”

It’s her stern voice. He has only heard it twice; once, when Peter was born and he was late for the birth, and Mary decided she didn’t even want him to meet his son. May had used her stern voice on her and Tony had held Peter close, as the boy latched on his little finger. The second time was directed at him. He was ready to give up the custody of Peter, he didn’t want to go to the trial; and thanks to May, who dragged him out of his ear, he got to see Peter every two months. Even if he hadn’t known how to do it right.

Peter looks up at Tony, and the man notices the tears still falling from his eyes. He has the same look he always carries around Tony; as if he wasn’t his father, just an authoritative stranger that he had to respect.

“I think a nap will do you some good” Tony lowers his voice, and tries to give Peter a reassuring smile. “Did you pack your bag already?”

“No” he answers in a small voice. “Uncle Ben said I c-could do it later”

“We can bring it later. Maybe have a last dinner together before we leave?” May suggests, and Peter nods vigorously. “We have to leave tomorrow morning. But we are only a few hours away. If he gets sick or needs anything, we’ll be here as soon as possible. And that goes for you too Tony. You can call me anytime you want”

“I think we’re gonna be just fine. Right, Peter?”

Tony holds his fist so that Peter can bump it, but the kid just stares at it. Possibly, it’s not the best place to do something like that. Reluctantly, he lowers his fist. He remembers the first time Peter was brought to him as a conscious human being, not a baby. Mary had been on a trip with him for three months, and Tony got to stay with Peter for a week – and in that moment, when Peter didn’t call Tony daddy but ‘Mr Tony’, Tony realized that Peter didn’t see him as a father. As a dad.

It hurts him that he hasn’t known how to be there for his son. Some of the dates Mary and him set for Peter to stay with Tony were spent poorly; Tony out drinking and Peter with Pepper or with a nanny. Tony missed some of them because he liked to party, and the man wasn’t there when the kid had his first asthma attack and ended up in hospital. He wasn’t even there for Peter’s fourth birthday, because he was lost somewhere in Monaco drinking expensive liquors and losing consciousness.

Selfishly, he thinks that this is his chance to make things right. Peter has to stay with him, because there is no chance that he lets the boy in the system, and staying with his aunt is impossible. So, he tries to bury his hurt and keeps the kind smile on.

“Give me a call when you’re finished” he tells May, who nods. The woman kneels in front of Peter, and cradles his cheek.

“We can come whenever you need us. Ask Tony to call us or use the phone mom got you, it’s in the bottom of your bag. You remember Ben’s number?” May asks. Peter doesn’t answer. “Come here, give me a big hug”

Peter launches himself to his aunt’s arms, letting out a chocked sob. May hugs him tight and lets him cry on her shoulder. As most of the times he’s with his son, Tony feels misplaced. Like he’s watching a show he’s not a part of – like it isn’t his family. It’s not, his mind supplies. They break the hug before Tony can dwell on the thought for too long. If someone expected Peter to hug his father next, they get a huge disappointment. Peter moves to stand close to Tony, and quickly dries his tears so Tony doesn’t notice them.

“No peanuts, walnuts, cashews or hazels. That goes for Nutella or other chocolate sweet that could have hazels” May remembers him, although Tony has JARVIS programmed to keep up with Peter’s allergies. “There are epinephrine injections in his bag, with the instructions. He has to take his vitamins every morning. After breakfast”

“And I have to be careful with lobsters and oysters, because they upset his stomach”

“You have to cut the crust off the sandwiches, and Peter doesn’t like cheese sandwiches. But make sure to put extra cheese on his pizza”

“He also likes mac and cheese, I know” Tony says with a bit of annoyance. “He’s my son. I know him better than what you think”

“You better take care of him, because I don’t care how much money you have or how important your last name is” May takes a threatening step forward. “If I have to drag your sorry Stark ass to court, I will. Without blinking once”

Tony briefly remembers the conversation he has had with May before the funeral. Mary said it in her will, Ben and May knew they would have to change their life style if Peter came to life with them, and Tony was the most capable person, in materials and financial terms, to take care of Peter. But still, she had offered to take him. And Ben had threatened Tony. The man hopes he can live to everyone’s expectations.

He reaches a hand and brings Peter closer. In a soft whisper that only comes out every now and then when he’s with his son, he tells him to go and wait in the car. Peter gives a quiet ‘yes sir’ and hugs May one last time. Tony doesn’t miss the glassy eyes May gets when Peter wraps his skinny arms around her waist and squeezes her tight. He has never received a hug from Peter.

Not like he feels worthy of them.

Peter waves at her and drags his feet to the car. The boy likes Happy, or at least he likes him as much as he can like someone from Tony’s life – he gives the man some rare smiles and actually answers to his questions. He watches as Peter disappear inside the car, and closes the door behind him. Then, he turns to May.

“You can’t say those things in front of Peter” he argues. “He’s gonna think I’m some kind of monster that it’s gonna eat him at night”

“He already thinks that. Why do you think he wanted to spend the night with us in the hotel instead of going with you? Peter is afraid. The only memories he has with his father are you sitting on a couch drinking, hiding in the lab or giving him away to nannies” May points a shaky finger at him. “He spent the whole night crying and sobbing, but when he comes here, he tries to hide it so you don’t see him. Trust me when I say he knows where he’s going”

“And what am I supposed to do? If he hates me so much, then maybe you should take him!”

There is a second of silence in the lonely cemetery.

“Peter doesn’t hate you, Tony. He thinks you don’t want him” she says sadly, and Tony thinks he preferred the idea of Peter hating him. “All he knows is a cold man with a hard face, that didn’t make an effort to love him when he went to see you”

“I really don’t know how to fix that, May” he admits. He realises his own eyes are getting misty behind the glasses, but he doesn’t feel strong enough to wipe them. He only wants to go back home and lock himself in the lab with a bottle of whisky, maybe two.

“You and I both know you love him. You did things wrong, but so did Mary. So just – show him you love him, now. Consider this your chance to be a father to Peter, a real father”

May surprises Tony by dragging him into her arms, and he goes rigid. He doesn’t like behind handed things, he doesn’t like shaking people’s hands, he doesn’t like touching anyone and doesn’t like being touched unless it’s Pepper. He has ignored Rhodey’s calls and Happy attempt to comfort him, because he knew that no matter how much he hated physical touch, he would break down.

So, Tony breaks down in sobs, and hugs May Parker back. The woman is tall but skinny, yet is almost as strong as Tony. It’s the touch he needs, because it manages to keep him together. Tony thinks of Mary, of how beautiful everything was before he fucked up and she left, pregnant without knowing. He thinks of her sweet smile and dimples, of her brown curls that fell loose on her back. And he sees her in the boy in the car, in the way he pretends to be collected but wears his heart on his sleeve.

A raindrop hit him on the nose, and when he looks up, he’s met with another on his left glass. He tears away from May who doesn’t bother wiping the tears away from her cheeks. They share a short nod and a few words, then Tony walks towards the car. He tries to make the small distance to it as long as possible, because he doesn’t want to meet the doe, bambi eyes that will stare at him in the car.

Because Peter does that a lot – staring at Tony. Not talking, not smiling. Staring at Tony as if he’s looking for something that he doesn’t have. That’s part of the reason why he avoids the boy so much, because if he can’t be what Peter needs, then what good can he make?

Apparently, he’s about to find out.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

#peter parker #Irondad and Spiderson #irondad fic #irondad #irondad imagine #spiderson and irondad #iron dad #iron dad imagine #iron dad fic #iron dad series #tony stark #tom holland #rdj #Avengers

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years

Text

Don’t miss the Yule Ball.

Sirius finally opens up to James Potter, and he realizes a lot of things. He has decided he will go the yule ball, but the question is: with whom?

Tags: Post-Incident with Severus Snape, Angst with Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Trust Issues.

Chapter 3

Sirius kept chewing his first bite for a little longer than he was supposed to, because Remus had left the Great Hall looking apprehensive, and gruesome. He sighed through his breakfast, waiting for the day to get by. He was pushing down all the unnecessary thoughts and emotions because he didn’t want to expect anything from anyone, especially how the last night had turned out.

He had woken up with a better feeling—if he had to be honest with himself—because Remus had finally not just smiled at him but hugged him with genuine earnest and he had held him until Sirius was done crying. The memory was painfully sweet in his head. Nevertheless, he was slightly hopeful than yesterday. Remus had always tried to bring the best out of him. The tug of war in his brain about his friendship and relationship with Remus was easing out in his mind, while also clenching his heart. He took another bite of his porridge, and thought that he should stop worrying about normalcy. He realized that wanting normal with this desperation was going to make him fall in the pits of agitation. He was not able to deal with another heartache. For once, he wanted to give his heart a break.

He gulped down his bite, and he decided he was going to the same with his desires and dreams. He was going to be grateful of the things he had in life; Good friends, miles away from his abusive parents, good education, and especially, his magic. He was himself because he knew how to kindle fire by the swipe of his fingers, he could wave his wand and conjure blue stardust while walking alone in the forest, and he could conjure a patronus to keep the sadness away for a while.

His thinking cycle came to a halt when James and Peter rushed to the hall, and haphazardly began swallowing their breakfast. Sirius was so captured seeing them not uttering a word and gulping down their teas and milk in one breath.

“Merlin, Pads—could have told us—“ James was managing to breathe while munching his toasts, debauching all the manners and etiquettes of eating by spraying the breadcrumbs everywhere on the table.

“Wow, Prongs, you really know how to eat.” Sirius laughed amusingly. Both of the Marauders glared at him. And once they were done, James said that they were already five minutes late for Transfiguration. This time Sirius didn’t think of manners at all, and stumbled out his seat as the three of them raced to the classroom. The air whooshed through them as they pushed through the crowd of students and teachers who shouted things like ‘Hey! Watch it!’ and ‘5 points from Gryffindor!’

The air smelled of nostalgia as Sirius felt the adrenaline in his blood and giddiness in his stomach. The three of them were running like they used to when Filch would catch them and they would hide in the broom cupboards for hours until the course were clear, and then they would laugh like maniacs. It felt all the same to Sirius when they reached the classroom, and he was getting breathless in the most satisfying way. The doors opened, stealing everyone’s attention. Mcgonacall had her usual glare, and Sirius spotted Remus sitting with Lily, his face looked scarlet which made Sirius feel the same heating flush beneath his cheeks and neck.

“Mr Potter, Mr Black and Mr Pettigrew, why is it always you three to be late in my class?” There was something different about Mcgonacall as her gaze is fixed at Sirius. He could swore that there was a hint of smile playing on her lips. She ordered them to take seats, and Peter sat with Mary while James with Sirius. The both of them had to keep hands on their mouths to suppress the bubbling laughter. James gave him a playful nudge, his eyes were whispering something meaningful, and Sirius felt a gush of affection for him.

The day went by with Double Transfiguration with the Slytherins, Charms with Ravenclaws, and Double History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs. James and Sirius were walking to the common room to put their books and notes and then return to the dinner with the rest of Marauders.

“So, Padfoot…” James smirked at him, “I have an unbelievable news to share with you.”

“Have you finally learn not to make a fool of yourself?” Sirius got a harsh fling of James’ arm around his shoulder that he staggered in his pace, almost collapsing on the floor but James held him firmly.

“Hey, hey, hey,” James’ voice was soaked with concern, “You okay? I’m sorry I didn’t know I was that harsh.”

“No, it was not harsh.” Sirius managed to say but the other didn’t seem convinced. He was getting some serious brain-fogs from the past few days, and he hadn’t told anyone yet, not even Madam Pomfrey.

