If You Need Me

Ch. 5: Home In Your Heart

* hi friends! i just wanted to give a quick little warning that mentions of suicidal tendencies pops up a bit towards the second half of this chapter. it's mentioned briefly during a dark time for peter and if that's triggering for you i just wanted you to be aware ! enjoy !

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"Don't you know I gotta find me a home right now in your heart. I'll travel over mountains and down highways. Through the valleys, every byways. Just to find me a home in your heart. I'll bring you pretty flowers, candy moonbeams. Fill your nights with love and sweet dreams. When I, when I find my home in your heart. We'll make sweet pretty music while birdies sing. Tie a love knot with a heartstring." - Solomon Burke

* * *

"I'm just not a fan," Peter pouted like a child, leaning back in his desk chair. 

You huffed and crossed your arms, tapping your foot annoyedly as your eyes shifted back and forth from Peter to Cindy. You weren't sure why Cindy was here, but her eyes were red and puffy and she was knitting like crazy in the corner chair that she'd marked for her own ever since returning. 

You'd never asked, and Peter had never said, but you got the feeling Cindy was going through something that was more emotional than she'd care to admit. You knew Peter was helping her with it and you trusted him, but you sometimes caught ticks in Cindy's demeanor from the hardcore stoic hero. And you knew the look on someone's face when they'd been crying. 

"We already tested Aggie's DNA," Peter ran his hand over his head tiredly, "She didn't inherit your father's Asgardian genetics."

"Well, she did, but they're very small," you muttered, feeling the need to correct Peter for some reason. You'd been agitated and flighty since finding out about your Asgardian roots and no one could fault you for it. And it didn't help that Harry Osborn had been all over the news for his triumphant return to New York to "tend to matters on a more personal level at OSCORP," as the Daily Bugle had stated. 

"Peaches," Peter softly reached out his hand tiredly, elbow still on the desk as he wiggled his fingers and looked at you expectantly. 

It was now your turn to pout as you stepped forward and took Peter's hand in yours. He smiled lightly and tugged on your hand a bit, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it a few times before looking up at you, "I know what this is really about," he said seriously.

"Y-You do?" 

"You just don't want to celebrate Hanukkah with May and me this year," Peter smirked, eyes sparkly impishly, "Last year was such a disaster that you can't even fathom having to go through it again."

You squawked in annoyance and tore your hand from Peter's as he laughed. 

"You're such a child," you snapped.

"An imbecile, one might say," Cindy said flatly, eyes never leaving the knitting, "A cowardly lion, or perhaps the itsy bitsy spider that wouldn't go up the spout?"

Peter glared at Cindy, "Well, since you won't tell your parents you're fucking alive, now you have to deal with May during Hanukkah, and if you remember correctly, it's vicious."

"It's not that bad," Cindy rolled her eyes, "It was one of my favorite times every year."

Peter's soft expression caused ice to sizzle in your veins. The rearing monster of jealousy wormed its way slowly under your skin and reached to squeeze your heart - suffocating any last chance at patience and acceptance for the situation that you had. But you caught it last minute and snuffed it out in a long, deep breath.

Peter had been begging for a week or so now that you should bring your family to the new townhouse for the holidays. You'd first reminded him that Aggie had a four-month-old baby and that the townhouse hardly had any furniture. Peter had then suggested that he book your family suites or something at a fancy hotel, which you'd declined because "what a waste of money." He'd then asked for his suitcase - which was weirdly at your apartment and you weren't entirely sure you remembered why - so that he could start packing to head home with you for the holidays.

It was then you finally had to break the news to him.

"It's just a family matter I'd rather handle myself," you'd said.

"Whit's going to be there."

"Whit's family."

"Not really."

"He and Aggie are married."

It was then that Peter had gone to say something, shut his mouth, awkwardly thrown his arms out in annoyance, and given you a look that you perceived as 'aren't we basically married at this point after everything we've gone through?'

But it had been decided that you would go home alone because that was what you wanted and Peter was bad at saying no to you. 

You fingered at the ring around your neck now - Uncle Ben's class ring he'd given to May - as you watched Peter sit sadly in his chair. You weren't sure if Peter knew that Cindy had told you the meaning behind it, and if that meaning was proposal-related. You were kind of glad Peter didn't throw that down as an excuse for why he should be there by your side when you confronted your family. 

You felt bad for excluding him, but the thing was you weren't sure how your family was going to react. You had to tell them to their faces what your father had been, and you had half a sense that your mother already knew. But still, you weren't sure you would go through with it or hand it off to Peter to tell them if he was there.

You had to do this.

"I'll be gone Christmas Eve through New Years Day," you reminded him.

"I know," Peter pouted, "And I'm not happy about it."

"It's ten days."

"Without you."

"Ew," Cindy blurted out, causing the two of you to turn and look at her. Her face blossomed with embarrassment as she curled her legs even farther under her and shrugged, "I said what I said. The two of you are seriously mushy when no one else is here."

"You're here," you reminded her.

"Yes, why are you here?" Peter asked, seeming to suddenly remember again that Cindy was occupying space in his office.

"We had that meeting an hour ago," Cindy raised an eyebrow and Peter's face paled.

"Oh," he mumbled, "And you didn't remind me?"

"This seemed important?" Cindy gestured to your conversation, "And you were so excited when you opened the door and saw Y/N was here. Like a fucking puppy. How was I supposed to pull you away to boring science shit when you looked like a puppy?"

Peter straightened out his tie and looked back to you, "I actually do have to get to this meeting, unfortunately."

"It's fine. Apologies for delaying. What's the meeting about?"

"Interdimensional travel," Cindy stood up gracefully and tossed her knitting onto the chair recklessly as if she hadn't been meticulously knitting a sweater for the past hour. At least, you thought it was a sweater. 

"Well, to be more specific, interdimensional travel and how to stop it," she clarified, "Blockades and such."

"Sounds ..." you hesitated, "Strenuous?"

"We have someone coming to help," Peter grumbled, "An old friend."

"Someone I know?" you asked, following the two out of the office.

"My guess, from Peter's track record, it's someone Peter used to know," Cindy looked over her shoulder to you and mimed a blowjob as she said 'used to know' causing you to snort with laughter and try to reel it in as Peter glared at you.

"Who is -"

"Speaking of senses of travel," Peter turned and walked backward effortlessly as he spoke with you, sensing things around him and moving as needed, "Have you thought any more about our New Years' trip?"

You bristled, "I said I didn't want to talk about that until after New Year."

"Well, it would be after New Year that we would go," Peter reminded you.

"I know how time works," you sassed, like a child.

"Day after day," Cindy nodded, "Night after night. Year after year."

"Exactly," you commented.

"I'm not amused," Peter stated.

"You weren't meant to be," you replied.

"Y/N, baby come on. I'm being serious," Peter stopped walking and you nearly toppled into him as Cindy groaned and stopped walking herself, looking back as Peter placed his hands on your upper arms and looked down at you sincerely, "Loki wants us to come to New Asgard. He wants to meet you, and honestly, I don't want him coming here. I highly doubt he'd like to come either."

"I don't understand why not," you whined, knowing exactly how ridiculous you sounded.

"Yeah I wonder why he wouldn't want to come back to the place his brother and half his people died in battle," Cindy grumbled while inspecting her nails.

You suddenly felt guilty.

"I'll think about it," you whispered earnestly.

Peter nodded, kissed your forehead, and let go of you as he turned back around. "I'll catch up with you after this meeting!" he called as he and Cindy entered the labs. Part of you hoped he wouldn't catch up with you, and that part of you felt even more guilty. 

Étienne was waiting for you in the café as you trodded down the stairs to meet him. He smiled when he saw you and slid over a bit on the booth to make room for you. 

"The most amazing thing happened," he said, patting the spot next to him for you to sit down. You did so softly and turned to him as he smiled.

"We received a huge donation," his eyes were glittering with excitement, "It was anonymous, but it's huge, Y/N. Huge. Guess how much!"

"I'm a bit tired and would rather you just tell me," you admitted sheepishly.

"$7.6 million," Étienne giggled gleefully, "Do you have any idea how much this donation is going to assist the fund? We'll be able to set up those two galleries in the East Village just as we'd hoped, but we can do it a year in advance! The Chelsea gallery too!"

"Remarkable," you muttered, looking down at the donation files, "Where's the donation record?"

"Here's the note," Étienne handed you the tablet with the email record, "As I said, it's anonymous, but they wrote some nice words."

Money hard-earned, never spent, and justifiably yours. May it bring joy to many. 

"Interesting," you whispered.

"You're not as excited as I thought you'd be!" Étienne exclaimed, "Y/N! Think of everything this money can do for the arts fund!"

"It's truly spectacular," you smiled widely at Étienne, a fake façade, and giggled along with him. The pain was knowing exactly where the money came from, and knowing that it was a calling card you'd now have to cash in on. 

"Let's go over the building options again," you suggested, "I know we've narrowed it down to the three different places, but I'd like to see them again. And I think it would be best to go back through some of the applications for residencies the artists have submitted."

You delved deep into work for the next few hours with Étienne, and it felt good to have something else to occupy your mind. You hadn't realized it, but homework had stopped being challenging or interesting a long time ago. Lectures now seemed mundane, and you were able to skirt through your senior year of classes still with top marks, but hardly with any effort.

Without realizing it, Stark Industries had provided you with an entire education you hadn't ever expected to have this early in your career. You were learning about things in your classes in the readings and lessons that you'd already been doing now since working for Tony. You were finally starting to understand why Peter found college so trivial, but there was still a burning desire in you to graduate and earn your degree. But the work no longer consumed your nervous frenzy of a mind the way it used to. Only large projects like the one you and Étienne were now working on could satiate your bottomless pit of anxiety.

"Let's call it for the night," you suggested after a few hours, "We can tour those buildings and make a decision before the holidays so that in the new year we can start refurbishing. Have it done by the summer."

"Sounds like a plan," Étienne smiled. You could see that just as the work you were doing provided a sort of fix for an addiction you had, it was also just as addicting to Étienne - but in a different way. He was coming alive with this work and he'd been more inspired within his own art since starting - you'd seen him furiously sketching away and always covered in some sort of art medium here or there. This work was making him whole again, whereas you seemed to now be falling apart. 

"I'm going to head out," you yawned, "Long day. If you see Peter -"

"I tend to try not to," Étienne smirked. You broke out into a smile.

"Just tell him I went home."

Étienne nodded, you both hugged, and you made your way out into the cold night. Only instead of turning in the direction of your apartment you waited until Étienne had turned away before making your way in the opposite direction.

In the grand scheme of New York City and Manhattan, Stark Industries and OSCORP were not that far from one another. It was just a long enough walk that your fingers were starting to go numb in your gloves as you made it into the lobby. It was warm and you felt your cheeks burning in that uncomfortable post-blizzard kind of way as you stormed past the reception desk.

