they/them 23

Entrusting Him

Summary: After using sex as a stress reliever, Elijah begins to depend on it. Y/N shows him just how much she trusts him, and how much she loved him by giving him full access to her mind, body and soul.

Building a home for a toadlet

Me 1 day later: I need to be left alone to gather the pieces of Me together

summary: as a stark, admitting you were sick and getting help was a fight peter knew he wouldn't win. but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try.

wc: ~2.2k

cw: sick fic baby!!! nothing too descriptive, mentions of IVs/needles (again, not descriptive at all but still), peter has a potty mouth, pining, friends to more than friends vibes, and insane amount of fluff

based on this request!

masterlist and taglist

peter knew the moment you weren't feeling well — he noticed how your heart rate was slightly faster than normal, he'd begun to take note of how your brain fog was ever so heavier than normal. initially, he'd assumed it had been from the stress of your finals coming up, and he knew just how hard you'd been pushing yourself while studying.

but then you started to grow more winded while out on patrol, stopping more often and coughing your lungs out on the roof of an apartment building, muffled excuses of "a bug in your mask," struggling to escape from your lips. he noticed how the color in your face seemed to drain more and more as the week progressed.

now, peter wasn't stupid. you were a stark, and he knew better than to expect you to acknowledge being sick, and he definitely knew better than to say something about it. but as the days passed and the bags under your eyes gained new colors, his concern overrode all precautionary measures.

"hey, are you feeling okay?" peter prodded quietly, the regret prominent in his wavering voice.

you looked up from your notes to give him the exact look he expected. "excuse me?"

"i-i'm just saying! you seem a bit... under the weather. maybe you could take tonight off — i can cover patrol. you know, get some... rest..." peter trailed off as you turned to face him with your arms crossed.

"oh, i'm sorry. i wasn't aware you thought i wasn't capable of doing my job? how dare you even begin to insinuate..."

you launched into an exact speech peter had heard tony give pepper when he'd been in the lab for 72 hours straight. he rolled his eyes at you, raising his hands with a defeated "okay, okay!" as an apology for daring to imply you weren't at 110%.

but it was peter, and he was determined to work around your stubbornness to bring you any sort of relief as you surely began to not get even sicker.

so suddenly, peter became the walking equivalent of a pharmacy, making sure he had anything you could possibly need from tylenol to anti-nausea meds, on the off chance you mentioned the headache you had. he stayed up the next night to override his own protocols into FRIDAY, ensuring that your room had proper air filtration, a stable temperature, and the lighting was never too bright for you. he practically bought delmar's out of their tissue supply, nonchalantly stocking each room of the tower so you'd never be out when you needed one.

and above everything else, he was at your hip nearly 24 hours a day.

the two of you had grown close over the years since he joined the team, and it was no secret how inseparable a pair you were. so it was no surprise to anyone when peter hung from your frame at every interaction, dotting on your every need. seeing you miserable made him miserable, and he was determined to help you any way he knew how, especially as you both prepared for your finals.

you tried to not notice it, and tried to not acknowledge that he was, in fact, helping you. but each act of service he sent your way only softened your heart for him more.

similarly, two problems had now been posed to peter over the last week.

one: he was beginning to discover that the more he was around you, the more domestic moments and downtime he had with you, the harder he was falling for you. what was once a silly crush he often brushed off was blooming into something much deeper.

two: peter was now also sick. but he'd be damned if he showed it before you did.

so he broke into his own med stash he had specifically for you, gummed cough drops in secret, and prayed to tony himself that you didn't question why he was wearing a hoodie in july.

after two straight days of essays and presentations, both of you were knocking on death's door. by now, fever's had spiked, and an overall state of delirium had set in.

you stood in tony's lab with peter, mindlessly scrolling through files on your dad's computer as peter tinkered with his suit. you looked over to him as he let out a sharp curse, hands shaking as he held a needle and thread with pricked fingers.

he looked awful, in the kindest way possible, and you could only imagine that you looked worse. a thin layer of sweat covered peter's shaking body, skin lifeless and without a tinge of color, except for under his sunken eyes. even his hair had lost all vitality; his normally curly locks had gone flat and stuck damply to his forehead.

the words on the screen in front of you grew blurry and jumbled, and suddenly, the urge to get to the nearest bathroom took over your body like a primal need you had no control over. you stood from your stool too quickly, though, knees immediately buckling and sending you falling to the floor.