“Then what was that, Sirius? What is going on? Are you not well?” Those were so many questions for Sirius to answer. He didn’t want to disrupt his day which was finally going better for the first time in forever. However with James’ big hazel eyes were staring at him like that as if they were saying hundreds of things to him he felt the urge to tell him everything—by everything meant everything.

And then they didn’t return for dinner, they were in their dorm alone with no interruption. Sirius told him how frequently he had been experiencing panic attacks, and how much tired he felt, like always, how he felt like his bones were feeble, and his muscles were aching, how he was also experiencing constant brain-fogs. And then, he also told him how he was dealing with emotional pain the most, how constantly he was thinking and trying to commit act of self-harm, and how much he was thinking how he had let the Marauders down. James listened him very carefully with full attention, nodded in the right places and shushed him when Sirius talked about how much he missed Remus. He was struggling to get louder because his voice was not cooperating with him. He was gushing out all of the emotions which were buried in the depths of him. He cried at some parts but he was calm because James’ hand was there squeezing his arm, and rubbing his back. When they were done, they fell into comfortable silence, and Sirius felt as light as a feather.

“So what was the good news?” Sirius said to break the silence.

“Uh…” James smiled weakly at him, “I asked Evans to go with to the ball as my date and she said yes.”

Sirius smiled at him genuinely, “I’m happy for you, Prongs.” He hit him with a playful punch but James didn’t respond too much. He looked sad, and it was awkward. Sirius never wanted that. They fell into another round of silence before he felt two arms wrapped from his behind, tugging there. Sirius put his hands on James’, sitting under the cloud of melancholy.

“I’m sorry, Padfoot. You were keeping a lot inside of you. I don’t like when you do that.” Sirius smiled warmly at his mildly aggressive voice, “I am your brother, and you are supposed to tell me that. And all of that. Everything, buddy. I love you, you know that right?”

“There is no reason to be a sap, Potter.” Sirius elbowed him, “But yeah, and I love you, too. Always have and always will.”

“Look, who’s a bigger sap now.”

“Okay, Evans said yes—“ Sirius pulled away to face him, but he was cut off by James in mid-sentence.

“For the ball. I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

James didn’t smile. There was still something despondent about him. After a brief silence, he said, “Pads, this may sound a little weird but hear me out…” Sirius nodded, “You should ask Moony for tomorrow.”

“Oh no, no, no, no,”

“Why!?” James whined.

“’Why’? What do you mean ‘why’? Out of all people, you should not be the one to say that.”

“No, Padfoot, I should be the person to say that! You told me how he encouraged to go to the ball. I mean, why would he? Either he is trying to be your mom and asking you to have fun or he is giving signals for you to ask him to be your date for the ball!”

“Considering Remus, he was definitely being a mother-hen.”

“Think about it, Moony doesn’t easily like someone. He never dated anyone except you because you are the one he fell in love with, you tosser!

That’s when the door swung open, revealing Remus and Peter which confused looks. Sirius felt like his heart was in his throat.

“Thought we’d find you guys here.” Peter said, throwing his satchel on his bed, “Why did you miss dinner?”

“Oh, we completely lost track of time.” Sirius said successfully because the room had started to feel small with Remus’ presence, “We should go to the kitchen, Prongs.” He was hoping he could just skip the anxiety and continue his chance of talking out with James more. He was talking after ages, and it felt lighter and easy. Suddenly, he was very grateful for having James Potter in his life.

“Oh, you know what, you stay here. Wormy and I will bring food for you.” James piped up with his stupid grin, and Sirius began to have second thoughts on being grateful of James.

“What!?” Peter retorted, “But I just came back!”

“And you could come back again, my best friend Wormy!” Sirius scowled at James who in returned gave him a thumbs-up, gesturing to talk to Remus who was putting down his books in on his nightstand. Soon, the whiny Peter and an overly-smart James were out of the dorm, leaving him and Remus alone.

Sirius was fidgeting with his fingers anxiously, gazing at Remus’ back.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Sirius thought he was completely frozen. Remus turned to face him, smiling small at him.

“Yeah…” Sirius let out a breathless chuckle, “I was just…”

Awkward silence.

“Remus, I wanted to ask you something and if you don’t think the same way, I would completely understand.” His heart was hammering in his chest. Remus nodded at him. He took a deep breath and finally the words were out, “Will you go to the ball with me as my date?”

Extremely awkward silence. Remus was opening and closing his mouth to say something but no words were audible enough as an answer to Sirius. That’s because he doesn’t have any answer, Sirius thought to himself.

“Sirius…” Remus finally said, “I can’t.”

It wasn’t like Sirius wasn’t expecting this, but it still hurt him like a dagger shot right into his heart.

“I mean…” Remus continued, scratching the back on his head or pulling his sleeve, “it’s not like I don’t want to, because I do…A lot, actually…”

His voice was turning croaky, and Sirius was able to see that it was not easy for Remus either.

“But, I already have a date.” This time it hurt more than earlier. Sirius wanted to laugh, and he did. Remus froze, looking dumbfounded. It was a strange thing that hurting not always accompany the act of shedding tears. Sirius was actually laughing at himself that he was a fool to believe, like actually believe.

“Of course, of course,” Sirius wiped the tears in the corner of his eyes, “Of course, you have a date. How can you not?” He was shaking his head, still unable to control his laugh. It was a very wrong judgment.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 4 coming soon!

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

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Let’s Review || Chapter 22

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat additional warnings: open the read more, CTRL + F and search “content warnings” to skip to the additional "spoiler-y" tags for trigger warnings

hey guys! i made a ko-fi! if you enjoy this and have some cash you could spare to help me out with my bills, id really appreciate it! if you follow the link and check out the ‘posts’, there’s a snippet for ch. 4 of posies!

Their parents had died a few months after her thirteenth birthday and Penny essentially blacked out for the next 8 months. She didn’t remember anything from that school year, although she’d evidently scraped by in all of her classes—actually, Penny was still convinced that little Peter, who was already showing signs of being a tiny genius, had done at least half of her homework. She didn’t remember Hanukkah that year, or the first Christmas she’d ever celebrated with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. She had zero friends coming out of that year, having accidentally pushed everyone away in fits of rage or sadness that she couldn’t even remember. The pain cut just as deep every time she remembered showing up to school the first day of her freshman year only to receive the cold shoulder from half her grade.

That was actually one of the first memories she’d retained after coming out of 7 months and 3 weeks of complete emptiness, how none of her best friends wanted anything to do with her. Everything had been confusing, somehow devastating all over again but… it was less. Her parents were gone and it hurt so much but it was nothing compared to the agony that had beset her form seconds after being informed her mom and dad were dead. When Penny racked her brain she could almost remember Aunt May crouched in front of her while she sat on the couch at home, holding her hands.

Somewhere in her brain, Penny had known that plane crashes were possible. Like, as a concept she understood the idea. The plane that was flying through the air stops doing that, and all the people inside the plane die. But it couldn’t possibly happen to her parents—they were her parents, they were infallible. Plane crashes happened, yeah, but her parents couldn’t be gone. Aunt May had told her several years later that she and Ben had been petrified she would try to kill herself, especially when the state tried to take the young girl away from the Parker’s.

They’d never had the money for therapy and Penny figured she’d never regain the memories from those months but honestly, she didn’t want them. The gaps were reprieves, the missing conversations, the absence of any and all detail. Wasn’t she sad to not remember her eighth-grade graduation? Fuck no, it was a blessing to forget how she’d felt like everyone in existence had their eyes on her—except for the ones she wanted.

There were times she absently wondered how disappointed her parents would be that she didn’t finish college, let alone get an actual high school degree. Her dad had been so smart, a genius in his own right. And her mom… Penny tried not to think of her mom often, not when it hurt so deeply. Mary Parker had been a gentle soul with an IQ of 150 who made Penny feel safe and loved and understood every day of her life. Her mother would’ve been understanding, she would’ve seen the necessity in her dropping out but it would’ve hurt that gentle soul to know the opportunities her baby had missed.

It hurt Penny in a special way that neither of Mary and Richard Parker’s children would be graduating from high school. Neither would attend university. They wouldn’t go on to press the limits of their parent’s knowledge or make an impact on the world. Somehow despite everything she’d sacrificed, Peter would never get the opportunity that he deserved. Her genius baby brother, his potential capped before he had a chance to try. God, it was an agonizing burn in her chest, a searing pain that made her nauseous and light-headed.

Her heart was pounding so hard she wondered if her ribs would crack. The cabin was lovely. Dark wood and an A-frame, a nice deck in the back and lots of windows. It was surrounded by trees, with dark needles or thin pale trunks, the purple mountains of the Rockies a lovely backdrop. It was colder than she’d expect for summer, especially considering the overcast sky and the breeze. The clouds moved so fast at such a high altitude and Penny watched trembling as a shadow passed over the house, chasing the light away before the sun followed its path ravenously once more.

Steve and Bucky were unloading suitcases from the back of the SUV, passing each other calculating looks as Penny stood practically frozen in place. Her shoulders were hunched almost to her ears, arms wrapped gently but tightly around the white kitten in her arms. It was purring quietly, the same way it had been for hours now. The little thing had cried the first few hours after they’d left the tower and subsequently the chubby cheeked orange kitten behind, only settling when Penny laid down across the middle seat in the SUV and let it burrow into the crook of her neck.

If Penny turned around she would’ve recognized the mournful looks on their faces, the pain in the lines of their eyes. The soldiers knew the hurt she felt, to be separated from their most important person—they understood that Peter was the most important person in Penny’s world. This separation was on their heads, but what could they do? They’d worked themselves into a rut, the three of them, wearing such deep treads into their negative behaviors that they couldn’t climb out. A complete shakeup was the only solution.

Both winced when she abruptly folded at the waist, clutching the kitten to her chest, and vomited over the pine needle strewn dirt of the driveway. Her hair fell in heavy, curly curtains around her face as she heaved again, hiding her tear-streaked face from the soldiers’ view. The sound of them setting the bags they held down registered in Penny’s ears but she couldn’t find the strength to collect herself before they converged on her.

“Come ‘ere doll, lemme take you up to the bathroom,” Bucky stated quietly, sweeping her and the cat up into his arms as gently as he could, “you can take a bath while me and Steve get everything unloaded. I think you’ll really like the cabin baby, we… well, we designed it just for you. If there’s anything you want to change, you just tell us. We want it to be perfect for you.”

She mostly caught flashes of green and white and brown, tucking her chin to look at the kitten snuggled into her cleavage. It felt cruel, to have taken the white one and left the orange, but the little chubby-cheeked kitten had taken to her brother so well—better than it had taken to her, even. Peter had named it Malcah and while it still didn’t like being picked up or held, it twined his ankles and meowed at him for love.

“Sit here baby,” the soldier set her carefully on the lid of the toilet, after having climbed a set of stairs and turned multiple blurry corners, “let me run your bath.”

It was all white tile, the toilet built into the wall. The tub was a freestanding clawfoot, with a spray nozzle and high sides. It was surprisingly small, considering how large the tub in the tower had been. Penny idly speculated that only perhaps one of the soldiers would be able to fit at time and it would certainly be a tight squeeze if she was forced in with them. There was a standing shower on the other side, where the roof wasn’t so sharply sloped by the A-framed roof. The nice thing, that Penny would never admit was very nice, was all of the plants. The entire room was predominantly white but there was a long-vined philodendron hanging gracefully over the tub, snake plants sitting on the shelf before the toilet. She could see a rubber plant and another type of vine by the sinks, framing the mirror.

They’d obviously gone to great lengths to make sure it would be something she liked, clearly evidenced by the bathroom alone. There were even candles waiting to be used on the antique, hunter green shelves and bath bombs with lovely scents. If she’d been able to design a personal bathroom, Penny figured it would probably have looked something like this and that made her hate it all the more.

