hide your bags

Danny not even denying Wes’ claims that he is Phantom and just responding with dry sarcasm


“Yep. You got me. Congrats Wes.” *takes bite from apple*


“Can’t hide anything from you Wes.” *turns page in text book*


“Okay. I’m Phantom. Happy?” *continues playing Candy Crush*


*wearing DP t-shirt* “No idea.”

Being the youngest avenger and them reacting to you going to Xavier's (or college/school)

-Bucky would be so proud that you want to control your mutations and Learn
-Steve would be chill at first then realize you’re serious
- “I have full faith that the incident with soap won’t happen again Stevie…I hope”
-Wanda being super excited for you to meet cute boys (aka Alex summers or young Scott summers)
- Nat hiding weapons in your bags just in case
- tony trying to replace you with peter but it doesn’t work
- and peters like “wtf thanks bruh #notfeelingthelove”
- Bruce making up a schedule for when to call or video chat every one individually
- Clint and sam being soccer moms and giving you a check list of stuff to pack and making sure you do
- Thor is just not having any of it
- Thor holding onto your leg like ‘bitch you going I’m going to’
-eventually Steve gets him off…but then Bucky can’t let his little sidekick go
- tearful goodbyes
- momma!steve
- “call me when you get there, and call us everyday, and If you want to come back I will not hesitate to get you immediately, NO BOYS! And we love you”
-long hug
- “come on (y/n) we have a long journey ahead of us”
- “coming professor Xavier”
-mouthing ’ I love you guys’ before the elevator closes
- Tony, Bucky, and Thor crying for days until you call “LADY (Y/N) I MISS YOU”

Daddy Drabbles #11

- You tell Bucky you’re pregnant - Based off this

Squeezing the soft plum in your hand, you make sure to pick the best ones for your husband. Despite you trying to find the best of the fruit, he always claimed nothing would beat the plums in Romania. You laughed softly to yourself at the memory, bringing the few plums to the check out. Gripping the small paper bag you head back home.

“I’m home!” you call out opening the door, dropping your bag near the entrance. Bucky emerges from the bedroom a picture of comfort in his baggy sweats and cosy sweater. With a small smile, you walk towards him hiding the bag behind your back. He mirrors your smile taking a few steps to meet you.

“Hi” he pecks you before he raises his brow in curiosity, leaning slightly to get a look behind your back.

“Close your eyes, hands out” you order, much to his amusement.

“This feels familiar” he smirks but does as you say.

You shake your head at his antics as your heart leaps at his utmost trust in you. Carefully, you pull a single plum out placing it in his outstretched hands. You put the bag on a nearby table and watch as his brows furrow. His hands stay still as he speaks, “this isn’t going to be last time when you put a caterpillar you found in my hand is it?” his nose scrunches slightly and you think it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You let out a laugh, cupping under his hands with yours.

“I promise it’s not, open your eyes” you say softly as he opens them. Delight dances in his cerulean eyes as they land on the tiny plum in his hand. He runs his right thumb over the purple flesh before his eyes meet yours once more.

“Doll, we already have plums. I went to that market with Steve that’s only open on Saturdays-” but you cut off his rambling.

“That’s the size of our baby” biting your lip nervously, you wait for his reaction.

Tears begin to glaze over his eyes, a tiny whimper escaping his lips as your words sink in. “Our baby, you-you mean- we’re going to have a baby?” his voice trembles, eyes travelling down to the plum which he cradles in his cupped hands before moving back up to yours. “I’m going to be a dad?” he whispers and you nod, your own tears flowing down your cheeks. A heartbeat passes before he kisses your lips passionately, his hand moving to your belly.

“Our own little plum” he murmurs with a watery smile.

FP Jones x Reader- Figure it out

Thank you anon for the request! As I stated before everyone in this fic is legal age, and the reader will be older than Jug. I also made it so FP was young when he had Jug, but there was still a large gap.

Anyway I am so so sorry this was late. Aaaaah I hate that this was so late. I hope I wrote it to your standards and you like it ^^ If not please let me know and I will try to fix it. Also thank you so, so much for the well wishes you sweetheart <3 Hope you are doing well anon!

I don’t know yet if I will continue to allow age differences like this in my writing as I wasn’t too keen on writing it. I wasn’t a big fan but I did want to get this one written, as I said I would

Warnings: Age difference, swearing, implied smut

Words: 2160


Keep reading

Signs as things my ex said to me

Aries- “you know how they have daddy kinks, we should make an uncle kink.”

Taurus- “it sure is pretty hot out here, sweating a storm”(it was 10 degrees)

Gemini- “I wish my neck was as long as a giraffes, maybe then people would get out of my way”

Cancer- “you kind of look like a dead corpse today”

Leo- “pet me like you wanna give me a bath”

Virgo- “whether I die or not this will be fun”

Libra- “I bet you’re only wearing that eyeshadow to hide your eye bags”

Scorpio- “I’m literally smiling through the pain”(talking about how his mac and cheese wouldn’t cool right)

Sagittarius-“ if you don’t want a stupid answer then don’t ask a stupid question”

Capricorn- “I’m tired of eating carrots to make my eye sight better when alcohol can make my vision double anytime”

Aquarius- “im a dolphin…bark”

Pisces- “don’t underestimate the power of orangutans. ”

Meet Me Inside -  Part 1

Masterlist | Part 2 

Relationship: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You really wanted your last year to go without a hitch so you could finally get your Masters degree. But then Professor Barnes walks in to your lecture. And he makes it a whole lot harder to focus. 

A/N: I finally had some inspiration thanks to a request I’ve had sitting in my inbox for ages. And i’m so excited.

Warnings: None for this part. 

Words: 2134

Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

Rubbing the fatigue from your eyes, you groan as you roll over, picking up your phone and squinting as the screen shines far too brightly while you turn off your alarm and drop the phone back on to your bedside table.

“Last year” you mutter to yourself repeatedly as you roll out of bed and get ready.

Only one more year and you’d finally finish your Masters Degree. The thought, however, was always threatened to be dampened by the realisation that you’d need to make plans for what you would undertake after you graduate, but you pushed the thought aside whenever it threatened to linger.

Although you’d refused the offer to go out the night before, you had stayed awake for much longer than you should have and it showed. Your eyes were puffy and dry from lack of sleep.

“Last year” you mutter to yourself once more.

As was routine, you tie your hair back, dress in whatever is clean, grab your phone from the bedside and your bag from beside the door, locking your apartment as you leave.

Keep reading



How to flirt 101

Hey, Love bugs! Fluff.