peter caught you at the last second, his arms firmly around your waist as he stared at you with wide eyes, panting from the panic that had overtaken his chest.

you stared at him for a moment as he didn't let you go, thankful your fever was hiding the flush on your cheeks as his hands burned holes in your sides. but the butterflies were soon squashed with guilt as you saw the concern in his eyes, and you knew this had gone on long enough.

with a heavy sigh and bruised ego, you finally looked at him with all energy to fight lost. "i think it's time to get some help."

peter had you wrapped around his waist, and you were swung down to the med bay before your vertigo even had time to set in.

the next few hours had been excruciatingly long. you'd been separated from peter and taken for testing. but, after far too many needles and an insane amount of imaging, you were back to a room that was conveniently shared with peter.

and he looked just as worn down as you felt.

the nurse helped you into your bed and checked in with peter before leaving the two of you alone to rest.

you heard a soft chuckle coming from a few feet to your right, "well, don't you look like shit."

"as if you look any better-" your voice cracked, and you grimaced, raw throat knocking you down to a whisper. "parker."

peter gave you a sympathetic smile before tossing you a cough drop.

the evening dragged on with quick remarks and soft groans filling the sterile room until a knock on the door quieted your conversations.

"everyone decent in there?" you heard your dad through the door as it slowly creaked open.

in popped tony and steve, concern adorning their features as they took both of your frail figures in.

"guess not," steve gave with a chuckle. "how you kids feeling?"

you gave him a pout and a shrug as peter struggled to sit up further. "i think i recovered quicker from being hit by that train in germany. what's in the bag, mr. stark?"

your eyes drifted to tony, who held a paper bag in his hands.

"soup's on! wanda was worried about you, i guess. not sure why, you've never looked better." he tossed you a soft wink. "bug boy bothering you yet? i can have him moved to solitary confinement, you know. not sure what this whole... arrangement here is."

you rolled your eyes at him, holding your arms out for the bag he was holding. you hadn't been able to keep food down in days, and the mere thought of homemade soup right now? magic or not, you were positive that anything made from wanda would heal you instantly.

tony passed out dinner to both of you while steve went over what you'd missed from the mission briefing earlier that day. you struggled to get the lid off your soup container, muscles feeling weaker than ever. peter, however, was far too out of it to remember his own strength.

immediately on opening the lid, his stomach was covered in steaming dumpling soup.

"holy fuck! oh my fucking god, fuck, what the actual fuck—"

"peter! language!" steve scolds, wide-eyed from the string of curse words leaving the teenager's mouth like a sailor. both starks, however, found the entire thing hilarious.

you ate your dinner, thankful at the warmth spreading throughout your core. peter was less thankful about the warmth on his core, embarrassed as steve helped him change into a new shirt through the mess of IVs and wires. you looked over as the clothing was slipped over, noticing how his tight chest was glistening with a thin layer of sweat, and you blamed your fever for how hot the visual made you.

after getting resituated, the men made their goodbyes and left you alone to rest and finish your dinner, though, not before tony came back in with a makeshift bib for peter (and took a picture against heavy protest). the rest of the evening was calm, both of you growing tired after a warm meal and the dim lighting of the room, now only illuminated by the soft glow of Seinfeld reruns on the TV.

it didn't take long for you to drift off, as you didn't have the strength in you to be stubborn anymore. peter, unfortunately, was not as lucky. he laid there for another two hours, awake and alone in his battle against his nausea and sore throat.

fortunately for you, however, he was awake to notice as you started to shiver in your sleep. peter heard the soft shaking of your sheets and looked over to you, his heart feeling heavy as he took note of just how violently you were shaking under three blankets. he heard the shift in your breathing, signaling you were beginning to wake from your chills, and the chattering of your teeth drowned him in a guilt that overrode his better judgment.

peter moved to sit up, swinging his feet over the bed and cursing quietly as he snagged his IV tubing. he took hold of the pole connected and rose to his feet, using all his strength to shuffle his way over to your bed. each movement he made was hesitant, unsure if he was making a move that would cross a line. but you were miserable, and he couldn't stand to see it anymore.

he made it to your bedside, head hanging low and voice wavering, "i'm only doing this because it's medically necessary."

peter slowly began to sit down next to you, soft groans escaping his lips as he lowered himself. you took the hint and rolled your eyes, though not before scooting over to make room for him. he wormed his way under your pile of blankets, doing his best to wrap his arm around you and pull you close to his chest without snagging either of your cords.