The bastards were so in their heads they could barely see the sunlight. Penny was convinced that they were so distracted orchestrating her nightmare they’d lost the plot. They kept throwing stuff at her; beautiful plants, nice clothing, cute cats, lovely homes—but it didn’t mean a single thing. All of the possessions in the world didn’t make up for the gaping, rotting hole in her chest.

“Alright doll, let’s get you undressed,” Bucky shifted towards her once the water was at the right temperature and filling the tub, a small smile on his stubbled face.

“Do you think I’m debilitated?” She rasped after a moment, rolling her eyes up to stare him in the face before spitting a vomit speckled wad of phlegm onto the rug by her feet and setting the kitten on the shelf next to the snake plants. “Last time I checked I didn’t need to be treated like a baby. Are you gonna keep standing over me like a pervert? Get out.”

The soldier’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, surprised by the calmness behind her cutting tongue. Usually, when Penny got an attitude, it came with fury and fists and resulted in broken bones or bleeding wounds. This was overwhelmingly controlled; a bitchy rebuttal. Her voice was the gravelly tone she usually got after screaming or crying, dark brown eyes nearly black. When he didn’t move, Penny rolled her eyes and stood, whipping her t-shirt over her head and dropping it to the ground.

“You’re bein’ a little moody, babe,” Bucky watched calmly as she undressed, her clothes piling up on the floor. “Wanna think about reigning it in?”

Penny’s hair was big and curly around her face, framing the clenched jaw and sneering nose. “What are you gonna do, kill me? Whatever.”

“Penny, what—”

“Peter is a thousand miles away,” Penny’s voice started out sharp but very quickly faded into a tired drawl, “you can’t hurt him from here. And what do I care if you hurt me? So could you either get the fuck out and let me take a bath or fucking drown me in it? Whatever it takes for this interaction to be over.”

“Are you looking for a punishment right now?” Bucky’s lips pulled down at the corners, eyebrows furrowing, “‘Cause you’re working your way towards one really quick.”

“What’re you gonna do? Kill someone in front of me?” She groaned, reaching up to dig her fingers into the roots of her hair, tugging sharply before dragging it into a tangled, thoughtless bun on the top of her head “Or spank me until I can’t sit? Rape me? Could you just get it over with? I want to be alone, please!”

Bucky was silent for several long seconds before sighing through his nose, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. “Take your bath, think about your fuckin’ attitude. Steve and I are gonna bring the bags in.”

He left the door open and Penny was further irritated to learn he had too much dignity to stomp down the stairs the way she’d hoped he would. His break in composure had been so good for her it was unbelievable—but there was likely a punishment on the horizon and Steve wasn’t likely to let her off easy once the brunet told him what she’d said. The bastard was stone cold when it came to that shit.

She stared idly at the steaming bath, naked with her clothes piled around her feet—the question was whether she wanted a bath or if she’d been resigned to it? The water was scented, because of course it was. It was even one of her favorite citrusy scents, she noted disdainfully, another thing they had paid so much attention to while keeping her locked up in a tower like fucking Rapunzel. Now in a cabin, she figured she was a Jewish Goldilocks surrounded by hungry bears.

But it smelled nice and her body ached from the long car ride, it had already been run so why not hop in? Besides, it would keep her busy while the soldier’s fucked around and she wouldn’t have to see them for a bit. They were shuffling around and she could hear the sounds of bags being placed around the cabin. The door banged off the walls several times, always accompanied by a groan or a curse, one of which she recognized as a Yiddish swear—which she refused to find endearing. The kitten meowed at her from its position on the shelf, looking put out to be so far away but Penny shushed it quietly.

“You won’t like the water, just stay there,” she murmured quietly at the distraught little creature, picking up a washcloth and dunking it into the perfumed water. “If I come get you I’ll make a huge mess.”

She ignored the kitten as it continued to communicate with her, chittering in annoyance and pawing the edge of the ledge for several minutes before evidently surrendering and lying down with its little paws draped over the edge. Penny smiled to herself, the cat’s tail was roughly the size of its body and when it curled the fluffy mass of fur around itself it became unrecognizable as a cat. The orange one would’ve continued to complain until Penny let it down, would’ve just barely given her ankles a rub before running off to hide somewhere.

That’s why she decided to leave Malcah with Peter; the orange cat didn’t run from or scratch him. She twined his ankles, sat next to his thigh on the couch, kneaded her little paws against him. Peter had decided both kittens were female, based on the very reasonable basis that he wanted them to be. Penny wasn’t sure, didn’t quite care. The only thing she ever referred to the cats as was Chatul—which literally meant cat in Hebrew. She’d shortened it to Tuly for the white kitten, for the sake of ease, but refused to say it in front of the soldiers. The cat was hers, she didn’t have to share it with them.

The sounds of the soldiers were becoming more consistent throughout the cabin and Penny figured they must’ve brought in all of the bags and were focused on unpacking. She could hear someone down in the kitchen, unloading the masses of groceries they’d brought up the mountain while the other was in the bedroom. Penny rubbed the washcloth over her skin lightly, the oils from the fragrance making her skin soft and slippery.

She didn’t hear him come in, she felt Steve come in. The blond’s presence was just as overwhelming as Tony Stark’s, an aura bigger than his body that filled the room. She could feel the disappointed stare, even as she continued to wipe herself down with the washcloth. Her teeth ground together as he watched in silence, just waiting.

“Bucky said you’ve caught an attitude, baby doll.”

“Caught an attitude?” She rolled her eyes. “Wow, if only I hadn’t become desensitized to living in constant terror—you never would’ve realized I’ve had an attitude the whole time!”

“We’re supposed to be turning a new page, Pen.”

“Turning a—” Penny scoffed, face appalled as she abruptly stood from the bath and ignored the water going everywhere, “we’re not turning a new page—You burnt the fucking book!”

The blond’s eyes widened; Penny had gotten angry in the past, furious even. She’d broken things, broken skin, broken bones and it was always accompanied by outraged screaming. But Penny didn’t make unnervingly straight eye contact while she did it. She was barely coherent at the best of times, mostly she screamed to the room at large before flying into a violent frenzy—it was different. It was startling, the light in her eyes and the way her voice cracked.

“There is no page turning, there’s no fucking—fucking reconciliation here, Steve,” she snatched a towel from the rack behind the tub, wrapping the light green fabric around her chest tightly, “I can’t believe after, fuck, how long has it been? A month and a half? Two months? What fucking day is it?”

“…It’s July 2nd,” he found himself choking out, still feeling shell shocked as she stepped out of the tub.

“A month and a half,” Penny’s face twitched, just barely concealing the distraught look he could see she wanted to make and she started shifting past him, “Jesus Christ after a month and a half you guys still don’t get it—you know what, never mind. After a month and a half, I should’ve been smart enough to realize what dumbasses you both are.”

“Penny—”

“God, fuck!” She shouted up at the ceiling, stopping in place halfway out the door. “I have listened to you two talk at length for what’s apparently been a month and a half! I have tried to listen to your stupid fucking rules, I put in the fucking effort and you still decided to take away the one thing I care about! I’m sick and tired of you saying my name in that fucking tone, I’m tired of constantly internalizing and I’m tired of being fucking walked on! So I’ll tell you what I told Bucky—either kill me or leave me alone, but for fucks’ sake just give me space!”

A low mew followed her statement and Penny made an abrupt about face, stomping past him to snatch up the kitten from where it had been sitting on the ledge and storming past him again. It was like getting brushed by a wildfire and Steve fought the urge to take a step back when her wet hair whipped against him.

She dug through one of the bags that held her belongings angrily, kitten on her shoulder, knowing that the blond continued to watch her from the bathroom doorway. Shorts, underwear, a sports bra, a t-shirt, and a hoodie over that. She would’ve put on socks but she knew it bothered Steve when she went barefoot.

“Come downstairs, precious,” he sighed after watching her dress, gesturing towards the stairs, “we’ve got to talk.”

“We’ve always got to talk,” Penny snorted derisively but started down the stairs anyway, Tuly back in her arms, “but it’s usually just you two telling me what I can and can’t do. Stop bossing me around.”

Steve followed after her, aghast and confused—Penny had always been brave in the situations she was forced into, whether it was taking custody of her fourteen year old brother or dealing with being kidnapped from her apartment by a billionaire criminal, but she hadn’t ever antagonized before. She’d talked back, got irritated, snapped, but she hadn’t ever just been flat out bitchy.

On the main floor, Bucky had already put away all of the groceries and was folding up the cloth shopping bags to tuck away for next time. The brunet’s eyes locked on Penny for several long calculating seconds and her hackles raised; whatever was coming was going to be annoying. She refused to be afraid though, not when there wasn’t anything to lose. Not anymore.

“Sit on the couch, let’s talk,” Steve directed, watching as she seemed to contemplate following the direction before doing so, “things are obviously going to be different here, precious.”

“The cabin is equipped with the same AI as the tower but its restricted to monitoring and safety protocols,” Bucky explained, gesturing to the open layout of the main floor, “you’ll be able to go outside so long as you ask first, there’s plenty to do out there. When Steve bought it there was an overgrown vegetable garden out there, we had it cleaned up for you and the shed fixed up and stocked. A lot of good hiking around here too.”

“I can’t talk to JARVIS?” She asked, eyes tracking the way the soldier’s exchanged glances. “Of course not. Then I would have some sort of interaction beyond the pair of you. Damaging to your plan, huh?”

“Penny, the rules didn’t end just because we’re out of the tower,” Steve had one hand braced on his hip while the other rubbed over his forehead, “be—”

“If you say Be Sweet I’ll find a way to kill myself,” Penny intoned, a dry look on her face. “Jews don’t have an afterlife you know, I’m not afraid of going to Hell.”

“Penny, we’re trying—”

“Penny we’re trying,” she mocked in a high-pitched voice, dead eye stare once again boring into Bucky’s, “I’m not. I’m done trying. You’ll either kill me or drive me insane, I’ll never see Peter again—I…I failed. I couldn’t protect him, I couldn’t even keep him safe until he was an adult, isn’t that insane? Grand total of three years and some change and I fucked it up.”

Penny stood up from the couch, shaking her head as she went. The kitten was quick to jump off the couch and follow after her, meowing while that massive fluffy squirrel tail curled over its back. The open floor plan of the cabin came in handy for the soldiers though, because she couldn’t really escape even as she walked across the living room and into the kitchen.

It was hard to pretend she didn’t actually love the cabin. The kitchen was small, located beneath the loft that held the bedroom and bathroom. The railing to the loft was covered in live vines that hung down to create a tiny illusion of separation between the living room and kitchen, the kitchen itself was sage green with white and dark brown accents. There were more plants, open cabinets mounted to the walls, the sink was small but there was a dishwasher. She loved the spiral staircase that led up to the loft, framing the kitchen to the left with small shiny baubles hanging from it.

There was a hamsa and a cross, both stained glass and hanging from the tallest step. Pretty cat toys hung from the lower railings, just within the kitten’s reach. It made Penny’s skin itch, just how lovely and perfect the whole cabin was. More evidence that they were paying a freaky amount of attention to her and every move she made.

“You didn’t fail, doll,” Bucky’s tone was quiet and he hesitated for a moment before following after her several paces, ending up on the edge of the kitchen, “You didn’t fuck it up, Peter—”

“Peter is trapped in a prison in New York with a creep more than twice his age who wants to violate and brainwash him,” Penny was on her knees in front of the fridge, digging through the crisper drawer in the bottom. “Literally all I had to do to prevent that from happening was pay more attention to his daily life. Fuck, kid was practically raising himself with how often I was gone—never stood a chance, you know?”