Hey, can you do a blurb about how Dan/Phil flirt? :^)

Dan’s flirting techniques.

-Name calling. This includes things like calling you a little shit, pet, a total flop. They are all meant to be a cute way to tease you.

-If the two of you go to the movies he absolutely does the not so smooth arm on the shoulder thing.

-When he see’s you he always has his big grin on making him blush internally for being so happy to see you. The internal dialogue of him telling himself to calm down or he will scare you off.

-Pushing you softly when you make him laugh or be awkward.

-Being very protective when the two of you are in public. No, you’re not dating but that guy was being a real git.

-“Why on earth did you by me this expensive ass thing?” “Because you deserve it.”

-If the two of you are on the couch he always finds a blanket to cover you up because if you even look cold, he is on that shit.

-Laying in his bed staring at the ceiling talking about random topics late into the evening.

-Grabbing your hand when he’s feeling nervous then apologising for the randomness. You of course never minding.

-Hiding notes in your bag that make you smile.

Phil’s flirting techniques.

-Him sitting next to you on the couch accidently touching your hand. You, of course, grab his hand looking up and smiling at him.

-Telling you terrible puns hoping you laugh.

-Phil gives you pointers while playing Mario Cart so you can win.

-Spoiling you with little gifts randomly because when he saw it he thought of you.

-Brushing your hair away from your face, then blushing because he didn’t realise how naturally he just reaches to tuck that strand behind your ear.

-He always looks for excuses to see you. Borrowing movies with each other. Most of the time the two of you are watching them together on the couch because how have you not seen that yet?

-Always holds the door for you. It doesn’t matter if your 20 feet behind him. He will wait there holding the door like a nerd until you get there.

-Random facts all the time. He almost always makes a little awkward laugh after because sometimes his weird thoughts just slip out.

-Always complimenting something about you. They start with things like your outfit and move to how pretty your eyes are.

The Secret (10)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; epilogue.

You tried not to be hurt by Baekhyun’s rejection, to carry on as normal and focus your attention on Zoe, but when you were alone with nothing to distract you, your mind seemed to drift back to the moment he walked out of your apartment. That night, you cried for what felt like hours until you were empty, reflecting on the mess you’d made of your life. And then in the morning, you woke up to Zoe singing in her bedroom and pushed your feelings to the side.

Keep reading

You are My Heaven Pt 2 [End] (Steve Rogers fic)

Characters: reader, Steve, Sam, Natasha (mentioned), Maria Hill

Summary: Falling for a good man, who happened to be her training partner, was unavoidable. What if you can’t stay away, even after heartbreak? Is it possible to be friends with some one you’ve fallen for? Life rarely unfolds the way we hope it would. (Events take place after CATWS)

Warnings: lil fluff, lotta angst. Heartbreak. I’m sorry.

Word Count: 2.8k

Song Inspiration: Litost by X Ambassadors

Tags are at the bottom

A/N: This one hurt. Once again, I drew from my own personal experiences, so it took a lot out of me to write. I hope you enjoy it? I’m considering an epilogue, so let me know if that is of interest! Please let me know your thoughts! Special thanks to @buckyywiththegoodhair for helping edit. Bless you!  

<<<Part One   Part Two   Epilogue>>>



Originally posted by from-wizards-to-soldiers

The next morning after a maximum of 3 hours sleep, you dabbed on some concealer to hide bags under your eyes and got dressed. Hopefully you could blame your ‘illness’ on not looking your best. Once you arrived, it seemed you didn’t have to worry. Apparently Nat was a little too good at telling the story that you’d been sick. When you walked into work, everyone was shocked that you were “up and around” so soon. It was like you had the plague or something.

Assuring everyone you were fine, the office was back to business as usual. However, partway through your first day back, a mission report update arrived from Steve. Upon seeing the email, your breath quickened with a twist of your still-tender heart. You sought refuge in the bathroom until the pain in your chest subsided and tears dried. 

The rest of your week passed without incident, the only unusual being your lack of visiting the gym. Even without Steve there, too many memories lingered. You kept yourself distracted by catching up on work and spending time with the other Avengers. That weekend, you actually made an effort to go out with friends and socialize. The pain in your chest still lingered, but less sharply than before.

Keep reading

You can't hide it.

You can’t hide your extreme weight loss.
You can’t hide your protruding ribs and elbows, your skinny and arms and sharp fingers
You can’t hide your broken and discolored nails,
You can’t hide your yellowish and dry skin
You can’t hide your massive bags under your eyes.
You can’t hide sleeping all the time.
You can’t hide your ‘secret’ binges at 2 am.
You can’t hide your diminishing social life.
You can’t hide your awful bad breath .
You can’t hide your fear of eating in public. You can’t hide the fact that you are not actually vegan.
You can’t hide your self harm scars.
You can’t hide a growling tummy begging for food.
You can’t hide your lack of memory and poor concentration.
You can’t hide your failed classes.
You can’t hide the fact that your lying about everything.
You can’t hide your depressed mood.
You can’t hide your lost period.
You can’t hide fainting at the gym
You can’t hide your fear of mirrors.
You can’t hide comparing yourself to other skinny girls.
You can’t hide your addiction to exercise.
You can’t hide the 17,8975 cups of tea you have a day.
You can’t hide your energy drinks and peppermint chewing gums.
You can’t hide cutting your food into 36754347 pieces.
You can’t hide checking the labels of every food product.
You can’t hide your obsession with weight loss diets and diet pills.
You can’t hide the chunks of hair you lose.
You can’t hide your knowledge of the nutritional value of any food product.
You can’t hide your hairy face.
You can’t hide the packs of laxatives.
You can’t hide your thinspo blogs and proana sites.
You can’t hide your old jeans you can’t use anymore
You can’t hide your bruised knees
You can’t hide your cold hands
You can’t hide your constipation and bloating.
You can’t hide your artificial sweeteners.
You can’t hide your shaky handwriting You can’t hide being cold, even in summer

You can’t hide your eating disorder, because everyone else is also affected by your behavior. Recover for yourself, but also for the people around you that see you dying.

Sugar Daddy (Jungkook x Reader)

@yameme HERE’S YOUR DADDY JUNGKOOK SMUT. CALLIN’ YOU OUT. HAAHA. enjoy~ I hope I did well~

Genre: Smut

Paring: Jungkook x Reader

Words: 2,545

Warnings: Daddy kink, fingering, dirty talk, etc.

Originally posted by jjks

You’re a pretty average college student…sort of.