you hated to admit it to yourself, but you instantly felt warmer.

and you hated that peter could also tell, because you stopped shivering nearly on impact.

you could feel him smirk against your head as he snuggled into you, a soft, "i'm that good, huh?" falling on your ear.

you nudged him in the side, earning a low groan in response. "whatever, keep it in your pants, perv."

peter made a comment in retaliation, but as you felt his weight and warmth against you, you could feel your consciousness slipping again. everything about being in his arms made you feel safe and the best you'd felt this whole week. you could hear that peter was following suit, his quiet breath in your ear mellowing to a steady rhythm as he felt himself relax for the first time that day.

just as he was almost out cold, and definitely delirious from the fever, he leaned forward to just slightly press a warm kiss to your frigid ear. "i really am glad you're feeling better, you know. thank you for letting me get you some help."

you gave him a smile he couldn't see, but hoped he could sense in the way your heart skipped a beat. you felt around for his hand on your stomach, giving it a tight squeeze. as you opened your mouth to thank him in return, though, you felt the coming of a series of sneezes.

"pete, do you think you can grab me some tissues from my tray?"

he nodded against you, barely conscious as he pointed his wrist toward the bedside table and aimed for the tissue box. you heard a soft thwip! and he pulled to retrieve it, smacking you directly in the face.

"PETER BENJAMIN PARKER!"

want to join my taglist?

peter parker x reader

summary: something is wrong with your next door neighbor, and it's up to you to figure it out (from this request)

wc: 2.2k

cw: set in BND so obviously spoilers for NWH. just a lot of whump (happyish ending) with poor peter :( detailed panic attack as well as death mention, SH (aggressive hair pulling during the panic attack) (sorry i like to make peter hurt). reader is gn! so read as you please, also set pre-relationship vibes that could be seen as platonic or in a mutual pining way idc

the first sign that something was off with your next door neighbor, peter parker, showed in his texting.

in the months he'd been in the apartment next to yours, the two of you had grown quite close. it was slow, at first. this meek, fawn of a man who had moved in just before christmas, seemingly closed off to all of your friendly neighbor charms and attempts at passing conversation.

he stood no chance against your grandmother's brownie recipe.

from that cold night in january on, you saw more and more of him open up. you'd gotten his number, and discovered the list of commonalities between the two of you. as he let you into his life more, you started to even find it endearing as he spammed your phone at all hours of the night, your notifications filled with nothing but the fleeting thoughts on his mind he thought to share with you.

but suddenly, a stranger was responding to you; single words replaced his once excited paragraphs to even the most of mudane things.

may 3rd @ 2:35am

you: did you watch the nintendo direct tn???

peter parker (#1304): last night, technically

peter parker (#1304): AND YUPPPP

peter parker (#1304): already calculated how much overtime i’m gonna need to afford the new zelda and mario dlc

peter parker (#1304): see you after summer 😔

you: you literally don’t even have a switch

peter parker (#1304): no but i have the kindest most wonderful neighbor in the whole wide world who does

peter parker (#1304): 🥹

you: why the hell are you even awake rn??

peter parker (#1304): i should ask you the same question, miss.

you: touché

may 4th @ 6:23am

peter parker (#1304): dude dude dude

peter parker (#1304): wake up and look at the sunrise

peter parker (#1304): loooookkkkkkkkkk

peter parker (#1304): lets go to the roof

you: if you send me one more message at this godforsaken hour, i'm going to murder you with my bare hands

peter parker (#1304): like you could even catch me 😏

may 4th @ 12:03pm

you: do you want spaghetti or mac and cheese for dinner tmrw

you: those miiiiiiight be the only two things to my name rn

peter parker (#1304): is it the spongebob mac and cheese

you: yes

peter parker (#1304): oh fuck yeah

may 5th @ 01:12am

you: are you breaking things over there? what the hell was that noise??

peter parker (#1304): lol

you: no like, you good????

read @ 02:45am

may 5th @ 10:48am

you: no fear, i have acquired hot dogs for the mac and cheese

may 5th @ 11:55am

peter parker (#1304): can't tn

you: what!! i spent a dollar fifty on these clearance hotdogs for nothing?? guess i'll have to get food poisoning alone 🙄

peter parker (#1304): lmao

you: everything okay?