“Don’t think like that Penny,” Steve sighed, leaning down to pick up the kitten that had circled back to his ankles and setting it on his shoulder, “there’s nothing you could’ve done. You know who Tony Stark is, you know what he’s capable of. You can’t heap that guilt on your shoulders.”

“Oh, can’t I?” She hummed, absently throwing a package of bacon onto the floor, followed by a flat of raw chicken and beef. “There can be dairy in here or there can be meat, not both.”

“We might need a second fridge,” Bucky observed quietly, watching Penny drop a couple of deli bags with sandwich meat onto the ground before she started shuffling everything into different places within the cooler. “We could keep it in the shed?”

“No room,” Steve shook his head absently, “garage?”

Penny had collected a stack of items from the fridge and piled them onto the counter, not even bothering to look back on the soldiers as she began puttering around. The open-faced cabinets on the walls held mostly dishes and containers filled with ingredients and she ducked down, opening the lower cabinets and digging out several pans.

“Do you… do you want a hand, doll?” Bucky asked hesitantly after several moments, watching her collect ingredients and tools and turn on the stove.

“No.”

“Penny—”

“Can I make lunch please?” She whipped around, an irritated look on her face and a spatula in hand, looking like she was about to use it to beat them both, “I’m hungry and I want to die, I figure you’ll only allow me to fulfill one of those wants so can you let me cook?”

The next thing she knew, Penny had been swept up into Bucky’s arms. The solider looked confused, lips curled in frustration but his brow furrowed with dismay. She stiffened at the action when he stomped back to the couch and sat down roughly, dropping her over his knees and landing a smarting blow to her ass through her shorts without warning.

“Thirty for this fucking attitude,” he barked, yanking the shorts down until the waistband settled under the curve of her ass against the tops of her thighs, “count.”

A sharp inhale followed the first skin to skin hit and Penny snarled in response, “one.”

“Apologize,” Steve’s fingers tangled into her hair, extracting the hair tie and letting the curls fall in chaotic waves over her shoulders and face.

“Two,” she counted dutifully and angrily, narrowed eyes landing on Steve’s face, “I’m sorry you’re a fucking monster!”

“That just added ten more, Penny,” Bucky sighed through gritted teeth, “you better reign it in.”

“You better just kill me,” she rasped, nails digging into his leg where she was holding on for balance through the hits, “because I won’t reign it in. I’m sick to death of you motherfuckers—Oh, fuck, three!”

“No cursing during punishments, start from one,” Steve ordered darkly, the hand in her hair pulling taught as he glanced into Bucky’s eyes—the baffling combination of anger and dismay and loss in the brunet’s eyes let him know he wasn’t the only one scrambling.

“Fuck you!” Penny shook her head roughly as if to dislodge his hand, canting her head to the side the best she could manage to look him in the eye, “beat me black and blue, I don’t fucking care. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter anymore! Nothing fucking matters.”

content warnings: spanking *edit, addition content warning: disrespectful terminology for Jewish people

#steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #dark!fic

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sexy-monster-fucker · 4 years

Text

Eddie Brock|Venom NSFW Alphabet

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Eddie is very very caring after sex. He knows Venom can be rough so he wants to make sure you are okay. He LOVES to cuddle after sex. Very touchy. A lot of forehead kisses.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

Eddie loves your hands. He loves intertwining fingers with you. Venom, on the other hand, loves your neck. He loves to wrap his hand firmly around it.

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Venom loves finishing inside you. Eddie would never admit it, but he does too.

D - Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Secretly, Eddie has a HUGE daddy kink. He never told you, but one time you let that name fall from your lips and it drove him mad. He adores being called that.

E - Experience (How experienced are they?)

Eddie may have a tough guy exterior, but he actually does not have that much experience. He always tends to wait until he has rather strong feelings for the person he is with before deciding to sleep with them. Obviously, Venom is only as experienced as his host.

F - Favorite Position

Any position where they get to be the dominant one. They adore being on top for real.

G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Eddie and Venom are both very serious in the moment. They love having sex and consider it to be very intimate. They do everything to make sure it’s perfect for you.

H - Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Well, Venom does not really have hair. That one is self explanatory. Eddie keeps himself groomed, but there is hair always.

I - Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Eddie is one of the most caring people on the planet. He loves to make sure you know how much he loves you.

J - Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Venom has a very high sex drive, so sometimes he ends up getting Eddie worked up. Eddie often has to take care of it as not to bother you. It often happens at the worse times, so Eddie does not like bothering you with it.

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Eddie has a secret daddy kink. Venom himself has a breeding kink. He gets off on the idea of his seed impregnating you. He longs to reproduce with you.

L - Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Eddie loves to do it in the bedroom. Call it old fashioned, but he loves taking you into the bedroom after a night out and ripping your clothes off you.

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Eddie loves to be seduced by you. When you graze your fingers up his arm or chest it gets him going. He also loves when you kiss his neck.

N - NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Neither of them want to share you ever. They both are super overprotective and only want you to be their’s.

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Eddie and Venom both LOVE to eat you out. They love being in control and watching you squirm under them.

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Both Eddie and Venom tend to be rough during sex. Eddie is more on the sensual side, usually taking things slowly before getting rough. But Venom loves to get rough real quick. He slams into you as hard as he can and moves quickly inside you.

Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Venom would have sex with you anytime anywhere. Eddie, however, prefers to take you home first. So when Venom gets him worked up in public, Eddie usually rushes you home. Whispering in your ear, “He’s decided it’s time. We gotta go.” It sends chills down your spine.

R - Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Eddie is usually down for anything. There are a few things Eddie won’t do. But most of the time, Eddie loves to try anything you want. He always has to be careful thought because Venom can get out of hand.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

Eddie can go a few rounds, but does not want to overwork his partner. Venom can go all night if he is feeling it. He goes until he decides he is done. After a night with Venom, you are usually so tired and worn out you are seeing stars.

T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No.

U - Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Eddie adores teasing you in public. Like if you are out at dinner, he loves inching his hand up your thigh. He gets achingly close to your opening and just sits there. Or he will lean into your ear and whisper something rather nasty. “I’m gonna rip that little dress off you when we get home,” or “You have no idea what’s in store for you when we leave here.” He loves driving you crazy.

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

They both are not very loud. Grunting and whispering your name or curses is about the loudest they get.

W - Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Venom loves to wrap his long tongue around your neck. He loves choking you with it. The taste of your skin drives him crazy.

X - X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Venom can be any size he wants. Eddie is packing himself.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very. Eddie wants to do it multiple nights a week. Venom, however, would do you multiple times a day if you would let him. This sometimes leads to Eddie having to take care of things himself.