You receive passing grades, have a nice group of friends, and attend class regularly. But…you don’t live in a dorm, and you don’t have a ‘job’. Strangers reactions are always confused when you tell them that—because how can you survive when you’re not making money?—and usually they just assume your parents are wealthy and are putting you through school. And sure, your parents are lending you a hand in paying tuition costs, but they’re not that generous. Or rich.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket is what knocks you out of your daydreaming, and you flinch, eyes flickering to where your professor is standing in front of the white board. Luckily, he doesn’t catch your slip up—the rule of the room being that phones must be on silent—and you slyly pull the device out from the pocket of your bag.


Come over after your class. I’ll buy you those heels you wanted the other day.

Licking your lips, you stare at the words on the screen for a good minute, your thighs unconsciously rubbing together in anticipation. Usually you meet at night—after Jungkook is done with his days, and you’ve finished your classes—but he wants to meet now? In the middle of the afternoon?

You try not to smile, imagining how worked up something must of made him today for him to ask of you out of the blue like this. However, nonetheless, you reply that you’ll be over soon and deposit your phone back into your bag, hiding your excitement behind your hand for the remainder of the class.

When your professor finally dismisses you, you don’t waste a moment before grabbing your bag and bustling out of the room—your knee-length dress fluttering behind you.

Exiting the building, you hurriedly make your way to the usual rendezvous point, smiling when you spot a familiar black car parked in the pick-up area for students. As you approach the vehicle the lock on the back door pops up, and you scoot inside, setting your bag on the ground and flashing a polite look to the familiar, well-dressed driver.

“Miss,” he nods in acknowledgment and then shifts gears, pulling away from the university and starting towards the middle of the city. Cars bustle up and down the street, and you stare out the tinted window along the practically memorized route.

You’d traveled to Jungkook’s residence far too many times now…

Pulling up to the building, you ready your bag and thank Jungkook’s driver for the ride, stepping out of the car and kicking the door closed behind you. Gliding across the lobby of the luxurious apartment building, you step into the elevator and press the button for the floor you need, silently leaning against the railing and waiting as the doors slide closed.

You hate to admit it but your panties are already feeling quiet damp, your mind having conjured up many…images along the ride. Obviously, your relationship with Jungkook isn’t exactly…a romantic, two-kids-in-love type relationship. It’s more….business.

Teasing, sex, hungry eyes, wandering hands, payment. He’s the reason you don’t work. The reason you have far more nice clothing and items than a college student needs. He’s your dark knight—which you had happened to meet about a six months ago, in the dark depths of a club on the far end of town. But more so than a dark knight, he’s your…sugar daddy.

You can’t help shake your head at the term. It hardly feels right, considering that he’s only in his late 20’s, but—technically speaking—you are his sugar baby. His very much beloved, very much called upon sugar baby.

At first you’d been doubtful of his proposal when he’d told you about it on the cold street outside the night club—your car engine shot and no way to get home. He’d offered you a ride, which had turned into a drunken, passionate make-out in the backseat, and then a re-route to his house. When you woke the next morning you had barely remembered what had happened, but you remembered Jungkook—how could you not? He was more stunning than a marble statue in an art museum.

“Let me take care of you,” he had said, brushing your hair out of your eyes, touch gentle, and without thinking much you had agreed.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:


“i have a secret”

the loud laughs from geoff who was sitting across the table, could be heard throughout the restaurant.

shawn decided he wanted to take his team and family out for a nice dinner to celebrate the end of his tour, and of course you came along. as soon as you arrived you excused yourself to use the washroom before anyone started ordering and that’s where you were currently.

you stood in front of the mirror, trying to come up with an excuse for why you couldn’t have any type of alcoholic beverage tonight. you were sure shawn would notice something was wrong, you never turned down alcohol.

you had just found out this morning that you were pregnant but you wanted to keep it from shawn for a bit. even though you were married, and the two of you weren’t not trying to have a baby, you weren’t sure how he would react.

unfortunately, you forgot about the dinner he had planned for the night.

“y/n,” aaliyah’s small figure opened the door. “are you okay in here?”

she opened the door all the way, he mother following behind her. they entered the small bathroom before you could hide the test in your bag.

“is that..?” aaliyah asked, taking the
stick from your hands. “no way! everyone was wondering why you were taking so long in here, i guess i know why.”

karen’s eyes lit up with excitement when she saw the two pink lines, “does shawn know?”

you shook your head, taking the test from her and hiding it at the bottom of your purse.

“oh y/n, you have to tell him soon. he’s going to be so excited!” karen says, “i’m so excited”

“i know you are, i am too but i have a secret, so do you. you can’t say anything, okay?”

they nodded before all of you headed back to the table, where the waiter was already taking drink orders.

you smoothed the back of your tight dress before taking your seat next to shawn, luckily aaliyah and karen was sitting across from you.

everyone was ordering some type of wine, except for aaliyah of course, and someone was going to notice something was off about you.

shawn rested his hand on your thigh under the table as the waiter took his order.

“and for you ms?” he asked, flipping his note pad to the second page.

“she’ll have the same thing as me.” shawn butted in before you could place your order.

“what did you get?”

“red wine, why?”

the waiter looked between the two of you before you spoke up again. “it’s okay, i’ll just have some water.”

he nods before walking to the next table to ask for their orders.

everyone returned to their own conversations, aaliyah and karen had a quiet conversation between themselves while shawn fixed his gaze on you.

“y/n, is something wrong? you never turn down wine.”

you sent him a reassuring smile, “i’m just not in the mood for wine tonight, that’s all. don’t worry too much, okay?”

you pecked his cheek before shawn’s crew turned their attention towards you.

“unless, y/n you aren’t pregnant are you?” brian asks with humour in his voice. the rest of the crew laughs with brian, while karen and aaliyah just look at you.

the table eventually went silent once everybody noticed that you, karen, and aaliyah were the only ones not laughing, along with shawn who continued to stare at you.

“how funny,” you nervously laugh, you weren’t sure how to get out of this.

“y/n,” shawn breaks the silence. you look away, suddenly becoming interested in the wood floors. he placed two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“are you pregnant?”

you slowly nodded, trying to find a hint of expression in shawn’s unreadable face.

“you’re kidding.”

slowly, the biggest smile crept on to shawn’s face as he pulled you in to his arms. it was easy since you two were on the booth side of the table.

“i’m gonna be a dad!”

brain, who was sitting next to shawn, patted his back while congratulating him.

shawn kissed the top of your head multiple times, whispering how happy he was and that he loved you.

he finally released his grip on you, and repeatedly kissed you as the rest of the table playfully gagged.

“so there’s a baby, in your stomach, right now?” he asked, placing his large hand over your abdomen.