"Excuse me! Miss!" a receptionist called after you, "Do you have an appointment? Most of our offices are closed!"

"I'm friends with Harry," you smiled at her sweetly, "He told me to come by."

The girl looked at you a bit nervously, and you couldn't imagine what you must have looked like to her. Cheeks bitten, eyes wild, hair probably a mess from the wind ... you were sure your smile was more manic than comforting as you had to voice out loud that Harry was a 'friend.'

You could have gagged.

The receptionist eyed you suspiciously as she pulled at her desk phone and pressed the first speed dial, "H-Hi Mr. Osborn," she cleared her throat, "I have a woman here who says she's your friend."

She looked at you expectantly and you smiled again, lunging forward and grasping the phone from her as she gasped, "It's me," you said sickly sweet into the receiver, "Open your fucking door."

The personal elevator blinked on and pinged immediately. You smiled at the receptionist as you handed her back the phone. You started to make your way over to the door before another wave of guilt passed over you. Turning, you looked back around the wall and winced.

"I'm really sorry for being rude," you apologized to the receptionist, "It's been such a long day and that doesn't excuse me from being so mean. Harry's kind of an asshole and I hate having to see him, but he always gets what he wants which is infuriating to me. I really don't want to be here, you know? Anyway, you're lovely and I'm sorry I caused such a fuss."

The receptionist just blinked back at you as you cleared your throat, already feeling embarrassed, "I'll be on my way."

You jogged into the elevator and pressed the only button - Harry's office - and waited as the doors closed. Your phone started to buzz in your pocket and you noticed the light blue flashing symbol on your screen, causing you to groan.

"Hi Karen," you answered through the AI app Peter had invented and installed into your phone. Karen was kind of now shared between you and Peter, which you felt immensely fond of. You kind of felt like Karen liked you more too, which you appreciated.

"Peter isn't going to like this Y/N," Karen spoke in her usual calm voice, "I can see you're at OSCORP."

"It's business, unfortunately," you told her, "Strictly such. And I won't be here longer than five minutes."

"I feel obligated to let Peter know -"

"Please, Karen, Peter is already doing so much for so many other people. He's in meetings right now and I don't want to bother him with something so trivial. Besides, I know Harry and I can handle myself. But if it makes you feel better, I can keep you on speaker this whole time and if I feel unsafe I'll let you know."

"The codeword is?" Karen asked.

"What would you like the codeword to be Karen?"

Karen was quiet as she thought before saying, "Jell-O. It makes no sense as a construct and I find it fascinating."

"Jell-O it is then."

Harry was pacing in front of the elevator when you stepped out, and he stopped as your eyes met. 

"Okay," Harry straightened up and adjusted his very wrinkled shirt, "If you're here to kill me, just get it over with."

He closed his eyes tight and scrunched up his nose while you stood there and stared back at him. He looked a horrible mess from the last time you'd seen him. (Granted, he'd also been beaten up the last time you'd seen him and now he just looked exhausted). 

Harry was so pale that even the slightest of bruising under his eyes was noticeable. The undereye bags were intense and when he opened his eyes again to see that you were still standing there, you noticed the red, tired gaze of his eyes. His silky silvery hair was ruffled and unkept - very unlike him - and the sheer raspberry shirt he was wearing was untucked from his black leather pants. You noticed a pair of heel boots lying next to his desk, which made sense for the green socks covered in ducks Harry was wearing.

"You look like shit," you stated, "And I don't want your money."

Realization dawned on Harry and he stepped back, nodding, "Would you then accept a drink instead?"

He stepped back into his wide office space and you hated yourself for following. Unlike Peter's office, which was still large and yet held a certain amount of warmth, Harry's office was cold and industrial. It was a completely open space, whereas Peter's was blocked into an office space and a lab which made it feel more livable and personable. Harry's just felt daunting and cold. 

Papers were scattered everywhere, parts of different tech were clustered in broken piles all over the floor. There were four large smartboards that were seemingly floating midair around Harry's desk, and when he picked up a remote and pressed a button, they disappeared. Well, they glitched for a moment and then reappeared, causing Harry to curse under his breath and stab the remote with his thumb a million times. The screens remained.

"Faulty fucking tech," he grumbled, "And they say it's top of the line, right? Ha!"

"Are you high?" you asked, "What are you on?"

"How kind of you to care," Harry whirled around and smiled widely at you, "But since you and Peter cast me out of the city all those years ago -"

"It was only a few years," you rolled your eyes.

"- I've unfortunately been sober," Harry continued.

Your eyes traveled to the glass of vodka in his hand and his vision followed, both of you looking at the alcohol. Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes, knocking it back before stating loudly, "Sober of substances," he clarified, "Cocaine? Never heard of her."

"Oh my God," you groaned, "Harry, I just need you to take back your money."

Harry laughed loudly, "It's a donation! I can't give back a donation. Besides, Étienne was so happy when he saw it. How could I take away something from such a precious boy? Would you be so cruel as to ruin this for him? He adores you. Worships you," Harry leaned back against his desk, "Maybe this will finally break his spell of you."

"You know a lot about us for someone who hasn't been here long," you crossed your arms, "Who's your spy?"

"I don't have one," Harry stated, seeming sincere, "You can tell as much just from the photos anyone could Google on the internet."

"You've Googled us?"

"Of course I have!" Harry threw back the rest of his drink before placing his glass on the desk, "You all live such interesting lives and friendship seems to be a fun part of it. No one's my friend unless they want money or a good fuck, if you can imagine."

"The money, yes. The good fuck? Not sure about that," you quipped.

Harry's lips quirked into a genuine grin as he chuckled lightly, "Jesus, I forgot how funny you are," he mumbled tiredly, running his hand through his hair and sighing.

"Well if you're not going to take back the money, then why did you do it?" you demanded, keeping your distance from Harry as he poured himself another drink.

Harry looked out one of his many windows. Every wall of the office was just wall to wall window, and you noticed that he'd since replaced the one Peter had smashed through. He refused to look at you as he spoke, "You know, I hadn't spoken to Whitney for months until she came here. We hadn't been in contact for a while, on account of her being a fucking psycho."

"You don't say."

"But then she comes here and she gets fixated on you and Peter's obsession for you and something in her broke. She started to crack when I started dating you and I didn't think anything of it. She was just being her jealous, callous self as usual. And besides," the tips of Harry's ears started to turn pink, "It wasn't like I stopped sleeping with her."

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around yourself, once again reminded of how shitty of a boyfriend Harry was. A liar, cheater, scoundrel, and every other word in the book could explain how important it had been to get him out of your life. And now here the two of you were. 

"Regardless," Harry cleared her throat, "I fell out of touch with her when I left for home. But then I found out she was going back to New York and I selfishly reached back out. Unfortunately, I enabled her for a little too long just because I wanted to hear how Peter - how you and Peter - were doing."

Harry cleared his throat and looked down into his glass, watching as the ripples of his drink sloshed side to side as he swiveled it a bit. "I fed into whatever psychotic scheme she was falling into and I regretted that it turned into you almost dying ... I guess."

"Thanks."

"Plus, we both know you were the one who raised all that money for OSCORP back when we met. I never gave you any credit, but now you're super scary and I'm afraid to cross you so figured now was the time to repay you."

Your eyes met again and Harry whispered, "You can't tell Peter you're here."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Secrets don't bode well for relationships."

"Fuck you, Harry," you whispered, unable to muster your voice to go any higher. 

"It doesn't matter anymore," Harry turned and grasped the crystal tumbler of scotch, uncapping it. "This whole city has been fucked for a long time. None of this matters. We lost Peter when we lost Cindy, and he only fucked me out of pity and missing her."

An odd, twisted laugh sprung from your throat and you couldn't keep it in. Everything always seemed to go back to the moment Cindy died. Every little thing that came back to haunt your relationship with Peter was born from that very moment and no matter how hard you tried to outrun it, it always came back to you.

"You'd be surprised," you grumbled, scratching at your nose as Harry looked at you suspiciously. 

"I'm leaving," you stated, trying to pretend you didn't feel Harry's eyes on you the entire time you made your way towards the elevator. Your eye caught a glimpse of one of the many papers scattered around Harry's office and you bent down to snatch it up.

"That's -" 

Harry stood abruptly and tried to tear the paper from you but you held it behind you and pushed at Harry's chest with the other hand, causing his drunken stature to stumble backward.

"This is one of the prototypes for the black matter diffuser," your eyes narrowed as you looked over the paper at Harry's nervous look, "You and Peter worked on this together."

"It was a work in progress," Harry clarified, "We never went to trial runs."

"Peter gave this up."

"Well, that's good for him."

"He said it was too dangerous and there were too many chaos elements to contain."

"And if the great Peter Parker can't do something then we should all just give up, right?" Harry spat.

You shook your head, "This is dangerous science, Harry. Even I know that."

"Well lucky for you, you're no longer my emergency contact so if I blow this place up then you won't have to come and identify my many remaining parts."

Harry tore the paper from your grasp and you startled back a bit at his aggression. The desperate look in Harry's eyes remained as he tossed the paper back to the floor behind him without a second look, shaking his head. You weren't sure what Harry was up to, but you felt a cold chill run down your spine as you watched him slouch down into his desk chair and stare off into space. 

You only realized after you'd made it out of OSCORP and started heading towards your apartment that you were uncomfortable looking at Harry not because he was your ex-boyfriend Harry Osborn, but because you were looking into what felt like an alternate reality of what Peter's future could have looked like had he not met you and continued on his self-destructive collision course. 

And you couldn't help but shudder. 

You thought about this for the next week or so as you watched Cindy and Peter fall into some deep project in his lab. Peter had slowly gotten more used to working in his private lab in his office, but since Cindy's return Peter had started to frequent his original lab across the hall from Cindy's and it wasn't uncommon to see the two of them rushing back and forth from lab to lab as they worked.

"Good fucking God," Harley said, watching as Cindy rolled a huge coil of wires from her lab across to Peter's from his lab. You sat perched on the ledge, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle as Harley ran a few diagnostics on your antidote patch. He'd become distracted by the ruckus happening at the end of the hall, and you were kind of grateful you couldn't turn to see what was going on.

"I'm guessing this is how it always used to be?" you asked, wincing slightly as you heard a loud crash in the distance.

"It was constant," Harley said while looking back down at one of his many screens, "And if I'm being honest, I didn't miss it."

"They're working on something," you said, "And Peter's hardly said anything about it."

"Probably because it's all he talks about here so by the time he gets home he can't think another second about it."

"I can understand that," you said, even though it irked you to your core. You wanted to know what he and Cindy were spending such long hours doing, and though you wanted to tell yourself it was because you cared about your boyfriend's work, it was more because you wanted to know what could possibly be occupying so much of Peter's time that Cindy was involved in.