Z - ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Eddie loves to cuddle afterward. He will stay awake until you fall asleep. He wants to make sure you are comfortable and cared for.

~~~

[Tags]

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\\ If you no longer want to be tagged in my Venom x Reader Fics, please do let me know. Or if you would like to be tagged in future posts, let me know! //

#venom #venom x reader #eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #venom 2018 #tom hardy #headcanon #SexyMonsterFics

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Note

(Which Spider-Man?) Mary-Jane takes Miles under her wing instead or Peter has to kill Beck

(set after into the spiderverse)

defeating kingpin and sending the other spider... well, men off to their own worlds felt great, but once it’s over miles has to face the fact that he’s still starting out on his own here and this world’s peter parker, his spiderman, is still fresh in the city’s memory. it means he gets some weird and mixed reactions from people during his first few swing-throughs of the city, but he tries to take them in his stride.

he reminds himself that he has people to go to for advice and support and an entire, whaddayacallit, spider cave to peruse if he wants to. there’s fresh and advanced webshooters, web fluid, costume changes, tracking and recording equipment, and besides, may parker is badass. there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be hanging out there all the time.

except--

there’s this way may’s eyes soften and get watery when she’s looking at him and thinks he isn’t noticing, her entire body cratering at the centre after being upright for so long. it’s awkward when she once asks him to call her ‘aunt may’ then stops herself, looking stricken, then never brings it up again. sitting in her house sipping hot chocolate means remembering the first time he was sitting in that hall; looking at the fading scorch marks on the wall; thinking uncle aaron i miss you and realising for probably the hundredth time that week that he’s never going to see his uncle again. it’s like he’s surrounded by a thousand invisible emotional tripwires, and he’s always walking into them and falling into some memory.

so, yeah. he doesn’t really go to may’s much, unless it’s for an emergency, or he’s running low on web fluid, or needs to repair his costume. it’s during one such trip that he finds mary jane watson sitting in the spidercave.

mj (because of course she wants him to call her mj) is… nice. she’s nice. there’s not a whole lot more miles can say at first because again: peter parker is this sort of insurmountable wall between them, and as much as he bonded with other (his) pete, he isn’t quite sure what this (not his peter but technically his universe’s, so, well. shit. this is all very confusing) peter was really like. he was very kind to miles when he first saw him (and quicker to put two and two together) but did he have that same exhausted dad energy? was he scarily competent and an absolute slob at the same time? did he get that soft, wondering look in his eyes, like he’d received a gift he never expected to get, whenever he thought nobody was looking at him? did he ask his famous-in-her-own-right journalist girlfriend to help him be spider-man, or was that part of him mostly a mystery to her too?

miles could ask said-girlfriend, but… it’s too soon. too raw. too awkward. too miles-has-schoolwork-and-vigilantism-consuming-every-second-of-his-life-and-he-just-doesn’t-have-any-leftover-energy-to-deal-with-this.

they exchange phone numbers during their second meeting and it continues to be weird at first (what’s miles going to do? send mary jane watson pictures of minecraft memes?), but he quickly discovers that mj isn’t really interested in spiderman related--or even adjacent--conversations either. it’s mostly messages asking him about his day, or about school, or if spiderman’s really taking the subway every other morning (miles’ spider genes apparently don’t allow him to withstand swinging from building to building after a full cheeseburger meal). miles quickly loses his nervousness and it even becomes a sort of comfort.

then: the messages start getting… different. what you’re looking for isn’t there and see attachment and i can get you oscorp’s internal files on this and the nuclear material is coming in from oslo not ohio what the fuck even is this spellcheck

all the tips pan out because of course they do, it’s mary jane watson. miles isn’t entirely sure how she seems to know so often what he’s working on, but he suspects that she watches where he’s been as spiderman closer than he first thought.

still, he feels awkward enough that it’s a while before he texts her i think i’m stuck on this one.

the reply is almost immediate: i thought you’d never ask.

being spider-man is all fun and games until it suddenly isn’t: when miles realises he’s out there in the middle of an inferno without backup, during every moment he jumps off a building and thinks for a split-second, mid-air: what if i don’t make that next landing. more often than not he makes it out okay at the end of the day, but there are also moments like this: stuck under a wooden beam, hurt just enough that he can’t muster the strength to throw the beam off his back, fire raging in the floors beneath him, the heat wafting up threatening to cook him in his nice superhero suit.

i might not make it is no longer a split-second thought. in fact it’s a thought that occupies a lot of whole seconds strung together.

then: “spiderman!”

the shout is followed a few seconds later by mj herself, her form shimmering and wavering in the heat, handkerchief pressed to her nose and mouth. when she sees him her watering eyes light up.

miles’ jaw hangs open, and something clicks in his head: there’s no way spiderman could’ve existed without this reckless, brave, smart yet so stupid, incredible person.

he’s a lot less nervous about asking for help after that, and about reminding her that yeah, he can be a little foolish at times, but she was the one who ran alone into a burning building to help somebody with super-strength and super-healing. she never argues that last one, just smiles fondly.

mj becomes fast friends with miles’ mother. miles doesn’t even remember how they met--ran into each other at the grocery store every weekend? something. it isn’t really relevant. what’s important is that now mj and his mom appear to be best friends, and miles isn’t sure how to feel about this. he gets the notion that, despite not being bitten by a radioactive spider, mj is much farther along in this world than he is. boundaries are different. more porous.

even so, mj is… something else.

sometimes, sitting across from her at the dining table at home, it feels like the world is a little bit warmer, a little more… complete. then she would catch his eye and give him a knowing smile, and miles is in his costume again, poised at the apex of an expansive arc and not knowing where he’s going to land in a world he’s starting to realise he doesn’t really understand after all.

he never tells mj about the multiverse spidermen, though he can tell she is curious about where he disappears to every now and then. truth be told, he’s a bit scared of how she’ll react to the idea of other peters existing.

months after that first meeting, miles and mj visit peter’s grave together.

it’s probably the first time miles has seen mj be anything but calm and put-together. exhaustion piles in like sand in a tipped hourglass. her shoulders slump and her nails claw into a faded sweatshirt that she’s holding in her hands. and yet… she’s holding back, miles realises. for all that he’s seen of her in the last several months, there’s a layer she’s still reserving for peter and miles… doesn’t resent it exactly, this peter spectre that keeps coming up between him and everything that he wants to know about how to do his job, but he hopes…

he hopes he’ll get to know mj some day.

he walks away to a cafe nearby. mj joins him half an hour later, eyes red and mascara smeared but her face dry. they buy milkshakes and plot their next move against doc ock.

( send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons! )

#spiderman #into the spiderverse #miles morales #mary jane watson #my fic #sillierthanasillylaugh #i got stuck halfway through this #like proper STUCK - for a whole month #and my brain didn't allow me to work on anything else until i finished this so #it's been a frustrating month #it's done and i kinda never want to see it again

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taliaquinn · 4 years

Text

Why Me!? Chapter 20

Authors Note: So hey guys!! A lot of you figured out my mini-Easter egg when I mentioned New York City. Kudos to you smarties. Let me tell you my tag list is open, because I adore you guys a lot.

“So where's Dick and Cass?” Marinette asked wondering where Dick disappeared off to. He was SUPPOSED to be there on the plane with them. However, once they arrived at the airfield Dick was nowhere to be found.

Flinching Tim looked up from the business files in his hands.

Hey while he was gonna be in New York City he may as well look into future business partners and get some more jobs in Gotham.

“Well uh, Dick he uh decided to stay..home because….” side-eyeing Jason he quickly elbowed him.

Startled while reading his book he took a quick second to decide on a good cover story “because…his ribs still hurt and you know what Bruce is like all overprotective and stuff…so shes babysitting him....” Ugh Tim and Him were going to have to practice on coming up with good cover stories. The whole Keeping the family secret from the family was getting really annoying.

“That sucks, this is my first trip to New York City,” Oblivious to the awful cover stories Marinette continued sketching. She did plan for her class to have a field trip to New York City to tour around. But all those plans went down the drain once she left. Oh well, there loss. “I'm even going to meet up with my friend Chloe at the hotel!!!” Marinette said excitedly. Chloe sent her an email a day ago about her vacation plans, (her revenge plans too). Marinette was over the moon when she found out that she was going to be there for the Stark Gala too!!!!

Mr.Wayne, her dad, even extended the trip a few days and got her a room, aka suite so Chloe could stay with Marinette more.

Chloe of course was curious as to who exactly these relatives were. I mean come on they booked a suite at a five-star hotel, in New York City, for Marinette and a Friend.

Marinette promised to explain everything to her when they were together.

“She's….the Mayor's daughter right???” Jason asked, trying to change the topic.

Unbeknownst to Marinette, Jason and Dick, before Bruce and Dick fought anyways, convinced Bruce to get Marinette her own suite, so she could do the babysitting job without distractions. It was pretty easy to guilt-trip Bruce once they pulled the “Daughter who you never knew about” card. Guilt-tripping works.

At Marinette's excited nod he added “She’s frikin loaded right?”

“Jason, you realize we’re on a private jet, on our way to New York City, to stay in a five star hotel, to attend the Stark Gala?” Tim teased, flipping through business papers. Bleugh Lex Corp that's a definite pass on that business offer.

“ Yeah right, you guys are attending the Gala” Jason rebutted “I have my own stuff to do Timmers”.

“Stuff” meaning a top-secret joint mission with Captain Rogers and Black Widow. Working together to take down a drug trafficking ring located in the heart of the city. Working with the Avengers every now and then exhilarating for Jason. Sure the Avengers worked more closely with the Government but they didn't have a universal; “No-Kill” rule.

Which was why Bruce hated joint-missions with the Avengers.

Extra icing on the cake for Jason.

“Excuses” Tim mumbled, upset that Bruce was forcing him to sit the mission out. Something about him being “overworked” pfft. He wasn't drinking coffee that much.

“Speaking of the gala, Marinette you have your dress ready?” He asked. Knowing that Marinette decided to make her own dress for the gala.

“Yep finished the detailing last night, and have my jewelry and shoes ready,'' Marinette said, patting her suitcase. Mr.Wayne was nice enough to buy her a bunch of fabric and also gifted her a necklace and bracelet to match. He also gave her earrings but she opted out of them since she learned her lesson about taking off her Miraculous. Thank you very much.

“What's with the armbands?” Jason asked, seeing Marinette pack them earlier. He assumed they had something to do with her “babysitting” job.

“Oh they were Alexei’s, they match with that I'm wearing”

“Your biological mom?”

“Yep, gotta ask Mr. Wayne more about her, I was only barely able to pry so much from my mom” Her mom would get too emotional sometimes when Marinette asked too many questions. Eventually, she just gave up asking.

“Ha Mr. Wayne, you do know that annoys Bruce to no end right?” Tim joked, seeing Bruce's face of frustration every time Marinette refers to him as Mr. Wayne.

“I do, it's just…” she was still struggling with her Biological parents and having a bunch of siblings suddenly “Too awkward for me to call him anything else”

“Jesus you sound like Peter” he scoffed.

“Who's Peter?” She asked with a slight scrunch of her eyes. That oddly reminded both Tim and Jason about Bruce. Bruce would scrunch his eyes whenever asking a question sometimes.

“Oh trust me you'll meet him soon” Jason answered going back to his book.

Dick was right the whole Wayne vs. Stark rivalry would be a perfect distraction. Oh if only Tim had his Camera.

......……

They finally landed, and soon Bruce was helping everyone off and into a car and heading towards their hotel. Once at their hotel, Bruce checked their bags in. Jason stayed behind to “rest” while everyone went to Stark Tower.

“Wait so Tony Stark is the one who is Throwing the Gala?” Marinette asked curiously inside the car.

“Yep he’s throwing the gala to raise funds for hospitals and clinics all located around the world” Rolling his eyes Tim continued “Well that's the official reason anyway, right now he wants to out-do Bruce's Charity Gala from a few months ago”

“As if that will ever happen” Bruce added. Ha, Stark wished he could outmatch his Galas.

“Talk about rich people's problems” she sighed.

“You're not wrong, One more thing, watch out Tony might try to take you as his own”

“What!?” Marinette squeaked out

Soon they arrived and made their way towards the suites. The elevators swished open to a smiling Pepper Potts and pouting Tony Stark.

“Pep, you see this? Bruce managed to get another one, you know what's the score now? 7-4” Tony complained once he saw Marinette. Bruce only glared back.

Ignoring them Tim stepped off and made a beeline towards Pepper and hugged her careful to squeeze her too tight

“Congratulations Pepper,” Tim said.

“Oh Thank you, Tim. It's great to see you after so long” Pepper said, hugging him back. She glanced around and noticed that a certain Red Hood was missing

“Where's Jason?” she asked frowning