“small, but yes.”

you leaned your head against his shoulder, as you answered questions from everybody about your news.

“you know what this means?” geoff asked, “shawn can wear dad hats for real now!”

“yes!” shawn cheered, high-fiving geoff.

you laughed at him, “believe it or not babe, i’m gonna wear them all the time now.”

Candids [Jason x Photojournalist!Reader]

A/N: Soz about not getting this up right away and I apologize even more in advance if this was shite. This is my second draft and a repost (due to errors) so I hope it’s alright. 

Y/N = your name.

One perk that came with being a freelance photojournalist meant you got to take cool candids for your blog. One perk that came with being a freelance photojournalist in Gotham, meant you got to take cool candids of the city’s very own vigilantes in action for your very dedicated blog.

People often asked you why you didn’t work with any of the news agencies like Gotham Gazette or GNN but you had, as an intern and you hated the working conditions. You were on call 24/7 and your deadlines were tight and sometimes you were out for hours following the action. Instead, you ended up selling some of your photos to them whenever they need material.

Now you worked on your own terms and your blog was decently successful. People from all over read your articles and shared your work, even though it was mostly just you gushing professionally about Batman and his group of birds and bats.

You had gotten a cold from lack of sleep and a stakeout at the docks from last week so you hadn’t been keeping up your blog, but the feeling of drowsiness and constant hacking of your lungs had lessened over the past few days so you decided it was time to get back into the kick of things.

Talk on social media said Nightwing was apparently back in town so you wanted to try and get some good shots of him before he went back into hiding. With your gear bag, you headed out for your hunt.

Two hours had passed on your stakeout and so far, all you had were a couple shots of the Pioneer’s bridge from your spot. You looked around through your camera and noticed someone sitting on the ledge of the clock tower a few blocks from you. You couldn’t tell who it was but you were hoping it was Nightwing.

You drove over and located the back door, instantly regretting your decisions when you noticed how many flights of stairs you had between you and your destination.

“The things I do for my blog…” You sighed as you tried to quicken up your pace before you missed Nightwing. The door to rooftop was alright slightly ajar so you quietly pushed it open to see if someone was still out there and to your surprise, they were.

You had been hoping it was Nightwing, but it wasn’t. It was the Red Hood in all his glory, sitting next to the gargoyle. He was dressed in his usual leather jacket and red helmet. He looked to almost be, pondering about something. You quickly uncapped your camera and got your angle right but what you had forgotten to do was turn off your flash.

You should have been more careful but it was too late to fix your mistake because the bright light had caught the vigilante’s attention and before you knew it, you were being held at gun point. The Red Hood stood against the ledge he was previously occupying with a gun aimed directly at you.

You let out a yelp of surprise as your camera fell against your abdomen and your hands came up in surrender.

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?” The Red Hood shouted as you tried to take a step back. That was your second mistake because he clicked off the safety lock of his gun and you knew if you dared to move another muscle, the next click wouldn’t be the safety lock returning to place.

You had heard the stories of the Red Hood and although it seemed less terrifying over your computer screen, you were nearly wetting your pants at the sheer thought of what he could do. “I-I don’t work for anyone! I’m a freelance journalist!”

“A what?” He asked and you trembled in your spot.

“A freelance journalist, I take photos of Gotham’s vigilantes and write articles about you guys on my blog.” You replied as you tried to sound brave but that wall came tumbling down as the masked vigilante walked up to you, gun still pointed. You whimpered as you closed your eyes.

Is this how you were going to die? Is this what they call “death on the job” because you’re not sure whether this is how you wanted to go.

You were sure he was going to blow your brain to mush with a click of the trigger but instead, you heard a slight snort and the gun being put back into his holster.

You opened your eyes slowly and looked up at the man in front you. You only ever got shots of him from far away but wow, was he ever tall and bulky…

“So you’re a fan? I didn’t know I had those.” He crossed his arms across his chest, adorned in with the red bat symbol.

“Y-yeah?” You wanted to tell him how he was quite well-liked within the community of readers on your blog but your voice faded out before you had the chance. You stood up a little straighter and gave a tiny cough. “My readers quite like you. They question your ethics but I might have accidentally swayed their opinions from that…”

“You’ve written articles about me?”

You were a bit taken back by the question but you nodded anyway, “Well, you are a vigilante, are you not?”

He thought about it for a second before chuckling, “I think I’m more of the anti-hero.”

You cocked your head to the side, capping your camera as you waited for an answer.

“I kill people and last I checked, everyone else sort of just injures them or knocks ‘em out for the cops to deal with.”

“But you’re still doing for the city, even if it’s not ethical… per say, you still get rid of the bad guys.” Red Hood shrugged in response.

The two of you stood in awkward silence for a couple seconds before he spoke up. “Do you have any cool candids of me to share?” You looked up in surprise and all though you couldn’t see his face, it sounded like he was smiling.

The two of you walked over to the ledge and you went through your camera, showing him the photos you had of him on your memory card. He took the time to admire them and ask about your job. It didn’t come as a surprise that he was a nice guy, but his funny personality kind of did. He joked around with you and even shared a few laughs and by the end of the night, you had long forgotten about why you even came up here in the first place.

He didn’t talk much about himself except how he died once and this was one of his favourite places to come when he wanted time alone to think or take up the view of the city, although he was very adamant you did not disclose that information to anyone. You zipped your lip and threw the invisible key, to which he laughed at.

Depicting body language came with the job as a writer and from the way he moved when he talked about himself, you could take from that the life of being an “anti-hero” was pretty lonely. You wanted to ask him for his opinion about relationships as a vigilante but thought better than to impede on his personal life.

He also took the time to apologize for holding you at gun point but you just brushed him off telling him you should be the one apologizing for trying to sneak up on him like that.

The two of you just hung out side by side as you took some quick photos of the view. Out of your peripheral vision, you could see Red Hood trying to take subtle glances at you, but you pretended not to notice. He was probably looking at something else or still tense from you sneaking up on him. After all, he was trained to be wary and vigilant of people and surroundings.

“Uh, I should probably head home to write my article… Plus you have a city to protect and all.” You smiled awkwardly as you packed up your stuff.

“Yeah, thank you for keeping me company.” Red Hood nodded along before looking around. “Do you have a safe way home?”

“I got my car downstairs.” You pointed your thumb at the door and started walking backward. “I guess I’ll see you around, don’t die again!”

The two of you shared a nod and you left. A hand came up to your chest as you bent over to breathe once the door was closed. Really? Don’t die again? Who the hell says that to a guy who once died? You couldn’t be more mortified at your choice of words, and before you could think anymore, you ran down the steps of the creepy stairs and got in your car to leave.