"If it makes you feel better, Peter's been working down here more often so he can avoid Curt Connors," Harley pressed a warm dial to your patch and you watched as things shifted on the screen - numbers and statistics and words you didn't understand but Harley started to write down. 

"Peter's been complaining about him," you agreed.

"And here I was thinking Peter would be thrilled with his work. But apparently, Connors is a little more than Peter anticipated."

"What do you mean?"

"Connors works in biological engineering and so he's been working with animals to test regeneration and self-healing functions. Think about it," Harley looked up at you from over the top rim of his glasses, "What's something organic that Peter could grow back?"

"His ... arm?" you mumbled.

"Precisely," Harley nodded, "And yet for some reason Peter's been denying all of Connors's requests for higher testing on larger animals. Connors so far has been successful on all the rats and smaller animals he's tested on, so I don't see why Peter won't go for higher trials. Connors first had to prove that the tests wouldn't harm any of the animals before running those tests anyway, so it's not like we don't know it works."

"I didn't realize Peter had that sort of power."

"He's the COO," Harley looked surprised, "You didn't realize just how integral your boyfriend was to this company? Other than signing checks and attending board of trustee meetings with big donors, Peter's kind of running Stark Industries."

"Then we should call it Parker Industries," you chuckled.

Harley snorted, "God, wouldn't that be a riot."

A small beep you'd become familiar with sounded through Harley's lab and he smiled at you, "All clear. Your vitals are normal."

"I'm surprised nothing's changed since we figured out my DNA," you mentioned.

"Well, what we had was already working, so there was no need to change -"

The door to Harley's lab flew open and Peter stood with red cheeks and tired eyes, "I heard the beep. Everything's normal? She's fine? Healthy?"

"Completely," you nodded, hopping down off the table, "Were you multitasking by listening in on my test?"

"I couldn't help it," Peter rubbed his eyes tiredly before smiling down at you, "When are you leaving?"

"Now."

"Now?" he slouched, "Are you sure?"

"Well ... it is the holidays," you nodded, "I won't be gone long."

"PETER!" Cindy screamed, "It's on fire!"

"Fuck," Peter turned back to his lab before looking at you nervously.

"I'll see you soon," you told him, quickly reaching up and giving him a soft kiss. Peter felt his heart clench as he wanted to pull you in for a longer one, but he could smell the wires already burning from his lab and you seemed to understand his rush. 

"Soon," he promised, "I love you."

"I love you too," you chuckled before watching him sprint back to his lab. 

You drove home, which was good because you needed the time to think about how you were going to address your father's Asgardian background with your family. You went over and over it as you gripped the steering wheel tighter and clenched your jaw, speaking to yourself as you ran through multiple scenarios. 

But no matter how you tried to phrase it, you couldn't figure out the right way to start the conversation. Would you pull your mother aside and talk with her first? Or maybe you'd ask your sister if she noticed anything before and then the two of you could address it together with your mom? Did your mom know already? Had your sister suspected? 

By the time you were home at your mother's apartment building, you felt ill. You were clammy, too warm, and yet shivering at the same time. Aggie opened the door with little bubbly baby Joy on her arm and you smiled, laughing as your niece wiggled in your sister's arms.

"Welcome home!" Aggie cried, "It's so good to see you!"

Even though your mother had moved since your father's death, there was still the same home spell clinging to the apartment. Spices and flowers and a hint of your father's cologne clung to the air, and it was in that moment as you hugged your mother, took your niece in your arms, and sat down with your family to catch up that you knew it in your heart ...

You could never tell them. 

Peter kind of knew it too, which was why he'd been so hopeful you would let him come with you. His mind was on you as he worked in the lab through the night with Cindy going over as many formulas and equations as they could before their brains were melted. 

They'd had this idea a few weeks ago that maybe they could track interdimensional travel kind of like a weather radar machine, only there were so many different particles and other combinations involved with traveling through dimensions that it hadn't been as easy of a project as they had anticipated.

"Maybe we should use my blood again," Cindy suggested from where she was lying on the floor. She was staring up at the ceiling with one arm tossed over her forehead while the other was throwing little things - pencils, pens, notepads, tools - into the air and then using them for target practice by shooting at them and sticking them to the ceiling. Peter knew he'd have to get them all down later (especially the tools, which he actually used) but he was too tired and you weren't answering any of his texts since you'd told him you were home, so he was worried.

"You have to give her space, Peter," Cindy commented tiredly, "Your mind is driving me insane and now I'm worried about Y/N too because your emotions are too loud."

"She's not going to tell them," Peter mumbled, "I could tell the second she said she wanted to go home alone. She wants to keep it to herself, which scares me. She's going to sacrifice herself somehow for her family and it's not going to end well."

"Loki should be chill about it," Cindy yawned, "He was always more relaxed after we took the punishment of death off the table for the 2012 thing."

"We aren't on good terms," Peter rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Did you fuck him too?"

"What? No! Jesus, Cin," Peter hissed, "Loki?"

"I don't know," Cindy rolled her eyes and sat up. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders - it had grown out a bit since she'd returned - and she ran her hand through it, pushing it out of her face, "You fucked a lot of people, that's all I'm saying."

"Yes, I'm aware," Peter grit his teeth and turned back to their machine, "Let's call it a night. I'm sure Johnny will have some better ideas. He said he was going to talk to Reed."

"Speaking of people you've fucked," Cindy smirked, "Were you ever worried Johnny would just burst into flames or something?"

"Cindy!"

Cindy's laughter echoed around the labs and trickled into Peter's skin. Even though he wasn't where he wanted to be, away from you, and frustrated with the lack of progress the project was making, Cindy's laughter always brought him joy. He'd missed it so much, and hearing it now and not some artificial recording of it made his chest ache for simpler times. 

"Well he'll get back to us in the morning," Cindy yawned, "Should we head over to May's now?"

"Fine," Peter stood and stretched, feeling a slight pull of his arm as he circled it to keep his skin from feeling tight.

"Is it comfortable?" Cindy asked, tapping his arm, "Do you feel like it's ... real?"

"I know it's not. I can tell just by the way that I can feel my senses go off all over my body when something happens but this arm remains dead. But I've gotten used to it, and I'm grateful for Shuri's help after everything that happened with the first one."

"Yeah I heard it was a piece of shit," Cindy smirked. 

Peter held the door open for her as he turned everything off, and as Cindy walked by she caught sight of his small safe behind the main lab bench near the front wall. Her eyes met Peter's and he shook his head, "I haven't touched it since you gave it to me."

"We should run tests on it," Cindy muttered, "Utilize it as best we can before it falls into the wrong hands."

"It's a brand new spider serum that you say is successful and so for all I care, we leave it be and never think about it again," Peter scoffed pulling on his coat, "And besides, just who's 'wrong hands' are you thinking of?"

"Hey guys!" Jessica popped out of seemingly nowhere and Peter jumped, but Cindy seemed unfazed.

"Hands like these," she sighed before addressing Jessica, "What are you doing here?"

"Patrol?" Jessica referred down to her suit, "It's patrol time."

"It's Christmas Eve," Peter chuckled, "We're not going to make you work on Christmas Eve."

Jessica looked a little embarrassed before Cindy cleared her throat, "Jessica and I haven't celebrated a holiday in a long time."

"Ever," Jessica whispered.

Peter felt immense guilt sucker punch him in the gut as Jessica looked on the verge of tears and Cindy pulled her in for a hug. 

"Alright then," Peter cleared his throat, "Come on. City Christmas Tour starts now."

"What?" Jessica asked, looking confused.

"Keep your suit on. We're going to swing through the city to all the best spots decorated for the holidays. And after that, we'll go to May's for hot chocolate. We don't really celebrate Christmas much but Y/N taught me a mean hot cocoa recipe and we can still watch some Christmas movies or something."

Jessica freaked immediately, bouncing up and down with excitement as Cindy looked at Peter and he read her mind immediately. Her 'thank you' was nearly screaming at him she was so grateful, and Peter felt a weird sensation in his chest as he and Cindy corralled Jessica out the door. He felt like he finally had a purpose as Spider-Man other than saving people and working as an Avenger. He was now a teacher, a mentor, and that excited him far more than he realized. 

You couldn't help but smile as Peter sent you photo after photo of him, Cindy, and Jessica swinging through the city celebrating with all the iconic New York Christmas spots. Even with half of Jessica's face covered, you could see the excitement in her eyes and the true, unbridled joy she was feeling. 

Did it bother you that Cindy and Peter's arms were wrapped around her like a loving family? Or that the three of them were sharing this very special moment you'd never be able to participate in? Sure. But you had your own shit to deal with, and at that moment it was quite literally your niece's literal shit you were handling as you changed her diaper. 

"So," Aggie showed up in the doorway, "You and Peter seem ... good?"

"Sounds more like a question," you cooed to Joy while avoiding Aggie's eye contact. Your sister could read you better than anyone else, and you didn't want to break in front of her.

"He told us about the house when he bought it. Mom's happy about it, obviously," Aggie sat down and watched as you dressed Joy carefully and continued to smile at your niece. 

"Yeah it's nice," you nodded.

"I'm surprised he's not here."

"He's busy."

"So are you, but like, it's the holidays."

"Get off my ass, Aggie," you snapped at her, finally looking up at her, "You have no idea the shit we've got going on at work. I wanted to relax over the break, and Peter doesn't have the time to be able to do that right now."

"No need to be defensive," Aggie reached out and took Joy from you, "I'm just saying that things seem to be super serious between the two of you and I'm wondering if you're fully prepared for it."

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N, you're moving in together to a house Peter bought. You work at the same place. You're about to graduate. Marriage can't really be that far out of your mind."

You flushed, "We've got more going on than you realize, Aggie. Marriage isn't easy for everyone."

"Then tell me what's going on," Aggie urged you, "I know I can be a bitch sometimes, but that's just because I love you and want to protect you."

You wanted to scream at her so badly. She was so content and happy with her normal husband, normal life, normal level of DNA flooding through her veins, and content normal life with her cute baby and family. Her life was so easy compared to the shit you and Peter had been going through. You wanted to be angry with her, but it's not like she knew anything about it, so her ignorance wasn't her fault. 

You were reminded of that beautiful little room in the new townhouse that had been filled with light and promise that morning after your first visit to the new place. You'd had so many "normal" plans you'd wanted to fulfill with Peter - marriage, a family, a life. But how could you possibly allow that after knowing that your child not only could inherit spidey powers but also any lingering Asgardian responsibilities. 

"Hey," Aggie whispered, "Are you okay?" 

Her genuine concern wrapped in her soft, warm voice was heartbreaking and you wanted to break down and tell her everything. But that wasn't fair. Aggie was happy and thriving and finally, she and Whit had the life they'd always wanted. You couldn't take that away from her or tarnish the life you'd had with your father just because you didn't want to struggle alone.

You had Peter for that. 