“Unfortunately he stayed behind at the hotel to rest” he answered rolling his eyes. “But I brought someone better,” he said, reaching and pulling a startled Marinette forward.

“Meet Marinette Dupain Cheng,”

“Eeeep, uh Hi, I'm uh Mari-Marinette, but youalreadyknewthat, uh Hi” Marinette stuttered out.

Completely starstruck at meeting The Pepper Potts. CEO of Stark Industries and Style Icon. Oh god, she wished she brought her sketchbook. Maybe she can do a quick sketch on a napkin

Pepper couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the Stuttering French girl, reminded of another awkward teenager. Hopefully, Tony doesn't try and claim this one. She was pretty sure that Bruce wouldn’t appreciate that at all, judging by the way Bruce was eyeing Tony.

“Brucie dear you adopted another one!?’ Tony teased Bruce swinging his arm around his shoulder

“She's my daughter Stark,” Bruce responded, glaring at Stark “also what are you pouting about? I hear you're going to have a baby soon congratulations Pepper by the way”.

“Brucie, you have your gaggle of children. I deserve one too!!” Tony complained, wrapping his arm around his Pregnant Wife's shoulder. Trying, yet failing, to conceal his excitement at getting another kid.

He turned to greet Marinette when suddenly his eyes went wide. Marinette only stared back. A sudden staring match between her and Mr.Stark was happening apparently. What was Marinette's life? She remembered once being a normal girl. Maybe she should just blink.

“Wait HOLD UP!!!” Tony exclaimed suddenly ending the staring match, looking back and forth between Bruce and Marinette squinting. “Are you sure this adorable child is your child?”

“Oh for the love of go- yes I’m sure Stark” Bruce sighed exasperatedly. “Why does everyone ask me that”

“Cause she's adorable, sweet, and all Sunshiney, and well you’re….you” Tim answered.

“Bingo, Don't worry Bruce I got a Sunshiney child too, matter of fact here he comes now” Tony comforted.

“OhmygoshMr.StarkI’msosorry” a soot-covered Peter apologized running up to him.

“There was a fire in the lab,dummytriedtoextinguishitbutthemhesprayedhimself,

“Kid, Bruce Wayne is he-” Tony tried to cut in

“soIhadtoputoutthefireandcleanDummyUp”

Rolling his eyes he grabbed Peter's shoulders and twisted him towards everyone else

“Oh...uh Hi?” Peter squeaked out looking like a deer caught in headlights at seeing the three guests

“Hiya Peter,” Tim chirped excitedly standing next to Marinette who was awkwardly waving hello.

“Hi, Tim” Peter answered relieved. Thank god Tim, fellow tech geek, was here. He doubted he could handle Bruce Wayne on his own.

‘Anyways Brucie you remember my sunshiney kid, Peter, right?” gripping Peter's shoulders from walking towards Wayne. Nu-uh he wasn't going to risk losing Peter to Wayne.

“Mr. Stark I'm not your kid, I still live with Aunt May. I'm your inte-”

“Hush kid“ Tony ordered covering Peter's Mouth.

Marinette sent a silent prayer. Bruce now had his hands protectively on her and Tims shoulders while Mr. Stark was doing the same to Peter. She would need a miracle to be able to survive this trip.

College Francis Dupont Paris, France 2 p.m

“NINO!!!” Nino couldn’t help but flinch, he’s been trying his best to avoid Alya all day.

Luckily the breakup happened on Friday so he had the weekend to put himself together thanks to friends and icecream, lots of ice cream.

Surprisingly Chloe was the first to approach him after the breakup. After her, Aurore and Kagami came over to comfort him. They brought him some chocolate filled pastries. After a few hours of comfort, he received a phone call from an unknown number. When he picked up it was the voice of the sweetest girl on earth that greeted him.

“Hey Nino”

“Marinette,” Nino breathed out left speechless “Why, why are you even calling me?”

“Don't be ridiculous Nino, I still consider you my friend, and right now my friend just got out of a toxic relationship” Marinette answered, yep she was happy for Nino when she heard that he broke up with Alya. Finally. “How are you”

“Who even told you?” he asked, still trying to get over the shock.

Releasing a slight giggle she replied “Chloe”

Nino couldn’t help but laugh through slightly watering eyes “Of Course”

At the reminder of Marinette, Nino mustered up the courage necessary and turned to face his ex.

Be brave Be Brave Be Brave B-

“Nino wanna explain to me why you’ve been ignoring me and Adrien since last week!!??” Alya yelled.

Channel your inner Chloe Bourgeois, he reminded himself. “We broke up, remember? I didn't want to hear your excuses”. That was all Alya ever did, make excuses.

“Excuses?” screeching Alya took a step forward closer to Nino, instead of staying there took a step back trying to keep his distance away from him “Yes, excuses you always try to act like you never did anything wrong, or not even bother to apologize” “No I don’t”

“You're doing it right now, jeez why do I even bother Marinette warned me”

“Marinette” she spat out. Of course. She’s the entire reason why she lost Nino. Well, she wasn't going to let her win. She was determined to get Nino Back.

Oblivious to her anger, Nino explained. “Marinette warned me, as your ex-best friend she became well-acquainted with your “apologies””

“I don’t owe you an apology, you just overreacted” Adrien called her, and told her how Nino refused to talk to him and was instead talking to the class traitors “Matter of fact I’m here to give you a second chance, we can go and be a couple again and be happy”

“Yeah, sorry no dice,” He started to walk away doing his best to block out her screams.

“NINO, DONT DO THIS!!!”

A purple butterfly soon emerged from nowhere. Nino watched as it made its way towards Alya. Only one thought ran through his mind as he witnessed the butterfly merge with Alyas glasses and purple bubbles engulf Alya.

Run.

Authors Message: Hope you guys enjoyed this extra long chapter. I can’t wait till I post the next chapter. Also I’m gonna start writing a series that focuses on Dick Grayson soon.

I have part two of the Hamilton AU written out I just have to do this annoying thing called editing. Keep an eye out for that soon.

As Always stay Safe and Healthy Loves.

Taglist: (Still Open)

@purplesundaze @silvergold-swirl @k-poplunardreams @pepelachanel @laurcad123 @maribat-is-lifeblood @kass-is-weird @another-fan-of-anotherplan @damianette-is-life @amayakans @parallelparabox @miukiiu @valeks-princess @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @thezestywalru @dreamykitty25 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @mochinek0 @shamefullove @mochegato @souleateralicestein @thestressmademedoit @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @aestheticnpoetic @flufflepuffle296@mysupporthyperfixations @itsmeevie01 @jeminiikrystal @iglowinggemma28 @whydoexamsexist @kuroko26 @animalgirl05 @susiej1118 @damianthebratboy @ccwkm6967 @valyui901601 @wannajointhecrabcult @thornalchemist23 @tazanna-blythe @rebecarojas07 @moonlightstar64 @chylou34

#miraculous ladybug #mlb au #maribat #batfam #Marinette deserves better #dick grayson #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #Damian Wayne #jason todd #class salt #b!dbwm2020

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lyssismagical · 4 years

Text

take a look at me now, there’s just an empty space

For @ironxprince !!! (@friendly-neighborhood-exchange)

Thank you so so much to my beta Rrobrien

Read on AO3

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @justme--emily @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao

Hurt people hurt people.

Ben used to say that after fights with May. He’d get back late at night to find May in the kitchen, stress cleaning as she does, with Peter sitting on the floor by her feet, refusing to go to bed until he knew his aunt and uncle were okay. His face would fall, tears filling his cried-out eyes, and he’d sweep May into his arms, pressing kisses to his forehead and cheeks.

He wouldn’t use it as an excuse, he was better than that. But it was a reason why, a soft explanation as to why he’d gotten angry about the little things. He was hurting, that doesn’t make it okay, but May always expected it like it was an apology.

Peter didn’t realize how close he kept those four words to his chest until he lashed out at Ned one day.

There hadn’t been anything wrong in particular. A regular lunch day, years after the death of his parents, something he thought he had mostly gotten over. As much as he could, at least.

But Ned had started complaining about how overbearing his mom was being, how much his dad would pester him about his homework.

“At least you have parents.” It was meant as a joke originally. A way to lighten the mood a little bit, but it came out bitter and Ned had flinched as though Peter had shouted it.

“You have May and Ben. They love you loads, Peter.”

“They’re not my parents.”

Added to the bitterness was a hint of jealousy, of longing. He knew it was unfair to May and Ben who loved him to the moon and back, they cared for him like he was their own. But as much as they loved him, they still weren’t Mary and Richard. They weren’t his parents.

He remembered them pretty well. Better than May thought he would. She lost her parents at a pretty young age too, but she only remembers them in snippets, in photographs, not in the specific details Peter remembers his.

Mary wore lavender perfume that would hang in the house no matter how long she was away for business, though Peter suspects Richard would spray it just to make sure it didn’t fade.

Richard had an obsession with old baseball cards. He kept them in photo albums, ones Ben kept in his closet after.

When Peter was really little, they used to make sure to take alternating business trips so Peter never had to stay with May and Ben for longer than an afternoon. His aunt and uncle never minded, but Peter was a clingy kid and would get fussy if he was alone for too long.

The fight with Ned had escalated until Peter cried, which made Ned, ever the sympathetic friend, cry too. And they hugged it out.

But what Ben had said hung in Peter’s head.

Hurt people hurt people.

Peter tries harder to be the hurt person that helps people.

No matter how heavy the hurt gets, stuck in his chest with nowhere to go because burdening others is hurting them, he won’t be that person.

When Ben dies that fateful night, Peter keeps up that mantra in his head. Hurt people hurt people.

He writes off every fight with May, every night she doesn’t come home, every plead to the landlord when May doesn’t make the bills on time, as just a byproduct of her hurting. He never complains, does all his chores, and convinces Delmar to give him a job after school to help take care of the finances.

The call isn’t much of a surprise.

It’s not like Peter ever had much family.

May’s parents died when she was young, Ben’s dad was never really in the picture and his mom had been in a home for a while. There weren’t any other aunts or uncles or cousins. So they shipped him off.

It only took a surprisingly short number of weeks for him to be shifted up to the high-risk category. Everyone thought his late-night escapades superheroing was him being a rebellious kid. They started putting bars on the windows and locks on the door, but he needed to go out as Spider-Man. It was the only thing he had that tied him to his old life. He wasn’t allowed to keep anything, most things went ‘into storage’ which essentially meant that he’d never see them again.

Sneaking out at night, always ending up with cuts and bruises after his late nights, and his never-ending metabolism made it hard to find anything close to a permanent placement.

Weeks turn to months spent bouncing from home to home of people who don’t care. Who will come up with any excuse for his social worker to take him elsewhere. Who will lock him in a storage closet that barely passes as a bedroom like he’s some kind of dangerous animal.

As much as he missed May and Ben, and the safety they had provided, he understood well enough that they weren’t going to rescue him. Who he really missed, was Ned. He didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye before he disappeared nearly nine months prior. He hasn’t had access to a phone or a computer, most foster parents don’t even have the time to get him enrolled in school before they were giving him away.

The only upside is that his social worker, a younger woman who’s obviously in over her head with his case, actually seems to care about his well being. She does weekly check-ins and she always answers the calls to get him removed from homes.

He’s heard from other kids in group homes that most of them don’t care as much about them. That it ends differently for them.

He supposes he should consider himself lucky.

“They’re saying they don’t have any problems, Peter. That’s a good thing,” Elaine, his social worker, says. Her eyes are all wide and hopeful like she thinks this will be the permanent placement she’s been searching for.

He tries not to roll his eyes, shifting on the old dusty couch with a grimace. “The only reason they’re saying that is because they locked me in a room about the size of a pantry and haven’t spoken a word to me in the past week.”

Somehow this makes her light up even more. “But that means they aren’t mean to you, doesn’t it? They’re planning on enrolling you into a nearby high school and they’re financially stable enough to afford to feed you and everything. This is good!”

“It’s good that they pretend I don’t exist? That they didn’t actually feed me despite having the food? It’s good that they lock me up from six pm until six am every day?” Peter doesn’t miss Elaine’s flinch at his harsh tone. “I know how hard you’re trying, but is this really the best you guys can do?”

Elaine sighs, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “There’s a lot of kids, Peter. And not a lot of people who really want to foster a fourteen-year-old kid who’s got a spotty history at best. Unless you want to go back to a group home until I can find a better placement, this is going to have to do. They already want me to give up on your case because of how much trouble we’ve been having. My bosses want to blame you for this.”

“Right.”

Peter wonders about the kid from before, the version of him that was cheerful and gentle and innocent. The kid that would’ve never been so short and hostile with a woman who was only trying to help him.

He wonders if it’s only going to get worse. Even if this particular foster home keeps him around until he graduates, another three and a half years, he’s never going to have a family again. He’s going to be kicked out at eighteen with nothing more than the clothes on his back and hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt to whatever university he applies to.

Whatever happens, he’s never getting May and Ben back. He’s never going to have his family. He’s going to have to resign to living unhappily with these people who are never going to love him the way his old family did.

“Peter-”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to suck it up and deal with it. Congratulations, I’m officially off your plate until they get bored of me.”