read @ 11:59am

the second sign was the fact that he had dodged your weekly tuesday night dinner.

that alone wasn't unusual, as he'd cancelled plenty of times in the few months you'd grown to know peter. the day he swan dove through your window in stark red and blue, mistaking your room for his, you had finally found out why. now when he flaked, he'd attach a local news article of the crime he'd just stopped to his apology text an hour after he was supposed to show up. sometimes, you wouldn't hear from him until he got back just before the sun broke through, knocking on your window in desperate need of whatever medical attention you could offer him.

he had dodged you plenty of times, but today was different. peter texted you around noon, when he was supposedly mid chem-lab, simply saying he wouldn't be able to make it.

it wasn't weird that he bailed on your plans. it was weird that he let you know ahead of time.

but that wasn't what caused you to crawl across your shared fire escape and force your way into his bedroom. no, it was the third thing.

the third thing was the beyond heartbreaking, soul-shattering sobs that you heard come through the wall. paper-thin walls had become a bittersweet troupe to new york, and you often had done your best to respect your neighbors privacy whenever you could hear them and... whatever they were doing. especially peter.

you hadn't heard a noise like this from him before, though.

you were out of your window and onto the fire escape before you even knew your body was moving. climbing over the rusty metal through the dark, crisp night, you fumbled your way to peter's window just a few feet from yours. you'd only done this a few other times (in daylight, mind you), and how he did this multiple times a day was beyond you.

with the fight in your system to get to peter overcoming the flight as you resisted the urge to look down at the street 13 floors below you, a silent prayer left your lips as you hit peter's window and noticed it still unlocked from when he'd returned earlier.

there was a moment of hesitation, a flash of guilt as you contemplated the insane invasion of privacy it was to enter someone's bedroom window without asking. he hadn’t even noticed you yet, for fucks sake.

the moment passed as you heard peter choke trying to catch his breath.

pulling the window up and nearly falling through, you found him in his bed, the sight utterly gut-wrenching. if peter knew you were there, he didn't show it as he laid there, curled in on himself in fetal position, crying so hard you were sure he wouldn't have a voice tomorrow. you took a step closer, steadying your own breath as you took the view in of the strongest person you knew, spider-man, for fucks sake, choking on his own spit as he had his hands grasped around his damp curls. you watched in horror as he yanked. hard.

it was too much, and you had to intervene. you tried his name a few times, but it seemed peter was far too lost in his own head to notice.

"peter?"

god he can even hear her now. he tugged his hair harder, hoping the pain would drown out the voices.

"peter, please! you're hurting yourself!"

hearing her was one thing, but feeling his dead aunt's hands on his own was a new low. he'd officially fucking lost it.

"no! you're not even real!" peter screamed as he shot up right, the sudden motion catching you off guard and sending you to your ass on the hard ground.

you hit with a soft "oof", and it knocked some sense of reality back into peter as he met your gaze on the ground just below him.

"wh-what? what are you, how did you get in here?" he croaked out, confirming your previous suspicions that he'd shot his voice.

you moved to stand, watching as peter tucked himself small again to make room for you on his bed. it was immediately clear just how embarrassed he felt as he tried to wipe away his tears and snot, smoothing his tussled hair out as you cautiously sat at the edge of his bed.

"it seemed like something was wrong. guessing i was maybe right?" you tried softly, offering him what you hoped came off as empathy rather than pity.

it was hard not to - pity him - in that moment. you hadn't yet seen this part of peter. right now, he wasn't spider-man. he wasn't peter parker, top of his class at ESU. he was a broken boy, pieces shattered and laying out in front of you. you didn't know what was wrong, but from the look on his face, maybe just being here was handing him the first piece he needed to start putting it all back together again.

peter's face crumpled, fresh tears streaking down his cheeks as he launched himself into your lap. the dam broke as he let out wails that chilled down to your bones, broken "i'm sorry"'s filling the air between his gasps.

you didn't know what to do. you didn't know what was wrong. but it didn't matter in that moment as you held him tightly, pulling one of new york's mightiest heroes into your lap fully and cradling him as though he wasn't a 22 year old man. with a hand in his hair to soothe his obviously sore scalp, you whispered soft nothings into peter's ear as he continued to sob, and nothing but unintelligible "sorry"'s left his chapped lips.