You waited to tell him in person because you knew it would be a whole conversation, and you didn't want to have that on the phone or risk him coming to your home in Philadelphia. Plus, the holidays had been nice. It was like one final loving visit with your family before your life changed completely - and you wanted to enjoy it for all it was worth. 

Peter had enjoyed the holiday season more than he'd realized. He'd been so devastated to not be spending it with you, and then Cindy and Jessica had filled that gap in a way he was eternally grateful for. May had been more than happy to have two more mouths to feed, and Jessica had even invited Miles over for a little bit the morning after New Year for a fun breakfast. Peter had tolerated it, and he'd actually come to respect Miles a bit more when Miles had talked with Ned (who had also shown up unannounced to celebrate) about some robotics things Miles was working on in his lab class. 

It was more people than Peter had hung out with in a while and actually enjoyed, but he'd missed you terribly and wished you could have been there to enjoy it as well.

Honestly, he'd only stepped out onto the fire escape to take a breath. He hadn't wanted to "escape" so to speak, but when he saw Felicia perched on the fire escape seemingly waiting for him, Peter realized maybe he wasn't the only one hesitant about being around people during these festive times.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, crawling out the window.

"Well, Y/N isn't here so I don't exactly have anyone to bake me holiday snacks and I figured she might have pre-made some for you so I was going to steal them," she shrugged, "Also I have some news on Harry."

"Great," Peter rubbed his face tiredly, "Back to reality, I guess."

"Black matter," Felicia sunk down on the windowsill and wrapped her arms around herself. She was in a pair of black skinny jeans stuffed into some hardcore-looking combat boots. Her black leather jacket tied around her waist and black turtleneck sticking out of it to elongate her neck made her look scary and elegant, but Peter could see that she wasn't feeling as confident as she was dressed.

"He's still working on it?" Peter leaned against the railing across from him, "I was hoping he'd have given up by now."

"What did you do with the notes the two of you had? The ones that Whitney got?"

"I burned them," Peter shrugged, feeling a bit defeated, "I wasn't sure if she'd made any copies but then the warehouse went up in flames and all of their stuff was seized after the attack. I never found anything to think that she'd secured any information but ... I never know anymore."

It was a cold night in the city and the wind was intense, but Peter felt fine. He'd rather be cold alone with Felicia than inside in the warmth after a few hours of conversation with lots of people. And Felicia seemed content as well.

"There's something else," she muttered, "Alchemax. You're looking into them right?"

"How could you possibly know that?" Peter whined, both annoyed but also impressed once again by Felicia's snooping and spying skills. 

"I know everything, Peter," she scoffed, "You know this."

Peter waved it off. It wasn't worth the fight. "What about Alchemax?"

"Also seeming to be interested in black matter," Felicia nibbled on her bottom lip. She wasn't wearing her usual blood-red lipstick and she was fresh-faced - not a cat-eye swipe of eyeliner or a fake eyelash in sight. She looked tired and worn, and again Peter wondered what she could have possibly been doing all this time in Europe before coming back. What had she gone through?

"Connected? I didn't know Harry had any sort of relationship with Alchemax."

"It could be a coincidence," Felicia shrugged, "But we all know this city is a lot smaller than most people think."

"You're right," Peter nodded, "And I'm guessing you're here to ask if I'll involve myself."

Felicia pulled a pack of cigarettes from her coat pocket and Peter knew things were bad. She only smoked when she was super stressed, and considering how quickly she lit the cigarette up and puffed it easily, she'd been smoking again for a while. To keep her from the guilt that he could feel starting to emanate off her, he stretched for his hand and gestured he wanted one as well.

Felicia lit his for him off her own and handed it over. Peter watched as the smoke billowed from his lips into the winter's night air and listened as Felicia spoke.

"Times are different and I think we both know it," she spoke tiredly, "I can't have you in the field the same way I always have. You can't go out whenever you want or sneak around because people know who you are now. Spider-Man can't be accountable for only his actions now, you have Peter Parker to worry about too."

Peter nodded and took another drag from his cigarette.

"And Y/N," Felicia commented, "Every action you take now is in direct correlation with her. We have to protect her, especially with whatever decision she decides to take about Asgard."

Peter shuddered.

"Has she talked about it?" Felicia asked, "Do you know if she's going to ... stay there?"

"She hasn't said anything," Peter whispered, "She doesn't directly answer my questions."

"She wouldn't leave you."

"She might," Peter mumbled, "She's loyal. And loyalty to her father might ... push her away."

"She's loyal to you now," Felicia reminded him, "And to Stark Industries and the life the two of you have started here."

"I'm not so sure anymore," Peter whispered, "I'm not sure I can give her what she wants. She was so excited about the house, but now ..."

"Give her what she wants?" Felicia looked annoyed, "Peter, she wants you."

"She wants a future. And I'm not sure I can give her the future she wants. Do you want to know something awful? When I got the call that something was wrong and that there had been something off about her appointment I was terrified she was pregnant. So when I found out that she was half-Asgardian, that was a huge relief. For her, it's life-changing information. But for me, I just didn't have to deal with my greatest upcoming fear."

"You're such a dramatic little bitch," Felicia snapped, "You need to stop making other's lives all about you. You don't know what she wants, and what she wants has probably changed since finding out she's the heir to the Asgardian throne. I'm sure marriage and children are far from her mind."

Peter shrugged, "Maybe."

"Weak," Felicia pushed Peter's shoulder playfully, "You're weak now."

"Thanks," Peter puffed on his cigarette again, "Appreciate it."

They settled into silence as Peter wallowed a bit and Felicia seemed lost in her own thoughts. They stayed there until they'd finished the pack of cigarettes and then Felicia finally spoke up again, "So what are we going to do?"

"I'm going to connect you with Liz," Peter snubbed out his last cigarette on the banister and cleared his throat, "She's my inside girl right now and I'm sure she'll be able to get you some sort of intel."

"Good. I prefer working with women anyway. Smarter. More competent."

"You're not wrong," Peter coughed, "Don't tell Y/N we smoked."

"I don't have to," Felicia leaned over the banister, "Hey baby!" she yelled down.

Peter nearly threw himself over the edge of the fire escape to see you waving up at them, smiling hesitantly. You looked like a cute little marshmallow wrapped up in your big puffy coat and boots, beanie slightly tilted on your forehead as you rubbed your hands together before waving again. 

"We were just taking a smoke break!" Felicia yelled down, "Do you want to come up?"

"Do you want a ride home?" you offered instead, thumbing to your car as Peter smiled down at you. 

"Yes!" he yelled, "Wait for me!"

You expected him to run back in and say goodbye to whoever was inside, but instead he just jumped down over the railing and landed in front of you, all superhero-like, and stood before suffocating you in a hug.

"I missed you," he mashed his lips to your forehead as you giggled and dug your fingers into his sides as he smiled at you.

"Yeah, we all did. Okay, get in the car," Felicia walked past you both briskly, having scaled down the building much more elegantly than Peter had, and slipped into the passenger's seat. Peter huffed with protest about sitting in the back, but quickly pouted and surrendered as you eagerly encouraged him to "just get in."

"How was your break? What did your family say?" Peter asked eagerly, leaning forward as you pulled away from his street and out into the night.

"You know I didn't tell them," you stated softly, "It would ruin too many things for them, and Aggie and Whit just started their family. I don't want to complicate anything more than it needs to be, or ruin their perception of Dad."

"That's bold. Stupid, but bold," Felicia nodded, "At some point you'll really need to pussy-up and tell them, you know that right?"

Peter shuddered as Felicia so casually said "pussy" and you found that kind of hilarious considering he was such a little slut. 

"It just wasn't the right time," you spoke evenly. 

Peter could see you were exhausted. Your hair was braided back loosely and you weren't wearing any makeup. You were in leggings and one of his t-shirts, but with the heat inside the car you'd taken off your coat and rolled up the sleeves a bit, revealing your tattoo that resembled his arm's connecting function. Peter weirdly felt the urge to cry.

"I'll tell them after we visit Tønsberg," you spoke a little louder, just to make sure Peter could hear.

He perked up and leaned forward even more, basically sprawling across the middle. Felicia snarled and pushed him away as if she were annoyed, but you could see the slight tick in her lips as she tried not to smile.

"You really want to go?" Peter asked, "When?"

"Whenever," you shrugged, "I don't know how long we'll stay, so maybe sooner rather than later. When does the spring semester start?"

"January 28th," Peter rattled it off without a thought.

"Then I guess as soon as possible," you commented.

"I'll rule things while you're away," Felicia stated airily.

"What things?" you asked.

"She means Webs," Peter glared at her, "Who, by the way, was a bitch without you. He kept meowing and complaining and he wouldn't stop cuddling me all night."

"Wow that must have been terrible," you rolled your eyes, "You poor thing."

"It was very difficult to manage," Peter nodded, "The cuddles were constant."

"Weak," Felicia whispered quietly, causing Peter to glare at her once again. 

"I'll call Loki when we get home," he said, subtly telling you exactly where he wanted you to take him - the townhouse. Felicia yawned and stretched up as you drove deeper into the city. 

"Drop me here," she pointed casually to the side without much thought, "I'll figure it out from there."

"What? No. I'm taking you home," you scoffed.

"I've got some work to do tonight," she told you, "And I'd like to be dropped off so I can get to it."

Her eyes met Peter's in the rearview mirror and you caught it, watching their silent interaction with interest. You'd hardly been gone long (eight days) but you felt like you'd missed out on far too much. 

"Let her out," Peter sighed, sitting back in his seat, defeated.

You slowed down after pulling over slightly. Felicia smiled widely, a fake smile, and patted her shoulder, "I'll see you before your trip," she told you, even though a huge part of you didn't think you would. It was like you could tell a lie from Felicia before Felicia even realized it was a lie. 

"Thanks," you nodded, not even attempting to smile, and you noticed the grim look in Felicia's eye.

She kicked the door open into the winter night and you blinked in the face of the snow whirling around you as frigid air blew unwanted into your car. The door was only shut after Peter hopped out and dropped into the front seat before turning to nod at you. "I'm ready," he said plainly, also looking extremely exhausted.

The townhouse was warm and welcoming. You parked out front (you hadn't had a parking spot in years and struggled through having a car in the city for no reason other than to make you cry and now you had a beautiful little spot right out front of your house). You tried not to think about how much this meant to you as you followed Peter up the steps and into the warm building. 

Webs was aggressively loving when he realized you were home and not just Peter. He followed you around until you picked him up, and even once he was in your arms he wouldn't stop purring and rubbing against your neck, licking your nose, and meowing right in your face as if screaming, "Never leave me alone with Peter again he's suffocating me with his loneliness."

"You knew I wouldn't tell my family, didn't you?" you asked softly while Peter pulled a half-finished bottle of chardonnay from the fridge. You set Webs down on the kitchen island and he slinked off to do whatever mysterious things cats do while Peter filled two wine glasses.