Mrs. and Mr. Williams were dedicated to their jobs as salespeople, Peter guesses. They needed the extra money from the government, fostering a kid, to pay for their long trips worldwide for business purposes. They didn’t want kids, never did, Peter was like an insurance policy. Which meant he was left home alone pretty frequently.

It also meant that they were stressed pretty much all the time. They’d yell at both him and each other. He supposes that’s another reason why they chose to foster him, it takes a lot of the strain off their marriage if they have somebody else to shout at. So they shout, and they insult him, and they get angry over every little thing he does.

Which is fine, really. He’s been through a lot worse than shouting.

He stays quiet whenever Elaine drops by, he doesn’t speak more than a few words to his teachers or to his classmates. He figures it’s easier to stay quiet. It means nobody will yell at him for disobeying or talking back. There’s no risk of getting hurt because he said too much. It’s easier to keep his mouth closed.

And then the few words he speaks, here and there, slowly taper off until he doesn’t talk at all.

It’s easier.

Especially when there are words always on the cusp of being spoken. Words like I miss May, and it’s all my fault, and help.

If he were to complain to the faculty about what was going on behind the scenes, he’s sure he’d be taken away.

And taken away meant taken somewhere worse.

He was lucky to be living with people who didn’t hit him very often, who had the decency to enroll him in high school, who were rarely even around anyways, like Elaine said. He was lucky and he couldn’t risk messing up the placement.

If he keeps quiet, he’ll make it through high school, graduate, and get out of the system. He just has to wait it out.

Hurt people hurt people, anyways. So it’s better if he stays quiet, stays small, to prevent the risk of hurting somebody.

So he stays quiet.

Peter shoves open the front door, dropping his bag onto the floor. He’s going to be home alone all week and he’s trying to come up with some plan to make it to Midtown and back without his foster parents finding out. He just wants to see Ned again.

“I was starting to get a little bit worried about the absence of a certain spider around the city, but now that I’ve seen this, it’s really not too much of a surprise.”

Peter freezes in the hallway, hands curling into fists as he tries to prepare himself for a fight. He can’t see the owner of the voice, but he’s sure it’s bad if they know his alter ego.

And then the person rounds the corner.

Tony Stark.

The Tony Stark is in his house.

“Now, I was a little confused as to why you were swinging around Queens or Midtown or even Manhattan, when you lived so far away. And then I did a little digging on one Mister Peter Parker. Can you believe the kinds of things I found on you?” he continues. He’s dressed in an outfit more expensive than everything Peter owns, he guesses, though it’s not too hard to do that. And he’s tapping at his watch like he doesn’t even care to look at Peter.

Though he looks up at Peter’s silence.

“A lot,” Tony says. His mouth creases into a frown and he leans against the wall across from Peter. “You’ve been through quite a rough two years, hm?”

Still, Peter doesn’t open his mouth. He doesn’t want to explain to Tony fucking Stark the kind of year he suffered through. More than that though, he doesn’t want to accidentally say too much. He’s worried that the moment he started speaking, he’d never be able to stop. Instead, he simply squints his eyes up at Tony and lifts an eyebrow.

“I’ll cut to the chase. I can’t have vigilantes running around New York unsupervised. Especially not children. So I’m here to offer you a place at the Avengers Compound. Train with the team, come on missions, you know, the whole shebang.”

There’s a lot of questions Peter thinks about asking, answers that he needs, but he just watches as Tony moves from the wall into the kitchen nearby.

“You’re coming with me, kid. End of story. It’s either that or Ross takes you to the Raft, which I’m not going to let happen,” he says, barely glancing over his shoulder. “You’re really not going to talk to me?”

In response, Peter runs a hand through his hair, longer than he normally likes to keep it and choppy from his own haircuts, and heads to his room to grab his belongings.

It’s not like he has much. Over the years of moving from house to house, starting with only a duffel bag, he’s down to just a few things. Things get lost, things get taken, things get confiscated. It’s just the way it goes.

“Imagine if they’d sent someone like Barton here to deal with this,” Tony’s mumbling under his breath when Peter returns with his plastic bag. “Or worse, Barnes. I don’t think you’d be quite so willing to go with anyone less famous.”

Peter ignores him and grabs a loose sheet of paper to write his note. Not that it matters much, but I’m headed off to live elsewhere. Everything (including Elaine) will be taken care of. -Parker

“Social worker?” Tony guesses, peering over Peter’s shoulder at his scrawling chicken scratch. “If so, yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

And that’s it. It’s strangely simple, Peter supposes, but he’s gotten a little too used to being yanked around from house to house by strangers. He’s learned to keep his head down and stay quiet, because it’s never mattered what he thinks or wants, so there’s no point in voicing it.

He slips into the backseat of an overly flashy car, plastic bag clutched to his chest, and he tries his best to keep from crying.

He hugs the plastic bag to him and pretends the weight against his chest is somebody else. He pretends it’s May holding him close, or Ben tugging him into a hug, or Ned’s arm slung around him. He pretends he’s not desperate to be hugged, to be touched even fleetingly, accidentally, by anyone. He pretends that everything is fine as the house falls away behind him and his life changes again.

Tony disappears only minutes after the car is parked outside the Avengers Compound, leaving Peter in the hands of Happy.

Thankfully, Happy barely says a word to him, meaning Peter isn’t put in any awkward situations when he doesn’t reply.

Apparently, Peter gets half a floor to himself, shared with Bruce Banner though he hasn’t lived in the compound in years. After so long being given poor excuses for bedrooms, normally shared with at least a few other people, it’s shocking to have a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and office all to himself.

The space, despite being like heaven compared to the closets and basement he’s used to, makes the emptiness of it all the more apparent.

He’s living by himself.

It’s like Elaine had told him about emancipation. It might make him feel like he’s in control, it might give him a permanent home, but it takes away any possibility of a family.

He finds himself ignoring the freedom of the situation, and instead, curling up in the huge bed, tucking a pillow to his chest and wrapping himself in blankets. Finally, in the safety of a bedroom with no threats, no responsibilities, no fear, he lets himself cry.

Tony comes up to find him later that day with general rules and information. The school he’s enrolled in, when Elaine will visit, what times Peter has to meet in the gym with the team for training, what parts of the tower he’s allowed in, curfew, etc.

It’s all pretty basic.

With how often Peter’s been jerked around from home to home, rules get kind of repetitive. The only difference between the Compound and other homes is instead of bars on the window, the Compound has FRIDAY who tracks his every move.

The only positive is that Tony doesn’t seem too bothered by Peter’s silence. He talks enough for both of them.

Until he gets to the end of his speech and sits down across from Peter at the dining room table.

“I know you’re into this whole mysterious silence thing, but I’m going to need you to at least nod so I know you’ve understood. Now that you’re under my roof, you’re my responsibility. I can’t have you running around the streets of New York unsupervised and making mistakes when your actions reflect on me.”

And Peter nods, refusing to meet Tony’s eye, and keeping his arms crossed over his chest defensively. Apparently, it’s enough because Tony sighs and his shoulders relax drastically.

“Alright, well now that we’re through with that, I’m going to make dinner here for both of us. I don’t care if you retreat to your room until I leave, I’m going to make sure you’ve got food to eat tonight.”

As much as Peter does want to disappear to his bedroom and avoid the awkward attempts at a one-sided conversation or inquiries about the life Tony’s read about, he craves the closeness to another person.

The last time he felt properly close to someone was May. Every home in between had people who tried or people who didn’t, either way, it never felt the same. He was just another mouth to feed, another set of house visits and questionnaires from Elaine, another troubled kid under their roof. He was never treated like a human being, like a kid.

Yet Tony’s in the kitchen, muttering to himself about potential allergies and groceries, someone who’s let him under his roof and is cooking with him in mind. Somebody who chose him. Even if it might be for his alter-ego.

It still feels good.

It feels good to be wanted.

“Hey, kid?” Tony calls out from the kitchen where he’s ruffling through one of the pantries. “You allergic to anything I should know about?”

Peter shakes his head, mouth opening to give an explanation of how the spider-bite was the reason he’s no longer allergic to tree nuts or shellfish, but he quickly clamps his mouth shut. As much as he likes the feeling of being wanted, as much as he wants to fall into the safety of having Tony around, he can’t let his guard down. All it’ll do is hurt him.

“Good,” Tony says without realizing Peter’s near-slip. “I can make a pretty mean pasta dish.”

They fall into silence, the most comfortable silence Peter can remember having in a really long time. Tony cooks and Peter watches him, trying not to look like he cares too much, and it’s fine. Good, even.

And when Tony sits across from him again, setting plates down in front of both of them, it feels so much better than the simple, probably thoughtless gesture Tony was going for. He hasn’t had somebody make him dinner and let him eat with them in what feels like ages. Normally, a plate is left in the microwave for him and he’s watched until he’s finished so they can lock him in his bedroom for the night.

“I know you’re not going to talk to me,” Tony starts quietly, eyes narrowed in thought, “And I know this isn’t fair, none of it, but just know, I didn’t want to take you away without your permission. Ross is technically the boss and he was planning on locking all mutants and vigilantes up. I convinced him we could use you on our team instead of on the Raft.”

Peter nods and tries his best to offer a small, comforting smile in return.

He wants to reassure Tony that this is better than every house he’s lived in for over a year, that his past houses were probably closer to whatever the Raft is like than the luxuries of the Compound, even if it means following the strict schedules and conditions.

“And I don’t want you to think that just because you’ve been given this whole floor with all this freedom that you’re alone, alright? You’re always welcome up onto my floor, I’m just as lonely as you are, kid, and I’d always enjoy your company in my lab or kitchen.”

It’s a small olive branch, an optional opportunity to make this arrangement a little more personal, turn it into a friendship or something of the sort, and Peter’s whole chest warms at the idea of having somebody like that in his life.

They fall into silence while they finish eating their food and Tony clears their plates away. On his way to the elevator, he stops at the last second.

“Seven am, Happy will be waiting in the garage for you tomorrow to take you to school. And he’ll be in the parking lot at two-thirty to collect you in the afternoon. If you can’t meet your conditions for living here with the Avengers, there will be consequences, so please, just go to your classes, don’t cause trouble.”

Before Peter even has the chance to nod, the doors are sliding shut behind Tony, leaving Peter alone.

The first week living with Tony is strange, to say the least.

Peter doesn’t have the confidence to try anything outside of the schedule he’s been set, going to and from school with Happy, and staying cooped up inside his room for the rest of the afternoon and evening. And then, Tony comes down to see him in the late evening to cook them both dinner and to make one-sided small talk.

No Spider-Man, no secret trips to try to find Ned, no sneaking out or skipping class, nothing. He tries his best to be a model student and child.

At school, he keeps his head down, mouth shut, and doesn’t give anybody any reasons to pick on him.

Elaine shows up on Saturday morning, early enough that Peter’s just barely woken up when FRIDAY alerts him about the elevator arriving at his floor.

He greets his social worker with a small smile and sits down with Tony on the couch across from her, trying not to let the blush that creeps up his neck be too obvious at his old Thor pyjama pants and t-shirt with a science pun.

“The move was… unexpected to say the least, but I’m not too surprised. I didn’t think your last home would last much longer as is,” Elaine starts, looking down at her binder. “Well you’ve easily passed the house inspection and there are some things I want to go over with your lawyers, but the most important part is what the two of you think.”

Tony immediately jumps to answer. “He’s a good kid. Independent, smart, nice. I like having him around.”

“Peter?”

Unsurprisingly, Peter stays quiet. He feels frozen with his fear that if he says anything wrong, Elaine will deem this unfit and take him away, whisk him away to another group home or somewhere else with people who don’t want him.

Elaine gives him her binder, a lined sheet on the top with a pen clipped to it. “I need you to be honest, okay?”

Better here than most places. Tony’s nice. Going to school and being fed.

He knows exactly what he needs to say for her to check off the boxes. Education, food, and his approval. Simple and easy.

Tony’s leg is bouncing when he passes the binder back, though he shouldn’t have a reason to worry. If Peter said something bad, Ross would hunt him down and lock him up, that much Tony had made very clear.

“Good, good, good,” Elaine mumbles, tucking the paper away. “Well, that’s enough information for now, I think. I’ll give you more time to settle in and get comfortable together.”

Peter stays sitting while Tony escorts Elaine to the elevator and he looks relieved when he returns to find the teenager still waiting in the living room.

“Listen, kid, I know this isn’t the easiest for you. I know you’ve had a really tough year. And believe me, I’m awful at trying to talk about emotions or feelings or anything like that, but you’re one of us now. You’re part of the team and I’m technically your foster parent right now, so if you need anything, and I mean anything, you can come to me, alright? Even if you don’t want to talk out loud.”