You spent the remainder of the night writing your article in your dimly lit apartment about how lonely the crime-fighting life can get. You could only assume how hard it was to find love and keep up relationships when you had bad guys going after you and your job consisted of putting yourself on the cusp of death every night. You wrote your thoughts down and checked it for errors before attaching the slightly edited photo of the Red Hood sitting next to his favourite gargoyle, Francis as he called it, before publishing it.

Over the course of the next few days, reads and comments poured in on your post, some agreeing with you and others asking where you got your “source” from. Many were amazed at how close and personal the photo was, stopping in the comments to ask if you knew him personally. You couldn’t address the last two so you just left them as it was and carried on with your other stuff.

The next time you saw him, you were catching Red Hood taking down a few thugs in Crime Alley. The photos worked out beautifully and you were just about to leave your spot in the alley across when he noticed your camera peeking out. The two of you stared at each other for a split second before you ran out the other side of your alley and drove off. The time after that, he was fighting alongside Arsenal to stop a drug shipment down at the docks. That one was a difficult scene to capture and just when you thought you had a good photo, you realized he had caught you once again and this time gave you a thumbs up in your photo. The fight was getting bad and the sound of more men coming scared you off.

You were still a little embarrassed about your awkward departure so you tried to make sure you always left before the fight was over, to avoid contact with him.

Tonight was a stakeout night so you were back at the rooftop a few blocks from the clock tower. The one that gave you a good view of his gargoyle. It was around two in the morning when you thought you had seen him perched in his usual spot tonight, but when you brought your camera up to your face, the figure was gone.

You were slightly disappointed. You took quite a liking to the red helmet wearing vigilante, but of course, you couldn’t come forth with that kind of confession to someone you didn’t really know and after your awkward departure, you really couldn’t work up the guts to face him again.

You were scoping out the rooftops through your camera, panning over for any signs of the bright red helmet when you turned to the side and yelped as the familiar red bat symbol had come into a close-up view. You let your camera fall against you as you bent over to catch your breath and calm your heartbeat. “Now I know how that feels.”

A chuckle came from him, slightly muffled from his mask but nonetheless loud enough for you to catch. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stood in front of you. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I told you I kept a safe distance from the action. I don’t want to get involved.” You defended yourself as you packed up.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I would protect you if someone else caught you.” The cocky attitude was laced in his words and you couldn’t help but blush.

“Why waste your time?”

“Because who else is going to take sexy candids of me during my fights if Gotham lost their best photojournalist?” He leaned up against the ledge of the building as you stopped for a moment. “I read your article by the way. The one with me and the gargoyle.”

Your eyes widened as you blushed furiously, “And?”

“It was really well-written. You hit the nail right on the head.” He praised you and your heart swelled at his compliment. The Red Hood just complimented your work. The Red Hood read your work. “But to be honest, I wasn’t feeling all that lonely that night. I had you to talk to, and I quite enjoyed our time so it was a shame you never came back to visit. I was expecting you to when you said you would see me around.”

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears as you looked up to meet his masked eyes. “It looks like you’re closing shop for the night but if you get the chance next time, come visit Francis and I. If not, I’ll look for you myself.” And with that, he was gone. You heard him grapple away but you were still in shock from what he said to move.



Tagging: @a-fallen-little-pine-cone @cupoftim 

Complimentary Tag: @kindaace 


Originally posted by lipringsandsnapbacks

     Luke once again knocked on your door repeatedly. He had been standing outside your house for about an hour now knowing good and well that you were at home, but for some reason you weren’t answering the door. Luke let out a huff and looked around at his surroundings before digging into his back pocket. He bent down and pulled out the tools he used to pick locks. Usually Luke never had to break into your house. He was always welcome and the door would be open whenever someone was home, but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Luke slid the metal hook into the lock of the door and inserted the tension. In less than five minutes Luke had managed to break into your house. He smiled in triumph when the sound of the lock clicked. Luke stood and his eyebrows furrowed when he realized how dark inside it was. It was during the middle of the day, four in the afternoon to be exact so with your home being empty it was unusual. Luke shook off his weird feeling and entered inside. He shut the door behind him began to make his way upstairs. Maybe no one was home after all and Luke’s knocking was all for nothing. Luke began to mumble to himself as he flicked on the light in the bathroom. His eyes scanned over the area in search of your makeup bag. When he couldn’t find it Luke groaned in frustration. He began to rummage around; opening cabinets and digging through drawers and even looking in your bath tub. Finally after some time his eyes landed on your makeup bag that was resting behind a few body wash bottles. “There you are,” Luke said, grabbing the gold colored bag. He sat down on the toilet seat lid.

You were woken up by the sound of someone messing about in your bathroom. Your hand reached out to pick up your phone and you clicked on the lock button to turn it on. The bright light illuminating from your phone made your eyes squint. When you noticed all the missed calls from Luke your eyes widened in surprise. You sat up in bed and rubbed at your eyes. With one hand you clicked Luke’s number and flicked on the light with another. The phone began to ring and you suddenly heard a ringtone come from down the hall. Your eyebrows furrowed and you slid out of bed. As your phone kept dialing, the ringing continued. You were confused and ended the call which in turn the ringing ended. “This has horror movie written all over it,” you huffed, exiting your room and following to where the sound had came from. Light slipped through a crack in the door and you peeked inside. You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted Luke’s hair. You pushed open the door making Luke’s head fly up.

“Hey gorgeous,” Luke smiled, slowly trying to hide your makeup bag from your view. 

“Hey…” you slowly said, eyes darting down to the bag. “Did you break into my house? What happened?” you questioned, walking more into the bathroom. You grabbed at his chin to turn his head to the side and inspected his eye. “You got into another fight didn’t you?” you sighed, thumb ghosting over the dark bruise. Luke flinched at the feeling and he grinned at you.

“This time it wasn’t my fault, but i can’t go home with my eye looking like this my mom would freak out,” Luke explained, grabbing a hand mirror from out the drawer and looking at his eye. “It doesn’t seem that bad right?” he questioned, looking at your innocently. Luke’s bottom lip was poked out in a pout . You mimicked his pout and grabbed the makeup bag from out his hands.

“Is that why you were looking through my makeup? For concealer.” you said, “You know I don’t have anything to match your skin tone, but lucky for you my friend left some of her makeup here.” You tossed your makeup bag on the counter and opened one of the drawers. Luke’s legs parted to allow you to step between them. You tilted his head back and uncapped the concealer. “Close your eyes for me,” you instructed, squirting the cream out onto the side of your hand. Luke closed his eyes and soon felt the coolness of the concealer on his skin. “So why did you get into a fight?” you asked, beginning to smooth the makeup under his eye. 