"Yes," he whispered quietly. 

"And you let me go alone anyway?"

"You wanted to."

You toyed with the stem of the wine glass as you watched Peter closely. He never broke eye contact with you as the two of you stood silently in the kitchen. You'd been with Peter long enough now that you no longer felt the need to carry a conversation or fill empty space. All space with Peter was comfortable, and the two of you often communicated without needing words anyway.

"Would you have told them if you'd gone with me? If I hadn't been able to?"

Your questions scared you because you realized they were a huge test of your relationship. Would Peter have gone against your will and told your family about your father even if you hadn't? Would he have broken that trust because he felt it was the right thing to do regardless of your thoughts?

Peter took a long sip of his wine and you could tell he was trying to think of the right thing to say, or, more accurately, how best to phrase his answer.

"I would have gone to bed with you each night, asked you if you thought it was fair, and then supported you through the day until we went to bed the next night. Then ask you all over again."

"Sounds exhausting."

"Sounds like a relationship," Peter mused, leaning forward with his elbows on the kitchen counter. He leaned over and pressed the combination into the top of his armband and grasped his arm before it fell from the socket, placing it on the kitchen island. His sigh of relief was enough for you to know that he hadn't taken it off since you'd left. 

"Would you ... if you had the chance or the technology, would you regrow your arm?"

Peter laughed initially until he noticed you were being serious. His laugh died in his throat and he felt an uncomfortable itch in the phantom limb of his once-real arm. Running his fingertips along the edge of where the connecting socket now was fused to his skin, Peter shrugged.

"What an odd question to ask."

"Spiders have some weird healing properties," you shrugged back, raising your glass to your lips.

"I wouldn't," he stated, "I wouldn't grow it back."

"Really? Why?"

"Because it wouldn't be me. It would come from me and it would be my skin, but it wouldn't be the same. This arm has been through a lot," he placed his hand on the vibranium arm fondly, "And without this injury, without going through what I've endured, I wouldn't have met you or grown close to you. I wake up every day and think that yeah, it was shitty and painful, but it brought me you. So ... no, I wouldn't change it."

You blinked away tears, sniffling slightly as you nodded, trying to be casual.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked hesitantly.

You slammed back the rest of your wine and put down the glass, clearing your throat, "Oh my God just take your clothes off already," you whined, causing Peter to burst out laughing and start fumbling with his sweater. 

Obviously, and mostly because Peter had the entire realm of Stark tech at his disposal along with the armada of Avengers resources, Peter was able to plan your entire trip to Tønsberg by the next morning before you even woke up. It didn't take either of you long to pack - you just piled together all of the warmest things you had into two of the biggest suitcases you could find - and then the next thing you knew, you were on the quinjet. 

"I didn't know you knew how to fly these," you said while Peter strapped you into the intensely complicated seatbelt so you could sit in the co-pilot seat.

"Really?" Peter smiled widely, "I learned when I was a freshman in college. I had to do the whole flight training thing with Steve and everything."

"And I still don't fully trust his ass behind the wheel," Steve said, coming in with the checklist for takeoff, "He likes to get chaotic."

"Not this time, Steve," Peter said while checking some of the controls, "Precious cargo this time."

"Last time the entire Avengers team was on the jet and you nearly drove us into a mountain. You literally clipped the wing a bit on the peak."

"Should I be nervous?" you asked, smiling up at Steve who returned your grin.

"You're in good hands, as much as I hate to admit it," Steve comforted you before turning to Peter, "And you're sure you don't want anyone else to join you?"

You found it odd that Steve would be directing this question to Peter considering Peter wasn't the one going on a life-changing adventure that could rewrite his entire future, but you didn't want to bring it up and seem ungrateful or immature. 

"M'fine," Peter grumbled, "I already ran everything past Loki."

"Val might kill you," Steve stated casually, scratching at the stubble on his chin, "Have you thought that through?"

"Who?" you asked.

"Maybe I'll just hide behind Y/N," Peter offered, "And no, I haven't given any of it much thought."

"Just be respectful," Steve said with a bit of a nervous expression on his face.

"Are you talking about how Val might kill Peter the second he makes contact?" Bucky walked into the jet, "Figured I'd give my last goodbyes now just in case."

"Again, should I be nervous?" you asked, now looking more earnestly at Steve. 

"You'll be fine," Bucky waved you off, "Everyone hates Peter for at least a little bit on a serious level. They'll grow out of it."

"I hate you both and I want you off my jet."

"This isn't your jet," Bucky shrugged.

"It will be when I take over the Avengers stock from Tony when I fully take over the company. I'll be the majority shareholder."

"Aw, look Steve. He knows big words and business," Bucky cooed.

"Get the fuck off my jet," Peter snapped, and you watched as Steve and Bucky both smirked.

"Keep us updated," Steve told you kindly, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly before the two made their way out the back.

"Okay seriously, what was that about?" you asked, turning to Peter as he went through precheck.

"Seriously, don't worry about it. They're just being dicks," Peter shook his head, "They do this every time I go anywhere alone."

"It's kind of cute."

"It's kind of a pain in the ass."

Take off was smooth and you were increasingly impressed by how Peter navigated the two of you out of the city's airspace and out towards Norway. Your stomach was a ball of knots and you couldn't seem to want to eat or drink anything, but Peter's hand on your thigh as he flew and his humming along to the playlist you'd curated was enough to keep you slightly at ease. 

On a normal private jet, the flight would have been around seven and a half hours, but with the advanced quinjet technology, you were surprised when five hours into your flight, Peter started to prep for landing.

The two of you had been able to spend the time catching up on your holidays, which Peter had filled you in on his time with Cindy and Jessica. Your heart ached for Jessica and you gave yourself a mental note to get her something from Tønsberg as a belated Christmas gift. 

The rolling hills and grassy land splayed out in front of you as Peter started to descend and you reaching out to grip his bicep without thinking about it. 

"It's okay, peaches," he whispered, "You have nothing to worry about. I'm here and I'm going to support you no matter what. Loki is very excited to meet you. He's family, remember?"

"That's what worries me," you whispered once Peter had settled the jet on the remote, small landing pad. You couldn't see anyone waiting for the two of you, and you wondered if maybe that was some sort of ploy to have you make your way to town by yourself ... a test to see if you were worthy. 

"Peaches," Peter reiterated, turning to you and placing his hands on your cheeks, cupping your face, "You are the strongest woman I have ever known. You've rallied so many in their hearts to do good and you're constantly supporting and building others up of your own goodwill. You're a natural-born leader, too nice for your own good, and I've never met anyone who hasn't liked you."

"Whitney."

"You decked her with a toaster. I think she's allowed to hate you," Peter chuckled lightly.

"Peter ..." you hiccuped, feeling hot tears build in your eyes, "I'm not ready for this."

"You're never going to be," Peter nodded, wiping the tears away before they could fall, "And that's why we soldier on, right? Headfirst with courage."

"Don't leave me," you whispered, "I mean it."

"I won't," Peter said fiercely, "I'll be by your side the entire time."

A beat-up red truck was making its way up towards the landing pad and Peter sighed, "That's our ride."

Peter took the bags out of the jet first as you took a breath and then met him at the end of the back door. Turning to you, Peter placed his hands on your waist and helped you down easily from the jet as you placed your hands on his shoulders for support. His arm remained wrapped around your waist as a tall, gorgeous, and intimidating woman stepped out of the red truck.

She was in heavy-duty hiking boots, tight leggings that showed off her gorgeous calves (you were instantly jealous), and a woolen knit sweater under a heavy fishing coat. Her long, chestnut brown waves were braided down her back in two long, thick braids, and when her dark brown eyes turned on you, you felt like you might faint.

"Y/N, granddaughter of Odin," she bowed slightly, "I'm a bit rusty with my formal royal greetings. It's been a while."

"T-That's fine. You don't have to ... do that."

The woman smiled softly and offered forth her hand instead, "I'm Sif. It's an honor to finally meet you."

"You too," you nodded back, feeling a surge of power. Peter's hand was on the small of your back as Sif smiled down at you. 

Even though you were terrified out of your wits and you could have curled into a ball right then and there, Peter watched as a surge of power overtook you like a warm wave of comfort. Peter wished more than ever that he could read your mind and know what you were thinking, but he didn't need to have exact telekinesis to know that you were stepping up to the challenge. 

That was one of the things he loved the absolute most about you - you never backed down from a challenge. In fact, you reveled in it. You rose higher to challenge your opponent no matter how terrified you were, and you did it with grace, poise, and an aptitude for diplomacy. 

Flashes of your past conquests and greatest moments flashed through Peter's eyes as you followed Sif to the truck. He remembered when you'd so bravely stood up to Vulture, and Cyclone, and hadn't had a plan until that very moment. You were sturdy, capable, and tough to shake.

No wonder it wasn't a surprise that you were Asgardian. 

"We've made up your room," Sif was telling you, having completely ignored Peter. "We hope you find it to your liking. Lots of furs and other warm clothing to keep you warm during your time here. You've come at a very cold time that many of us Asgardians were not prepared for when we first came back to our native land, but we've adjusted. Have you ever been to Norway?"

"This is my first time," you smiled weakly, "I feel like I should be stamping my passport somewhere?"

Sif laughed, probably thinking you were joking, before her smile fell, "You're royal. You can do what you want."

"Right," you nodded, "Still getting used to that."

You'd settled into the passenger's seat in the middle of the row and Peter closed the door behind him after climbing in. You'd seemed to not yet notice the tension between Peter and Sif, but he knew that the second you drove into Tønsberg, it would be more noticeable. Maybe not with everyone, but all the people you were about to associate yourself with for sure. 

"New Asgard," you read softly as the sign came into view, "Very clever."

"We're clever, but we were too tired to think of anything more meaningful at the time," Sif chuckled, turning down a long dock, "Besides, it fits."

"It does."

"Here," Peter offered you your water bottle, "You haven't had anything to drink in a bit and you've got a long day ahead of you. Stay hydrated."

"Right. Thank you," you breathed, suddenly completely parched. Now that you were here all your initial fears were melting away. Your insecurities were running wild in your chest, but feeling Peter's hand between your shoulder blades and his lips pressed to your temple under your beanie as you drank calmed you. 

You had no idea how you would have done this without him. 

Sif gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as casual side-eyes were addressed to Peter. It was the first time she'd even addressed his existence, and Peter realized it was going to be like this probably the entire time. 

The little bridge heading into the main village was the last leg of the journey, and once the truck came to a stop at the highest point in the town, Sif turned off the engine. You were surprised first by how small New Asgard truly was. You knew that thousands had died in Ragnarok and that the trip here had been perilous for many as well, but you hadn't been prepared for just how small the population was. 