For the first time in a very long time, Peter’s smile feels genuine.

He pushes down the urge to hug Tony, to give in to the cravings for physical affection, and ducks off to his bedroom, trying his best to hide the pleased blush on his cheeks.

His opportunity comes on a Friday afternoon when one of his classes is let out early, a few months into his arrangement with Tony. He’d spent a better part of his night scrolling through social media on his brand new Stark Phone and found out which high school Ned was attending. They’re both sophomores now, but they haven’t seen each other since middle school.

He made sure his spider suit, made of an old sweater, fingerless gloves, and sweatpants, was tucked into the bottom of his backpack.

Nobody noticed him sneaking out through the back doors, changing into his suit in a nearby alleyway, or casually swinging through the streets of Manhattan on his way to Midtown.

It’s pretty obvious that Tony will find him eventually. He has the best technology on his side. But Peter’s banking on having at least an hour before Tony finds out. It’ll give him enough time to let Ned know he’s alive at the very least.

Ned’s the same as he always was. Smiling brighter than ever and answering every question the teacher asks, chatting quietly to everybody around him.

“Holy shit,” somebody stage-whispers. Suddenly, everyone’s eyes are on him, leaning against the lockers opposite the classroom door, back in his civvies. “Is that Stark’s new project?”

Ned’s head jerks up and his eyes go comically wide as he sees his best friend in the hallway. “Peter!”

Thankfully, the teacher doesn’t even try to stop Ned from barreling out of the classroom and right into Peter’s arms.

“God, I was looking for you for months after you left school that one day and never came back! I called you and May like a million times before I saw the newspaper.”

There’s something about Ned and his overflowing optimism and kind wide-eyes that makes Peter feel safer than he has in a long time. It makes him feel safe enough to finally open his mouth.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get in touch with you,” Peter says, not even surprised by his constant apologies. His voice is hoarse and low from disuse, but it’s obvious how happy he is. “May got in an accident after work, she started working such late hours that she wasn’t as careful as she should’ve been. I got put in the foster system.”

Ned’s jaw drops and he grabs Peter’s arm, leading him down the hallway until they reach an empty bathroom to give them a little bit of privacy.

“I’m just so glad you’re okay!” Ned quickly drags Peter into another tight hug like he has to check and make sure Peter’s real. “You disappeared and I had no way of knowing where you were. Where do you live now? Is everything okay? How’d you get here?”

Smiling, Peter leans in closer, voice dropping low. “You’re never going to believe me, but I swear, it’s the truth. One, I’m Spider-Man. Two, I live with the Tony Stark. And three, I’m an Avenger.”

As soon as Ned pulls back, frowning in disbelief, Peter puts his hand on the wall to prove his stickiness. He even crawls up onto the ceiling to prove it before dropping back to the floor in front of his gaping best friend.

“Oh my god.”

“I- I’m going to get in a lot of trouble for coming here, I’m on a very strict set of rules, but do you want to come back to the Compound with me? I’ll catch you up on everything when we get there.”

Ned, practically bursting at the seams with enthusiasm, agrees heartily before pulling out his phone to call his mom and let her know where he’s going. While he does that, he texts Happy the address of Midtown High without any context. He figures there’s no way around getting in trouble for ditching school, so he may as well own up to it.

And at least this way, Ned can explain everything to Tony while Peter continues to deal with his inability to talk to adults.

By the time they slide into the backseat of the expensive car, Peter’s exhausted. The emotional toll of seeing his best friend for the first time in a year paired with the anxiety that eats away at his insides is enough to make him crave a nap.

Happy stares at Ned for a long time through the mirror, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a frown, before he finally starts driving.

“Uh, sir?” Ned squeaks, eyes wide. “Peter said he was going to get in trouble for this, but I feel like you deserve an explanation for-”

“One, I’m not the one doling out punishments, I’m just a glorified babysitter. Two, Peter said?”

Peter swallows thickly, turns his attention out the window, and tries his best not to curl even smaller in his seat.

Ned’s eyes dart over to him before focusing back on Happy. “Yes, sir. I was just-”

And then the glass slides up between the seats, effectively cutting him off.

“It’s okay,” Peter murmurs without looking at him. “He doesn’t mean any harm. You’ll have to appeal to Mister Stark, not Happy.”

Ned, forever the great friend that he is, reaches out and grabs Peter’s hand, linking them together in a small gesture of comfort.

* Tony’s waiting at the dining room table for them and he stands when they walk in. He’s obviously angry and Peter knows how this story goes. Maybe he gets sent away to another foster home, maybe he gets sent to the Raft with Ross. Either way, he’s just glad he got to see Ned.

“Mister Stark, sir?” Ned starts before Tony can. Peter admires that kind of confidence. “Before you say anything, I just want to explain.”

Tony’s eyes narrow, but he still waves a hand for Ned to continue.

“I’ve known Peter since we were seven. We went to school together.” There’s no good place to start a story like this, one that ends sad no matter where it begins. “After May’s accident, he was sent away and he had no way to contact me. I spent the better part of a year wondering where he was, what happened to him, why he wouldn’t answer my calls and texts. We were best friends for eight years, and then he disappeared. He just wanted to see me.”

It’s a simple way to put a tragedy.

“Is that true?”

Peter nods, trying his best not to look incredibly defensive but crossing his arms over his chest anyways.

“It is. And it would’ve hit the news eventually, Mister Stark. If Peter hadn’t come to me, I would’ve been trying to break in to see him.”

As kids, Ned was the least confident person Peter knew. He never stood up for himself or even tried to explain himself, he’d take every punishment he didn’t deserve, he’d keep his head down and accept whatever came to him without question.

Now, Ned stands tall and strong in front of Peter, easily defending him to their childhood hero.

Tony sighs harshly, sliding a hand over his face and finally sitting down in a chair at the dining room table. “Sit. Both of you.”

They do as told, both of them expecting a punishment of some sort for the rules they’ve broken.

“I don’t want to be the villain here,” Tony says. He’s watching Peter who’s leaning back in his chair nonchalantly, arms crossed, and eyes focused on the table like none of this matters. “I don’t want to make you feel like you’re not allowed to do anything but stay cooped up here like this is prison. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to try to get your life back. I don’t want you to feel like you have to walk on eggshells to ensure your safety.”

Peter forces himself to nod. The anxiety still thrums in his veins, stomach twisting and knotting, but the more Tony speaks to him, the more inclined Peter is to trust him.

Beside him, Ned’s shoulders slump noticeably. “So Peter’s not in trouble? He told me that he’s on a very strict set of rules and that there would be consequences if he broke them.”

“He told you that?” Tony’s eyebrows have lifted, eyes flicking between the two of them. “He said that? With words?”

“Well yeah. He said that you’re keeping him here to train Spider-Man.”

Tony’s eyebrows lift even more. “He said that. He hasn’t spoken a single word to anybody in months according to his social worker, and he tells you every secret he’s got within a couple hours?”

Underneath the table, away from Tony’s view, Ned links their hands together again. “I’m his best friend.”

It’s so simply put that Peter can’t help the smile that ghosts over his face, squeezing Ned’s hand.

Tony sighs again, running a hand through his hair. “You’re both off the hook, but please, for the love of god, text me or Happy the next time you want to do something. Don’t just run off.”

“Yes, sir,” Ned says on Peter’s behalf who can’t seem to get the smile off his face. “Oh! I don’t know if this is what Peter wants, but he’s a genius and I really think he’d be happier at my school.”

“You break the rules, plead forgiveness, and when I, out of the goodness of my heart, let you off with just a warning, you want to ask for more?”

Ned winces, eyes round and hand sweating in Peter’s, but he plows ahead. “Midtown High is a great school. I’d be there, so Peter wouldn’t have to run off anymore, and in case you weren’t aware, Peter is really smart. Like crazy smart. He’d be properly challenged at Midtown.”

With a roll of his eyes, Tony waves his hand at them. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

They both hurry up to their feet, prepared to make a run for Peter’s room if need-be, but Tony stops them at the last second.

“Ned?” The poor kid’s eyes look like they’re seconds away from popping out in fear, but Tony smiles fondly. “You’re welcome anytime. Let me know if you two want snacks or anything.”

They both nod, grinning unashamedly, and take off for Peter’s room before they can get stopped again.

* Peter finally bites the bullet after Ned goes home.

He takes the elevator up to Tony’s floor.

It’s not like he hates Tony or anything. He’s been idolizing the hero for as long as he can remember and Tony’s been nothing but welcoming since Peter started living with him. It’s been weird, sure, but Tony seems to genuinely care about the kid under the mask.

“Kid?” Tony’s bent over one of the lab benches in his giant lab, goggles sitting lopsided on his face, and grease staining his old shirt. “Everything okay?”

Peter realizes belatedly, frozen in the doorway to the lab, that he wants to talk to Tony. He craves normalcy and he’s desperate for an adult in his life. An adult who supports him, who wants him, who will take care of him. It’s all he’s ever wanted since May died.

Tony’s still watching him, almost like Peter’s a wounded animal, hands suspended in the air like he wants to comfort him but doesn’t know how.

“Mister Stark?” His voice isn’t as hoarse as it had been after his afternoon talking to Ned, but it’s still weak and shaking, more with trepidation than anything. “Is it, um, is it okay if I hang out in here for a little bit?”

The billionaire’s whole body sags with relief, expression softening and a small smile lifting his mouth. “Of course it is, kiddo. And if your friend’s right about what a genius you are, you can even help me out with this.”

Slowly, Peter shifts into the lab and up to Tony’s side, trying not to show how badly his hands are trembling. He also tries to hide how much the small nudge of Tony’s arm against his soothes his anxieties.

Almost as much as he craves an adult who wants him, he craves affection. May and Ben used to hand out affection like it was nothing. Hugs were given at least twice a day, Ben would blow raspberries against any piece of exposed skin, May would give out kisses especially to his forehead constantly. It was normal. But he hasn’t gotten any of that in what feels like forever.

He helps Tony with his projects, hands clumsy and voice wobbly, relaxing more and more the longer they work together.

Despite how much he craves all of this, it still doesn’t feel like enough. It’s like putting a bandaid over a wound that needs twelve stitches. It’s like writing one word of an essay that needs pages filled. It doesn’t work, it barely helps, the gaping hole in Peter’s chest still feels empty and cold.

And then Tony makes a stupid pun that borders on a dad joke, and then suggests they order some pizza for dinner. Like they’re a real family.

An hour or so later, they’ve got pizza on the coffee table and Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch.

Peter feels happy for the first time in a long time. Ned’s back, he’s got Tony who seems to already want to be here for the long haul, he’s got a roof over his head and food on the table, he’s laughing quietly over Tony weighing the pros and cons of the movies he’s stuck between. It’s nice.

Later, when the movie finishes, he drifts towards Tony, almost subconsciously, until his head lands on Tony’s shoulder, eyes already slipping shut. Tony’s arm wraps around his shoulders and he presses a kiss to Peter’s temple.

“Can I ask you something?” Peter says, voice barely above a whisper. He keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to see the way the question will make everything change.

“Shoot.”

“Is this… Is this for real? Will I get to stay forever?”

Peter can feel Tony’s smile against his hair, and his hand squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “You’re part of the team now, kiddo. And I hate to say it, but I’ve grown particularly attached to my Spider-Kid. I’m going to talk to Elaine and see what I can do to make this official. I’ve got a new and improved Spider-Suit waiting for you. And I’ve enrolled you in Midtown starting Monday.”

“So you’re going to be like my dad?” His voice is barely there, insecure, small.

Tony swallows audibly, nerves evident in his voice. “Yeah, I suppose so, bud. Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

Hurt people hurt people, Ben had said.

But maybe that’s not the case. Peter’s hurt, he’s always been a hurt person, but he seems to be doing a pretty good job at not hurting the people close to him. He can talk, he can feel, he can be, without worrying about the consequences, without worrying about everyone leaving him. Tony’s promised to be here and that’s enough to make Peter feel safe.

“Thank you,” he says, blinking back tears. For the first time in a long time, they’re happy tears. There’s more he wants to say, more he needs to say, but he knows Tony understands. After all, Tony’s been through a lot too. He knows more than he lets on about pain and hurting people.

“Things will get easier.” It’s said with such simplicity, such confidence, that Peter can’t help but believe it. Things are already easier, he’s no longer as scared about falling because he knows Tony will catch him when he does. As Spider-Man and as Peter Parker. Because Tony wants him and that’s all that Peter’s ever needed.

Tony’s arm is tight around Peter’s shoulders and his voice is sure as he murmurs a goodnight into Peter’s hair, and the cold, empty hole in Peter’s chest finally feels full and warm with love.

#lyss writes #friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #ned leeds #spiderman #iron man #irondad #irondad and spiderson #irondad fic

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