“Uh some dude was talking shit to me and the guys which was no big deal, but then he started to talk about you and I couldn’t have that,” Luke said, opening his eye to give you a wink. You stopped rubbing the cream under his eye and gave him a small glare.

“Do you want me to put this in your eye,” you sighed. Luke shook his head then closed his eyes again. You continued to cover up his eye and finally tossed the makeup back into the drawer. “Okay I’ve finished,” you said, handing over the hand mirror. Luke stared at his reflection for a minute and then smiled. 

“Thank you baby this looks gre-did you put highlighter on me!?!” Luke shouted, looking at you bewilderingly. You stood back and grinned at him. “Y/N that’s not cool I just needed my eye covered,” he whined, quickly following after you once you had ran away. “I can’t walk around with highlight on my face! I got a rep to protect!”   

simple pt. 2 // peter parker

word count: about 4k

a/n: the much requested part two, thank you very much for the encouragement!! tell me if you want a part 3 :) and warning for offensive language <3 once again unedited bc i’m lazy

part 1



When you’re in love, the world suddenly feels like a better place. Okay, maybe you don’t want to use the word ‘love’ to describe a relationship with a person you’re just getting to know. You just like him a lot. Scenes of Peter’s cute little grin and his eyes crinkling when he smiles flash in your head. And now, you can call him whenever you want.

But you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be able to call him quite yet. You know you’re going to be too tired by the time you take off your suit. And you still have your homework on top of that. In your hierarchy of priorities, first comes being a superhero, next comes school, and then Peter. Though sometimes the line between the first and second blur. You might not even be able to call him tomorrow as you promised, much to your dismay. But as much as your heart wants to put Peter above everything else, you know better than to be irrational like that.

You’re still happy that you got somewhere with him, though. You just hope he’ll understand that you get busy.

You practically skip down the street with your earbuds in, feeling a little bit crazy for doing so but hardly caring. You hurry into your usual alleyway and set your bag down. You tuck away your phone and earphones into your backpack and slide off your clothes. As you do so, you think you hear a noise and turn around to face the street. You see nothing, strangely enough. You change a little faster and slide on your mask. Shoving your street clothes away, you hide your bag. You wait on the roof, hoping the sound you’d heard was just a figment of your imagination.You can’t afford to have your alter ego exposed to the public when you want to keep on the down low.

Soon enough, Spider-Man swings his way up and takes his seat beside you swiftly. “S/N!”

You look over at him and smile, once again forgetting that your mask hides your expressions. “Spidey, there you are!”

“Why do you call me Spidey? I always honor you by calling you by your whole name.” He opens his hand to reveal two silver Kisses. “A kiss for you, a kiss for me.”

You don’t know if this is a sly way of hinting at something, but you take it anyway. You unwrap it and carefully slide your hand under your mask to eat it. “Spidey is cute, don’t you think? Spider-Man sounds intimidating, like you’re an Avenger or something.” He looks away from you. Realizing what you just said, you curse internally. “Don’t take it that way. It’s just…if you become one of the Avengers…I won’t have you with me.” He turns to look at you again, tilting his head to the side slightly.

You pause. “I know how selfish that sounds, when the world needs saving and all. But I like this. Talking to you while I beat people up. Buying you churros. Having a friend that gets my struggles. I don’t want to lose you.” Your throat tightens at the thought of doing this whole hero thing alone. You gaze down at the ground far below, at the cars rushing by and people going about their day. You don’t even know if you’d be able to do this without Spider-Man in your ear making you laugh off the pain that comes with the job. He’s your support system.

“S/N, you’ll never lose me. I’ll still be friendly neighborhood Spider-Man when the entire world doesn’t need me. It’s okay! Even better, you can keep buying me as many churros as you want.”

You give a sad little laugh, trying not to choke up. He doesn’t understand. That’s how good of a guy he is. “Don’t you get it, Spidey? It’s not that simple. Being one of them isn’t going to be the same. You won’t be fighting weak idiots who decided to rob a bank. Not only will you get hurt, but so will your loved ones. There are dangerous people out there, ones that you might not be ready for. And people might die. I know that this is all going to torment you, because as much as you’ll want to, you won’t be able to save everyone.”

“I don’t know why you’re worrying about me so much all of a sudden. I can take care of myself, believe it or not. I’m tired of people treating me like a little kid. First, it’s Mr. Stark, and now you. Don’t you get it? I have this opportunity to do something I’ve always wanted to do. Save people and be a hero, with my heroes.”

You realize now that this is a dream come true for him. He isn’t going to let you get in the way of that. He’ll have to see for himself, and realize that you’re right on his own. Maybe that’s just his fate, for his innocence to be stripped away by reality at fifteen. Just the thought of it makes you feel like the scum of the earth.

“I’m not saying you have to do anything. This is all up to you. I’m just reminding you not to get blinded by your love for the Avengers and make yourself aware of the dangers.” He stares at the horizon, hopefully thinking about what you said. “Anyway, we should get going. It’s getting late.”

He stands up quickly and pulls you up. For the longest time, you stare at each other. Sometimes, you wish you could rip the mask off his face just so you could figure out what he’s thinking. It’s so hard guessing through the voice filters.

You’re trying your hardest to understand Spider-Man, so you slowly wrap your arms around him in an embrace. You rest your forehead on his shoulder. He hugs you back tightly as he mumbles, “I just wish you’d come with me. Then you could meet Mr. Stark and then he’d probably make some deadpan joke about teenagers in the Avengers and you’d think it’s the funniest thing ever.”

You snort, feeling a tear roll down your cheek under the mask. “Teenage Mutant Ninja Avengers.”

“That’s exactly what I mean, S/N! You’d get along with him so well. Please, think about it. For me?” He pulls away to look at you, hands on your shoulders.

You groan and shove him away. “You can’t pull that card on me. You’re my Kryptonite.”

“I am? What about that guy you like?”

“He’s amazing. And everything I could ask for, honestly. He gave me his number today.”

He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, h-he did?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know when I’ll ever get time to call him, y'know. With the whole…” You motion to your suit.

“Well, what about me?”

A beat. “What about you?”

“You don’t…like me?” You turn to look at him, and remember what you had felt yesterday. You feel a little bad for forgetting about that.