The larger fishing buildings, barns, and other warehouses were down at the water along with a plethora of boats sprinkling the choppy waves. Going up from there were a few community buildings and the town center. A statue of Thor in the center was designed in every perfect detail as the powerful leader he was. Past that was where the housing all began with little cottages and cabins sprinkling the sprawling hills. You could see where the old, original buildings of Tønsberg were and where the new buildings once New Asgard was established had been built. 

You couldn't believe it, but you knew immediately that your father would have loved it. 

"Dear Y/N."

You immediately knew it was Loki as you turned and saw the man smiling widely at you. He was dressed similarly from the last time you'd seen him over the projection - thick black jeans, black boots, and a dark emerald green knit sweater with a high neck. His jet black hair had grown to probably just below his shoulders because it was braided loosely in one braid down his neck with little hairs escaping in the wind. 

"Hello," you stepped up to him and offered your hand. 

Loki shook his head and instead offered his arms out to you, pulling you in for a hug. You'd never taken Loki for a hugger, and yet when his arms wrapped around you it was like it was no longer the dead of winter. You felt warmer, more comfortable, and empowered. His large hands pressed into your back and shoulder as he held you close and you realized it was a 'welcome home' kind of hug and not a 'you're my long-lost niece' kind of hug.

"We're so happy to have you here," he told you warmly, placing his hands on your shoulders, "You look just like the murals of your father."

"Right," you felt tears spark in your eyes, "I mean, thank you."

"You must be cold and tired. Please, come in," Loki took your backpack from your shoulder and opened the door behind him. The house smelled like spices you couldn't name but felt you knew. Old and rustic wood mixed with gorgeous tapestries and a roaring fireplace, and heaps of stylish and terrifying (yet elegant) weaponry on the walls met your gaze. You never would have thought it would go together, and yet it was perfect.

"Val!" Loki yelled, "She's here!"

Gorgeous as Sif, kind eyes, a mischievous smile, and the most elegant and complicated braids you'd ever seen ... Brunnhilde the Valkyrie Queen (who Peter had explained to you simply went by Val or Valkyrie because she considered 'Brunnhilde' to be her old life prior to Ragnarok) was everything you'd expected and more. She was wearing nothing but jeans and a tank top, having obviously been working inside out of the cold, and her muscles rippled royally as she cheered.

"The returned princess!" she cried, "My darling, come here!"

Her hug was much more fierce and a bit less magical than Loki's had been, but it was exciting nonetheless. 

"We've been waiting," she smoothed your hair down after taking off your beanie, "And I'm sure you must have a thousand questions, but a meal is first in order. Asgardians are mighty, but only when we've been properly fed."

"Which I was in the midst of," Loki perked up, "If you'll excuse me. Y/N, would you like to come with me?"

"Sure," you said, never wanting to say no to anyone out of fear of saying something wrong. And as much as Valkyrie and Sif were everything and more, Loki was the one you were here for. He was the one who could give you answers. 

Peter caught your hand briefly and you jumped, startled by your own boyfriend's presence. You'd forgotten for a split second that he was even here, and considering it seemed the Asgardians were oblivious to his presence, the effect had rubbed off on you.

"I'll take care of our bags," Peter offered quietly, "Give me your coat?"

"Oh yes! Thank you, Peter," you said warmly while shedding out of your heavy coat. Peter threw it over his shoulder and nodded to you, urging you forward into the kitchen and leaving him in the main space.

Once you were gone, Peter turned to the two women and clutched your coat casually over his arms. 

"Thought you lost one," Valkryie nodded to his arms.

"Shuri assisted me," Peter nodded back curtly, "You're both looking well."

Sif sniffed and rolled her eyes while Valkyrie stepped closer to Peter, eyes set in a starch glare. She was only a little bit shorter than him - their eyes were mostly level - and Peter did his best to stand his ground as she was almost nose-to-nose with him.

"You disrespect us by coming here," she snarled, "If you hadn't been integral in bringing Y/N here, we would never have let you come."

"I understand," Peter nodded, "I wouldn't want me here either."

"I'd prefer you dead," Sif stated in a bored tone, "That would be highly preferable."

"For a while, until recently, I would have agreed with you," Peter turned to her, "Now, where should I put the princess's bags?"

While Peter took care of your bags, you remained in the kitchen assisting Loki in the final preparations for dinner. 

"I know you've had a long flight and you must be tired, but I always find working for my food - especially since moving here - makes it all the better to eat later."

"You're nothing like what I imagined," you blurted out, immediately feeling embarrassed.

Loki chuckled, another wide smile spreading across his face. When he smiled, his whole face reacted. Deep lines of dimples rippled along his face, his eyes sparkled, and his eyebrows seemed to dance with amusement. He truly was a god, and you could tell now more than ever as you stood in his presence and felt his power.

"I'm guessing this is more to your perception?" Loki asked, turning to you and, in a wave of flashing green, stood before you in battle clothes and his horned crown. "Maybe some blood on my hands as well?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled quietly, "I've had a very set narrative directed at me from media sources for years."

You could barely look him in the eyes.

Loki returned to his normal attire and sighed tiredly, "You attack a city with an army of bloodthirsty aliens to demolish the freedom of an entire planet once, and suddenly you're the bad guy."

"How dreadful," you deadpanned. 

Loki chuckled and handed you a few plates to place on the large table. "Those were the old days. I was confused, hurt, and blue."

"Everyone gets down every once in a while," you said.

"No, quite literally, blue," Loki turned to you and you saw a flash of red eyes and blue, icy skin as his glamour rippled, "Ice giant," he pointed at himself, "Can you believe it?"

"Smallest giant I've ever met."

Loki blinked at you and you stared back, modified, before Loki smiled again, "I see you've inherited our family's sense of humor."

"There's one question I need to be answered immediately," you told him, throwing down your cards, so to speak, "Thor first came to Earth in 2011 and you invaded New York in 2012."

Loki winced, but you continued. 

"Thor was back in the news in 2013 when there was the attack in London. And 2014 in Sokovia. But I know Thor was here on and off from 2013 to 2014 enough that -"

"- that your father would have seen us on the news? Would have known of our existence on this planet?" Loki nodded and took off the oven mitts. He sighed deeply and sat down at one of the kitchen stools, pulling at the knees of his pants as he adjusted to his new seat. 

"I never met your father. I never knew he was here. I should have assumed considering Earth's connection on the Bifrost is the strongest all through our history. It was the original gate, so to speak, when we first ended up here so many thousands of years ago."

"But Thor?"

"I do not know the answer," Loki told you honestly, "And I'm sorry I never will."

"We talked about Thor in our home. We spoke about the Attack on New York over dinner. How could he ..."

"Maybe he was protecting you from a fate he'd escaped," Loki offered, "His exile was not an easy one, and by distancing himself and, in extension, you and your sister, he was hoping this day would never come."

"It seemed to work for Aggie. Her genes are so dormant."

"Fate chooses us for different paths," Loki sipped red wine from a small glass and watched you closely, "I'd imagine meeting young Mr. Parker and kicking off your career under the tutelage of Tony Stark was no mistake. Fate is fickle, and quite honestly, a bitch."

"Cheers," you grumbled.

"You drink?" Loki asked, already pouring you some wine.

"Heavily," you nodded, "And without much of a hangover."

"I see you inherited that too," Loki offered you the glass, "Cheers."

Dinner was more of a Q&A about New Asgard more than anything else. You wanted to know everything you could firsthand about the culture and the people of the small, quaint fishing town. Hearing of their struggle and their history was something you'd researched and read about, but hearing it from the mouths of Loki, Sif, and Valkyrie was completely different. 

"Do ... Do people know about me?" you hesitantly pushed your food around your plate.

Peter noticed you weren't eating as much, and he tried to tell himself it was just nerves, but your hands shook a bit as you drank from your glass, and Peter could see you were nervous playing with your napkin under the table whenever you had a chance. 

His hand softly rested on your thigh and he watched as your shoulders relaxed a bit and you turned to give him a small, soft smile. He squeezed your knee and rubbed the inside of your knee with his thumb, silently showing his reassurance. 

He could feel Loki's eyes on him but ignored the cold and inquisitive gaze while Sif spoke up.

"The last time Asgard had a long-lost princess, it didn't go well," she smirked into her beer, "It brought upon Ragnarok and she was a righteous bitch."

"Absolutely a downright cu-"

"We haven't told anyone," Loki cut Valkyrie off. "We didn't want you to feel pressured or suffocated by the people knowing of your presence."

Or they're embarrassed by me and wanted to test me out first, you thought, clutching your fork tighter. 

You shifted in your seat, nodding along as Loki watched you wearily, "It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with the people," he emphasized, "We're overjoyed you're here. We've always wondered what became of Tyr."

"I fought with him," Valkyrie spoke up, setting down her beer, "Before the Dark Times, the Bloody Times, I fought alongside him. I fought with him against Hela. He was a noble warrior."

"Y-You knew my father?" you gasped. You knew Asgardians lived longer lifespans than most, but you'd never fully knew how long. You figured given the timeline of Asgardian history that anyone who knew your father might have been long gone. And yet here Valykrie was, fresh-faced and young as ever.

You could see the years and pain in her eyes. You knew she'd been through unimaginable things. And yet, she stared back at you evenly.

"Always laughing, and always making the right decision," Valkyrie nodded, "He always chose the right way out of things and he was diplomatic far before Asgard changed its ways from its tyrannous ways."

"That's comforting to hear," you whispered, "Would you be able to tell me many more stories of him? Like ... all of them?" you asked eagerly, and Peter smiled. 

"I'd be happy to," Valkyrie nodded, "In between training and learning about your duties."

Peter's smile fell.

"Hold on now," he said, speaking up for the first time since dinner had started. He'd been silently observant this entire time, and now he spoke up without a second thought, "Y/N is here just to meet all of you, learn more about her family history, and see Tønsberg. You never said anything about any sort of training or royal duties when I spoke with you on the phone."

Peter directed himself to Loki, who had been his point of contact, but Valkyrie was the one who snorted in response, shaking her head. 

"In our defense, we were speaking with you," Loki said quietly as he looked at Peter over the rim of his wine glass, "You should be honored we disclosed anything at all."

"You're not taking her," Peter grit his teeth and you noticed that he'd warped his fork in his clenched fist, "That wasn't part of this arrangement."

"We never made an arrangement with you," Sif stated, holding back whatever fiery hatred she had for Peter with an icy glare, "You're of no concern to us and may leave as you wish. Preferably soon, if you'd like."

"Wait wait," you held your one hand up and placed the other on Peter's shoulder, comforting him as best you could, "What training and duties did you have in mind?" you inquired.

"Y/N -" Peter attempted to protest but Loki cut him off.

"You're of royal blood. There's lots of magic in you that could still be unlocked. You've exhibited a bit of super strength in the past, but considerably under duress, so it could merely be adrenaline. We'll have to test your strengths and weaknesses."