you stayed like that for god knew how long, letting him get it all out. you didn't care that his tears were starting to soak through your sleep shirt, or that he was drooling against your arm as he fought to catch his breath. you didn't care. you just cared that he was as safe as he could be in your arms right now, and that he wasn't alone anymore. it broke your heart to see him so hurt. someone who saved you from a man in an alley with nothing but the flick of his wrist and a quick-witted comment, now bawling in your lap and apologizing as if he had been the one to hurt you that day.

after a while, peter eventually began to quiet down, his cries fading into soft sniffles. his once heavy, labored breathing started to even out as he used his remaining energy to match the deep and steady pace you had set out for him long ago.

soon, it settled even further, and you looked down to see a sleeping peter parker collapsed across your lap. you smiled at the sight, relieved to see his body finally relaxed. with the upmost caution, you shifted so that peter was laying back on his bed, and tucked his blanket gently around him. reaching up to brush some of the matted, sweaty hair from off his forehead, you gave a soft smile before you went to stand, but a hand landed gingerly on your wrist, causing you to turn back.

"don't go. please." it was so broken that it made tears spring in your eyes.

"i'm not going anywhere, pete. just grabbing a few things quick, okay?"

with a soft hum and the return of his steady breathing, you got up to get some supplies: a cold rag, some meds and a glass of water to soothe the headache you knew would be there in the morning, spidey-healing be damned.

you returned to sit next to him, covering his face as gently as possible with the rag. he hummed quietly, leaning into your touch as you wiped away the hours of tear tracks that had eroded his cheeks like a river does the land. you tossed the cloth to his dirty bin, tensing as you decided on your next move.

fuck it. you'd already broken in to his literal house.

you climbed into bed next to him, shimmying your way under the covers and molding yourself against his warm, tired body. he accepted immediately, arms finding their way around your waist and letting out a content sigh as your head laid on his chest. you smiled, noticing his heart rate had finally returned back to normal.

more unknown time had passed, this time much more serene than the last lost chunk of time. you'd thought he was fully out, feeling yourself pulled under the same lull before peter's voice quietly cracked through a whisper.

"it's my aunt's birthday today."

you moved your head to look up at him, your own eyes welling as you noticed the tears in his.

peter hadn't talked about her much. you only knew that she was gone and that he loved her wholeheartedly. he flickered down to meet your gaze before looking away again, and you began to draw comforting patterns over his chest in an encouragement to continue.

"i... i lost her last year. it was my fault, i... i-i couldn't-" he was cut off by his own choked sob, and you crawled further up the bed to hold him tighter, more properly.

"shh, hey. it's okay, peter. it wasn't your fault." you didn't know what had happened, but you knew there was no way in hell this was on him.

peter shuttered an exhale as he buried his face in your neck, newly wet cheeks smushed against your warm skin. "it's her birthday. and... and for the first time, she's just not here."

his voice was barely audible towards the end, and you held him even closer at the admission. you rubbed his back and exaggerated your steady breaths for him to mimic again as you laid there with him, allowing him to simply not be alone with this.

"i'm sorry i kept you up. i'm sorry i didn't come to dinner. i'm sorry about all of this." peter sounded like he was eight years old again.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. "peter, please. you don't have to apologize to me. thank you so much for telling me."

his eyes wavered in your gaze before he dropped it, nestling his head back against you with a quiet, "okay". your hand found his hair again, the other still firmly planted on his back.

"can i ask you a question?" he just hummed in acknowledgment.

pairing: John Logan x reader warnings: ADHD paralysis, academic stress, burnout, sleep deprivation, emotional overwhelm summary: You know exactly how far behind you are. Knowing doesn’t make starting any easier.

author’s note: this one is a little more personal because ADHD is so much more than getting distracted or forgetting where you put your keys. sometimes it’s knowing exactly what you need to do and still feeling physically unable to start, falling behind, getting overwhelmed by tiny things, sleeping just to escape the noise in your head, and then feeling guilty for all of it. i really wanted to write that side of it honestly, while still giving reader someone like Logan who doesn’t try to fix her or hit her with fake positivity—he just stays, helps, and makes things feel a little less impossible.

this kind of policing is why ao3 was created

remember, kids, the three laws of fandom are:

- don’t like; don’t read

- your kink is not my kink

kink *but your kink is okay*

don’t forget that part

European glasses and sunglasses are made in the same Italian factories that make the luxury ones, they have the same quality control and warranty. You are paying €100 for a logo.