“Of course I do. But the difference between you and Pe - I mean, the guy I like, is that I know him. I don’t know your name, I don’t know how old…wait a second. A minute ago, you said we were both teenagers. How did you know that?” You frown and cross your arms accusingly.

“Uh, I-I think I’d know if I was a teenager or not.”

“Spider-Man,” you say threateningly.

“Okay, okay. I just assumed, 'cause like, you talk about school. And the way you talk, it doesn’t really sound like a college student or anything. You sound like me. So…to me, you felt around my age. It was just an assumption.”

For a moment, you don’t believe it. But then again, you guess it makes sense. You just didn’t expect him to be that observant. Spider senses? You don’t even know if spiders are that keen. The only thing you know is that they’re arachnids and make annoying ass webs in the unreachable corners of your room. You consider reading up on spiders sometime.

“Oh, okay. Uh, what was I saying…? Right. You’re a cute guy, Spidey, but you and I both know we wouldn’t go far without knowing who the other is.” You try to sound as gentle as can, swallowing.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “You’re right. You always are. Uh, it’s getting a little late, we should get going.” He sets a hand on your shoulder, making your heart race a little. You do your best to ignore it.

You nod, smiling a little underneath your mask. “Ready?” You both leap off the edge, eager to get started.

Hours later, you’ve showered and gotten comfortable in your sweats and old t-shirt. You grab your backpack and sit on your bed, digging around for your homework. You find the slip of paper with Peter’s phone number scrawled on it with messy handwriting. Sighing, you stuff it back in. You’re faced with a dilemma of the worst kind. Spider-Man might as well be your best friend. He’s hilarious, daring, and he understands you better than everyone else. But Peter Parker is the boy you’ve liked ever since you laid eyes on him, and you’re just getting to know how funny and sweet he is. Choosing between them simply doesn’t feel like an option.

You know, rationally, that you should choose Peter. Spider-Man is complex and full of secrets and mysteries. But he’s the one who makes you laugh so hard you have tears streaming from your eyes and your stomach hurt. He’s the one you did stupid things with. He’s the shoulder you lean on when you’re upset about something. He deserves more than you can promise.

This just isn’t fair to you. You can’t possibly like both of them. You’re not even polyamorous, dammit. Even if you were, Spider-Man and Peter would have to like each other, too. Yikes. You’re not even sure if…

This is getting too strange for you to think about, so you decide to stop there.

You grab your phone from your bag and scroll through your contacts until you reach the one labeled 'Spidey’ with a spider emoji next to it. You’ve never called him while you’re not out in your suit. You consider calling him for a moment but remember that he told you he had tons of work to do. You scroll back up to 'Iris’ instead and call her.

“Y/N! What’s up?” You hear the familiar excited voice on the other end.

“Iris. Uh, sorry if you’re busy or anything. I just needed someone to, um, talk to.” You cross your legs and lean back against your pillows.

“Oh, yeah, of course. What happened?” Iris asks slowly and seriously.

“Boy trouble. There are two of them, and -”

“Say no more. You’re dealing with a love triangle, right?”

“Wow, yeah, how did you -”

“I just know these things, Y/N. So, spill.”

“I mean, there’s not much else to say. I feel like such an asshole, being in a situation where I’m actually considering choosing.”

“You can’t choose. I think you care too much about people to do something like that.”

“But what else can I do?”

“Well, you actually have a few options. The first would be to abandon both and be miserable. The next would be to accept your assholishness and try to keep both of them. Without the other knowing, that is.” She sounds weirdly calm about this.

You cut her off this time, your expression turning a bit horrified. “Iris, no! Do you have any solutions I can actually, like, go through with?”

There’s a pause. “Uh, not really. But I’ll investigate some more options! And then I’ll -”

“Investigate…wait, that’s it. Iris, thank you so, so much! I really underestimated you, and I stand corrected. Okay bye!” You hang up before she can respond, struck by a sudden idea.

You practically leap off of your bed, ready to start. But as you try and land in cool position, you trip over your desk chair and land with a thud. It looked cooler when Spider-Man did it. You clutch your side, groaning. To no one in particular, you say, “I’m okay!”

You scramble to stand up, rubbing your side for a while before sitting at your desk. Grabbing a notepad, you scribble down words only coherent to you. There are a few things that don’t make sense right now. Spider-Man was being weird today, so maybe if you find out something he hasn’t told you, you can have a reason to keep out to his business. If nothing else, it’s something to do to at least keep you distracted.

By the time you’re finished, it’s late. Papers are littered across your table and your room is somehow more of a mess. Satisfied, you turn to your bed again, ready for the blissful release of sleep. Your eyes fall on your school bag, and the math textbook peeking out of it. “God, why?” you groan, setting your head in your hands.

At school the next day, you feel a little dead inside. You’re sleep-deprived and upset at a million things. You guess it’s just one of those days. But when your eye catches Peter across the hallway, all of that melts away like butter. He’s wearing his blue sweater and has his earphones in as he walks. He doesn’t see you, so you turn away and head to class instead.

The whole day goes by in a daze except for Chemistry. From beside you, Peter says quietly, “No sleep?”

“It’s that obvious, huh?” You twirl your pencil between your fingers, looking at the board.

“Homework wasn’t that bad, was it?” His eyebrows furrow for a moment.

“Well, I, uh…sort of stayed up worrying myself sick about a friend. And then I realized I had homework.”

“What were you so worried about?”

“Nothing that matters.”

Peter doesn’t push further, instead letting the silence sit while you open up the textbook to take notes. Finally, he says, “Oh yeah, I forgot. Um, I gave you the wrong number yesterday. Like, by accident of course. Not on purpose on anything, in case that’s what you were thinking. Not that I think you’d think that. But it was my old number, so -”

“Peter, shut up.”

“O-okay.” He watches you silently as you write down something in your notebook. You look back up at him when you’re done.

“Just give me your new number after class. Don’t stress out.” You give an encouraging smile. You have a feeling he’s trying to hide something, but you don’t bug him about it. He didn’t push you on your secrets, so you let him have his own.

Peter nods and smiles back, sliding his palms against his jeans. He’s so nervous, it’s hard for you to not find it a little adorable. You’re plenty nervous yourself, of course. You’re always an anxious mess around Peter, and your heart rate’s been out of the roof the whole period. You’re just slightly better at hiding it than he is.

“Do you have paper?” Peter asks at the end of class, putting away his books.

“Uh, yeah, I should…” You dig through your bag, taking out some of your things and placing them on the table as you search. “Ah, here we go.” You come up with a piece of paper, glancing at Peter.