"I see," you cleared your throat.

"And we'll prepare you for royal life," Valkyrie noted, "Whether you choose it or not, you should know our customs."

"Our customs have changed greatly since we became refugees," Loki spoke grimly, "There is much extravagance you would have reveled in on Asgard. We don't have as much time for it here in Norway, but we do our best to touch upon it when we can. Your presence alone constitutes some sort of ball."

"Oh, a ball," Sif's eyes gleamed, "We haven't had one of those in ages."

"Whatever you like," you nodded, "And I would like to be educated in our customs, obviously. I know that I'm only half-Asgardian and that I wasn't raised in your culture, but I do feel I owe it to my father to understand the connection I have to all of you more. Maybe even ... hold some sort of ... roll in all of this."

Peter sat back in his chair feeling defeated. He knew this would happen and yet he'd so eagerly set up the meeting. Loki was a fucking trickster god, for gods' sake. Of course he would say whatever he needed to Peter to have him get you here. It would have had to happen eventually. So in the grand scheme of things, he was grateful to be here for you through it. But he wasn't sure how long it would take before you succumbed to your life here and left him behind. 

The rest of dinner went well, to an extent. It was obvious you were overwhelmed and exhausted, but you sat through dessert listening to stories of Ragnarok and how Valkyrie and Loki met. You couldn't figure out if any of the three were in a relationship with any of the others. Delicate touches between Sif and Valkyrie alluded to some sort of connection, and yet Loki and Valkyrie put off intense couple vibes just in the way they sat and snuggled together sitting together on the large couch while you all sat around drinking. 

You figured you'd find out sooner or later.

"We'll start in the morning," Loki told you while leading you upstairs to your bedroom, "You'll stay here with me during your time if that's alright."

"Thank you for hosting us," you said before Loki gave you another hug. You walked into the room, rubbing your eyes, and for a moment Peter and Loki were left alone in the hall together. 

"Careful," Loki told Peter mischievously, "We'd truly hate to have to tear you apart limb from limb should you cause the death of another one of our royals."

Peter felt intense rage tear through him as Loki stared back at him with humor sparkling in his eyes.

"I'll do my best," Peter spat before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him with strength. To prove a point. 

You must have collapsed onto the bed and immediately fallen asleep, because in that short amount of time you were already knocked out on the bed, laid on your back, with your shoes and everything still on. Peter sighed tiredly and walked over to you, kneeling down at the foot of the large bed to softly and carefully take off your shoes. Your half-asleep body responded to him but didn't assist him as he slowly undressed you and helped you into one of his large shirts you'd brought to sleep in. 

You'd barely been in New Asgard for ten hours, and already Peter was anxious about what the rest of the trip may bring. 

In the morning, Peter was dead asleep next to you curled up against your side. You were on your back, sunlight trickling in from the gorgeous stained glass window above the bed. Last night had felt like a dream sharing dinner with Asgardians who had known your father. You couldn't believe it. And you couldn't wait to hear more. 

Breakfast was an awkward affair, and probably the first time you noticed a very personal tension between Peter and Loki. It was just the three of you over hearty breakfast plates, and Loki only spoke with you. 

"We have a test course, essentially," Loki was telling you, "We set it up initially to test who'd want to be guards when we first arrived, should anyone come to finish us off. But as we learned that we were safe here, it fell to the wayside."

"What kind of course?"

"Like an obstacle course," Loki sipped his coffee, "Any royal should easily get through it. You have nothing to worry about. It will test your strength, willpower, and strategy skills."

He was saying this so nonchalant, and yet Peter was concerned that you were going to be pushed into something you weren't prepared for. You had some training from your father, and Peter had worked with you a bit in the gym from time to time. Usually though it was just some play fighting and it ended in steamy make out sessions on the mats if no one was around, or sex in the showers afterward.

Peter's heart yearned for that time again. 

"Okay then," you sat up a bit straighter, "We should do that first."

"Whatever you like," Loki nodded.

You found Peter in the kitchen after breakfast. He'd walked away halfway through to refill his coffee and he'd never come back. He was on his phone, and when you asked what he was doing he mumbled that Cindy had had a breakthrough at the labs and Harley was helping her, but they were keeping him updated. 

"Nice," you nodded, "So, what happened between you and Loki?"

"What?"

"Well, he doesn't even look at you and you don't even speak up. I know you're an antisocially prone asshole sometimes, but you usually like to be acknowledged. What's going on?"

"It's complicated, Y/N. Please don't make me relive it."

"Shouldn't I know about it though? If it involves my people?"

"You've been here less than 24 hours. I don't think you can consider the Asgardians your people yet," Peter scoffed.

You remained quiet and when Peter didn't hear you quip back, he looked up from his phone to see you staring at him, angry and hurt. 

"Is this a joke to you?" you whispered, "Or do you just really not want to be here?"

"Of course I want to be here," Peter pushed himself off the kitchen island ledge immediately and walked over to you, wrapping you in his arms, "I just don't have the greatest relationship with the Asgardians and I don't want my presence to influence your first time here."

"Again, anything I should be concerned about?"

Peter's face rippled with uncertainty, and he let go of you, "We can discuss this later? After your test?"

You groaned, "Fine."

Loki stuck his head in and smiled at you, "Are you ready, niece?"

"As I'll ever be," you grumbled while Peter kissed your temple and gave you a reassuring squeeze.

The walk to the large training barn was a cold one, but it allowed you to see more of the town. You were by far the shortest person in all of New Asgard other than the children, and your presence, as well as Peter's, didn't go unnoticed as Loki walked the two of you through the square and towards the large training grounds. 

It was a huge, sturdy-looking construction of a barn-looking building, only very Nordic. You barely keep your eyes on it though as you took in everything else around you. 

"We lost half our people in Ragnarok," Loki told you, "And then we lost even more on the journey here. We've been rebuilding, and we've connected with the small population already living in Tønsberg when we arrived. My father was here when he died, and he'd made connections with some of the locals who had preserved the artifacts left here when we first left. Though not as fertile or homely as Asgard, this land is still where our roots began so we've been able to connect with it quickly."

"How did you know to come here?"

"Thor," Loki smiled thoughtfully, "He led us here."

"And you became king when he passed?"

"When he was murdered, yes," Loki spoke grimly, "Valkyrie became queen as well, per Thor's request, and the two of us have ruled since. Sif is head of our security and general ambassador to the world. She's also our lead diplomat outside of Val and myself. People seem to like her better than me. Go figure."

You smirked, "I wonder why."

"Truly," Loki nodded before opening the doors to the training facility. 

The first thing you could think of was the death contraption course that Hercules had to go through in the Disney Pixar film when they showed his training montage. It looked very similar to you, only a bit less violent. But the concept was the same. 

"This is more than an obstacle course," Peter spoke up, voicing your thoughts.

"I think you'll find it's not as difficult as it looks," Loki turned on a few lights and rubbed his hands together in the cold air. It was definitely warmer in the training area, and when Loki lit the large bonfire in the middle where the firepit was, warmth started to seep into the space. But still, the place felt dangerous.

"We'll start you over there," Loki pointed to a rope-looking obstacle, "That will be the beginning of the course."

"Great," you grumbled, leaning down to tighten your sneakers. 

"This is ridiculous," Peter mumbled, arms crossed to keep the body heat in as he glared at Loki.

"To each their own," Loki shrugged, "Now!" he clapped his hands together, "Shall we?"

You started out fine. It felt like a bad, long day at summer camp where you were being forced to do an obstacle course while being watched and ridiculed by all your peers. Only instead it was your long-lost uncle and king of the Asgardians. 

Peter stood beside Loki, and he felt a bit of pride as he watched you swing from one rung to another on one of the obstacles. 

"She's stronger than you think," he told Loki quietly.

"Oh, I have no doubt," Loki nodded, "Do you?"

"Sorry?"

"Doubt her?" Loki turned to look at him, "Do you doubt that she's not up to the task?"

"Depends on the task," Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Of ruling Asgard."

Peter shook his head, "She's not going to rule Asgard."

"It's her birthright," Loki reminded him, "And if she chooses it, she'll have it. We won't fight it."

"She has a life back home."

"This is her home now, Peter," Loki looked back to where you were making your way through a course of rotating doors to get to the next obstacle. You started, stopped, ducked, rolled over and slithered on your stomach, and jumped through the rotating obstacles with stealth-like precision. 

Peter was reminded of how empty the townhouse felt without you over the holidays. He'd stayed there by himself, opting out of staying at May's on the couch since Cindy was staying in his room with Jessica on the air mattress on the floor. And without you, it had just felt like a large, empty promise of a future snuffed out too soon. 

That was supposed to be your home. 

But who was Peter to choose your future for you now?"

You were now about three-fourths of the way through the course and you were starting to feel a little tired. You noticed that the next feature of the course, much akin to one Hercules had gone through, had three large, huge tree trunks that were moving up and down. You'd have to time it perfectly so that you could run under them, and in between each of the three trunks you'd have to complete the step pattern sequence so that you wouldn't fall. If you took one misstep, the small tile would fall underneath you and you weren't sure you'd be able to recover or catch yourself in time. 

Out of all the course so far, this was the worst.

"She's not going to make it," Peter whispered, noticing your hesitance. You barely made it under the first trunk, teetering a bit before steadying yourself in preparation for the next one.

"She's Asgardian royalty. She's imbued with the power to do this," Loki waved it off dismissively, "She'll be fine."

Peter watched as you stumbled a bit on the footing pattern, and one of the platforms fell out below you causing your one foot to fall through the platform. You caught yourself, leg falling through as the other bent and you caught the platform with your hands to heave yourself back up. But now you were off on the timing and you were struggling to do the full pullup so you could make the timing of the next smashing trunk. 

"Fuck," you whispered, realizing your mistake. You looked up at the trunk, having rolled onto your back, and heard the beginning of the creaking of the mechanisms as the trunk prepared to crash down on you. 

In a breath, Peter swung across the course and landed over you, raising his hands just in time so the trunk fell onto his shoulders like Atlas holding up the earth.

"It's okay," he whispered down to you as you flinched and curled into a ball, "It's okay, peaches. I've got you."

The trunk must have weighed hardly anything to him because he easily stood with its weight still on his shoulders. It made a horrible creaking noise as it was forced up, and with ease Peter pushed it up, snapping the contraption in half as it creaked - screaming out - and then stilled. 

Peter jumped down from the platform and offered you his arms, which you eagerly reached out to so he could let you down. 

"She's only half-Asgardian," Peter growled at Loki, holding you close, "Need I remind you."

"Noted," Loki said quietly as he watched you curl into Peter, ashamed of your defeat, and allowed Peter to lead you out of the training facility and back to the house where he could make you some hot cocoa. 

There was a window nook in Loki's grand house that you curled up on once you were back. Peter wrapped you in a thick blanket and pushed your hair from your face, kissing your forehead.