In his hand is one of the papers that was in your bag. His eyebrows are furrowed as he shows you the paper. It’s titled 'Things Spider-Man is doing that are weirder than usual’. Your eyes widen as you snatch it away and stuff it into your bag.

“I can explain, but later. I gotta hurry to class,” you say hurriedly.

“Sighing, Peter quickly writes a number down and hands it to you. "Sorry,” you mumble, glancing back at him once more before racing off. Now you need to make a list for Peter too, with the way he’s being today. It’s all very fishy to you.

When you and Spider-Man meet at your spot, there’s no mention about Stark or the Avengers from either of you. You think that’s probably for the best. You continue along as you normally do, making jokes and trying to have fun.

“Which is why the suit works the way it does! It make everything a whole lot easier. Sometimes I just want to take it apart and look at how beautiful the work is. Of course, it’s all by my hand anyway, so I don’t need to take anything apart. I kinda know where everything is.” You excitedly talk about your suit to Spider-Man, explaining mechanical features.

For a few seconds, there’s silence. He finally speaks, sounding as dreamy as someone can with a dumb voice filter in. “I could listen to you all day, S/N.”

“W-What?” You ask, a little taken aback by the sudden comment.

“Hm?” He says, playing innocent. “What was that?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you try not to grin under your mask. Under your breath, you mutter, “Clever little asshole.”

“What?” Comes the response this time.

“Huh? What’d you say?”

Spider-Man starts laughing on the other end, and eventually you join him too.

Incidents like these happen frequently with Spidey over the next few days. Meanwhile, you and Peter seem to keep ending up in mildly embarrassing situations involving each other. You don’t know whether to feel shame or start laughing. You still haven’t gotten around to calling Peter, either.

And then in your own time, you start finding correlations between what Peter says or does and what Spider-Man will say or do. They’re just little things, like Peter scratching the back of his neck when he’s embarrassed and then Spider-Man showing the same habit later on. You don’t know what that means. Are Peter and Spider-Man just very similar? Or is there something else going on? For a while, you think that your good friend Spidey and Peter know each other somehow. That means they might have picked up habits, which explains a lot. But it doesn’t explain everything.

You ponder over this as you start your walk from school. Suddenly, you get a little curious and search around in your backpack. You come up with a crumpled piece of white paper with the first number that Peter gave you and the other paper with the second number. Pulling out your phone, you dial the first number. You don’t expect anything to happen. Who knows, maybe he accidentally gave you the New York Rejection Hotline.

You press the call button. Instantly, the contact name 'Spidey ’ comes up, and your eyes widen. Almost instantly, he answers, voice filtered as always. “S/N, what’s taking you so long?”

You feel numb inside. Your hand drops to your side as you stop in your tracks. People walk around you as you stand still. Through the phone, you can vaguely hear, “S/N? Hello? This damn suit can’t handle a single phone call…”

You hang up and scroll through your contacts to a different phone number, labeled 'Peter Parker’. Sighing, you call him for the first time. “Y/N? I’m sorry, I’m a little busy right now. Can we please, please talk tonight or something? 'Cause that would be cool!”

It’s only then that you come to the realization that you didn’t even consider before. Peter and Spidey are so similar because they’re the same person. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of “either of them” because a part of you recognized that they were two halves of a whole.

You’re suddenly a little angry with Peter. He doesn’t know how you spent the last few days wondering how you could possibly deal with your supposed 'love triangle’ issue. He doesn’t know that you stayed trying to figure out why he was acting so strange. Maybe he was trying to joke with you, but you’re sure as hell not laughing.

“Y/N, are you there? Ugh, what is up with this thing? This connection is crap!”

You hang up again and practically start sprinting towards your alleyway. Not even bothering to change, you easily make your way up to the top of the building. Spider-Man/Peter sits facing away, grumbling about his suit. Suddenly, he stops. You have a feeling he knows you’re here.

You feel the wind from up here whipping through your hair. You kind of imagined this as looking heroic and cool, but your hair’s getting all over your face. Frankly, it’s a little annoying. You tie your hair up instead so that you can actually see when he turns around. But before he can even say anything, you steal the chance.

“Take the mask off, Peter.”

He stands up and slides the mask off. Peter turns to face you, messy brown hair blowing everywhere. His eyes are empty. How does he manage to make the hair thing look good? Does he practice or something?

“I don’t want an explanation. I don’t care if you thought that was a sort of game, to make me stay up almost every night worrying about this or to make me obsessive enough to start writing lists about you. It’s been almost a week of this. I’m tired and I’m done.” You turn away to leave at that, determined to stay in control of your emotions.

“But…what about Queens?” Peter asks hesitantly, looking out at the area. You look out at the people destined to be saved. But now, you don’t think they’re supposed to be saved by you.

“Spider-Man can take care of it until he becomes a big Avenger that doesn’t have time for the neighborhood anymore. Queens doesn’t really need two superheroes.”

Peter obviously has a hard time accepting this. He looks like he could start crying at any given moment, and just thinking about that makes you want to cry too.

When a tear spills down your cheek, you quickly swipe it away with your sleeve.

“Y/N, if you’d hear me out, I…I know you’d get it. I-I never thought you’d get hurt, I thought I was protecting you.” Peter’s voice gets wobbly towards the end. The knot in your stomach tightens, making you feel sick inside.

“Protecting me how? By being the source of my constant and undying anxiety? Yeah, I feel so fucking protected, thanks.” Peter flinches, and you have to look away to continue. “You told me you could take care of yourself. And I backed off. But then you keep this from me, like I can’t do the same. You’re a hypocrite, and you’re a liar.” You clench your fists, fingernails digging into your palms.

He doesn’t stop the tears streaming from his face, rolling all the way down to his chin as he watches you leave his world. You don’t want anything to do with all of this. You just wanted something simple. Of course the most normal looking guy turns out to be fricking Spider-Man. Of course this is the guy you have such a major crush on.

You turn away as hot tears flood your vision. You close your eyes tightly, letting the tears run free. You don’t need any of this. You can’t handle any of this. Peter being Spider-Man crosses your line between simple and convoluted. In fact, this all is at the far edge of the convoluted side.

You walk home as fast as you can. When you get to your room, your take off your suit and fold it up. You place it on your highest shelf, imagining it gathering dust over time. You can’t be a superhero. You can’t save the world just because you have a few cool powers. Maybe that’s not your job to do.

No one is ever as simple as you wish they could be, not even Peter. Maybe you should really take Iris’ idea and leave him alone. It just hurts too much to even think about him. It hurts to imagine how excited he gets about everything and how he never ceases to make you grin.

It hurts too much to love Peter Parker.