"I'm angry," you said to yourself, "I should have been able to do it."

"You shouldn't have had to do it," Peter called from the kitchen, "You have nothing to prove to them, and Loki shouldn't have asked that of you."

"I should have been able to do it," you repeated, looking out the window and down onto the town of Tønsberg. 

"Y/N ..." Peter sighed and squatted down in front of you in the window, putting his hand on your knee, "It's not your fault, baby. Loki pushed you because he wanted to."

"He did what he would have done with anyone, and I failed," you felt the tears building, "God, I'm sorry for crying."

"Cry if you need to," Peter urged you, "You've been through a lot."

"I thought my life was on a certain path, you know? Like, I finally thought I'd figured out what I was going to be doing with my life. I like my work, I like working with you, and I just - I guess I saw our future as something that was settled."

"Me too," Peter agreed, reaching up and wiping a tear away with his thumb.

"And I think I was okay with never knowing the full backstory of my dad's death. I always knew there was something about it that wasn't right, but I'd moved past it and come to terms with it."

"As much as you say that, I think you would have always wanted to know," Peter suggested, "I've seen you on a mission. You don't let most things go. And I have a feeling after a while you would have felt a little unsettled."

"Everything is so different now, and I feel so not in control of my own life," you whispered, "And I apparently can't even complete something any Asgardian royal would easily be able to complete. So what does that make me? It doesn't make me human but it also doesn't make me Asgardian."

Peter could feel your pain as he looked into your tired eyes. You'd been through so much and you'd never complained. Firstly, you'd nearly died and then never complained when you woke up with the antidote patch on your neck. You'd never gotten angry, or felt insecure about it. You'd taken it in stride. You still wore your hair up, and you still spoke on it whenever asked. You were unafraid in the face of most things, but this was uncharted territory and Peter could feel you were barely clinging to any amount of normalcy you could. 

"I'm going to fix this," Peter said sternly, standing up.

He was about to turn away but you caught his wrist strongly, clenching it. "This isn't yours to fix. I'm not your lost cause to find."

"Peaches, you're my life," Peter desperately tried to make you understand, "And once again, I've already ruined everything before we even arrived."

You could see turmoil brewing as Peter rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat, "You asked what happened to Thor," he whispered, "I killed him."

"What?" you sat up straight and patted the space next to Peter, pleading him silently to stay and explain.

"Well, I didn't kill him myself," Peter sat down and placed his head in his hands, "But I'm the reason he's dead. I might as well have killed him."

He turned to you, eyes red, and sniffled, "You have to understand, I was a very different person back then," he whispered, "I never got to mourn Cindy, because not weeks after her ... death," he winced, "Thanos attacked."

"Oh my God," you whispered, having never put the timeline together of everything Peter must have been going through during the beginning of his senior year. He'd just lost his girlfriend, his soulmate, and then the next thing he knows he's being thrown into a war with an almighty alien. His world had fallen apart twice in front of his eyes. 

"Again, I was very different. I was in a very different mindset. One might say suicidal," Peter winced again, looking extremely uncomfortable, "I just thought, you know, I'd never be able to do it myself, so I might as well find a way to die in battle and just get it over with. And if I could do it while also saving everyone from Thanos, then I saw that as a win."

"Peter ..." you sniffled, reaching out to grip his shoulder.

"I know," Peter shook his head, "I was young and stupid and I was hurting more than I'd ever hurt before. I'd lost so many people and I couldn't fathom losing anyone else ever again. I wanted to take the pain away and lose myself instead, so I threw myself into battle recklessly. I found any opportunity I could to get closer to Thanos and get in his way. But the Avengers always seemed to be there to help me or keep me out of the way. I became angry and filled with rage and in that rage, I made a mistake. I went for Thanos directly and ... and he was going to kill me."

Your hands wrapped tightly around Peter's one hand, urging him to continue while you also did your best to support him through this impossibly sad story he was having to relive. 

"He had me pinned. He was choking me and crushing me completely. I couldn't breathe and I started to lose consciousness. I really thought I was finally going to die," Peter whispered, his eyes far off. 

The smoke was everywhere and Peter could only smell the sickening smell of burnt metal and blood in the air. Everyone was screaming and the sounds of bodies hitting the ground around him were the only thuds Peter could hear over the ringing in his ears. Thanos was growling, staring down at him, as his knee burrowed deeper into Peter's chest - cracking his ribcage - and his hand curled stronger around his tiny throat. 

"Little bug," Thanos snarled, "What change could you possibly make? Who's life could you possibly save? Insignificant. Little. Nothing."

Just as Peter was about to agree (if he could talk) and finally succumb to death, lighting struck, blasting Thanos back, causing him to stumble a bit. Peter heaved a very painful breath, coughing up blood that stuck to his throat as he saw the blurry silhouette of Thor standing over him. 

"Listen to me," Thor hissed, pulling Peter up by the collar of his suit, "Parker, listen."

"T-Thor," Peter spit up more blood, starting to cry, "You ruined my death."

"Your death is not for a long time," Thor shook him, "You are meant for something more. I've seen it. And I protect my people, so I will protect you. Do you understand? Listen to me, Peter Parker, when the time comes, you'll know what to do. You'll understand to bring her home."

Peter screamed in horror as Thanos stabbed Thor through, but Thor didn't even seem to notice or react. He let go of Peter, dropping him to the ground, and all Peter could do was watch helplessly as Thor stood, tore the weapon out from his back that had protruded through his chest, and stand before Thanos. In one mighty swing, Thanos hadn't expected from someone so critically injured, Thor swung at Thanos's neck, beheading him. 

Thanos's head fell to Peter's feet and Thor turned back to him, nodding, as if approving with Peter's future path he'd set before him, and then he collapsed - dead.

Tony had been by Peter's side almost immediately, collecting the young boy in his arms and starting to run diagnostics on his broken body. It was that moment that Peter knew Thor's death was on his hands when Loki glared down at him with fire in his eyes, and whispered, "What have you done?"

Peter stood abruptly and ran to the bathroom, promptly vomiting as you raced after him to support him. You rubbed his back and tried to soothe him as Peter sobbed, falling back against the wall and heaving from his cries.

"It's okay, Peter. It's okay," you coaxed him back to the present as you wiped his mouth with some toilet paper and held his head close to your chest. He clung to you, sobbing into your shirt, and you realized how much you'd asked of Peter when you'd wanted him to tell you about Thor. You'd asked him to recap one of the most traumatic moments in his life.

"It's not okay," Peter croaked, "My recklessness took Thor away from everyone."

"What did he say?" Loki stepped into the doorway and you startled, having not heard him come in.

"What?" Peter coughed, not even attempting to sit up or fix his broken demeanor. 

"Before he died, what did my brother say to you?" 

Loki had an unfamiliar look on his face and even though you'd yet to understand much about him, you could see that he was lost and searching for something to mend only the loss of a loved one could break.

"Something about protecting his people, so protecting me, which I guess means the Avengers, and then to know when the time was right to ... to b-bring her ... home."

It dawned on Peter as Loki seemed to make the realization as well, and Peter felt like he could vomit again. He hadn't wanted it to be true, and yet somehow Thor had prophesized your return to the Asgardian people and called it home. 

You weren't his anymore. 

"Oh my God," he whispered as Loki leaned heavily on the doorframe, shaking his head.

"My brother was always filled with little tricks," he grumbled, "Which no one would believe considering I'm supposed to be the trickster god."

"I don't understand," you whispered.

"How would he have known?" Peter asked, standing and offering you his hand. The two of you followed Loki into the kitchen where he started pulling out the ingredients for what Loki had promised you would be the best hot cocoa you'd ever have in your life. 

"I shall speak with Heimdal," Loki said briskly, "My own guess is Thor asked for his future, or the future of his people, and my next better guess is that he saw you," Loki turned and looked at you, "And knew that Mr. Parker would be integral at bringing you home."

Peter's hand slipped from yours and he cleared his throat, "Excuse me, please."

He slipped out of the room like a ghost, heading up to the bedroom, and you felt a strange feeling as if your chest was being split. A chasm was deepening in your lungs and spreading to your entire body and you couldn't figure out what to do about it. 

"Leave him be for a moment," Loki whispered as you started to head after him, "Mr. Parker requires some alone time."

"So that's why there's been tension. You all blame Peter for Thor's death," you said, climbing up onto one of the stools.

"It was the only thing we could do to spare us the full pain of knowing Thor had been defeated. Thor was the almighty, godly hero to us all. I gave him shit constantly, but he was my brother and I looked up to him. We'd just had a huge breakthrough and we were going to spend the rest of our lives as brothers, no longer enemies. We were going to trust one another and support and lead our people together. In my own anger I decided to blame someone much more helpless than me, an act I now realize was far more rash than necessary."

"He was hurting," you stated steely, "And you still blamed him for a death that wasn't his fault. He was a child!"

"I understand that now," Loki snapped looking up at you, "Something you will come to understand, dear niece, is that ruling your people is a tremendous burden one cannot do alone. And at the time, I thought I was alone. That is the last thing I've ever wanted to be and my worst fear was coming true. So I reacted."

"I think you would agree with me that you owe Peter an apology, and an explanation," you said firmly, "He's lived with this guilt long enough."

"If Thor knew of Peter's future, and your existence, then he would have known he was going into that battle to die. Once again, as always, I am surprised by how little I truly know," Loki sighed, "But yes, Peter deserves some reprieve."

"He deserves more than that," you stood, letting the sound of the stool screeching across the floor fill your angry silence. You turned away from Loki, past Sif and Valkyrie as they entered the house laughing together, and ignored them as you made your way upstairs. You could hear Loki calling to the two women in a solemn voice before closing the bedroom door behind you.

Peter was curled up on his side with his back facing you and he didn't move when you sat down. He felt the bed dip and did his best not to react, hoping you would think he was sleeping.

"I know you're not sleeping, dumbass," you whispered, causing Peter to break and snort out a tired laugh. He turned onto his back, twisting his torso as he stared up at you. In the silence, both your hands quietly finding each other as you looked at each other, you both knew everything had changed. Things would never be as they were before.

"Thor knew about me," you whispered, "He knew we'd find one another."

"Do you think he met with your father? Maybe your father knew who you'd become," Peter suggested quietly, his voice crusty from crying.

"I don't know, but what I care about more is making sure you know it's not your fault Thor was killed."

"Y/N, please don't -"

"Loki stated that if Thor knew of our future, then he'd have known he wasn't going to come out of that battle alive. He knew what he was doing, and he knew what he was sacrificing."

"Which also means you know what you'll now sacrifice," Peter whispered, sniffling again, "I think we both know."

"Peter ..."

"I understand," he nodded, gripping your hand tighter, "Asgardians are your people, and you've never been one to step down from an obligation."

"You don't know what decision I'm going to make."

Peter shifted and sat up, softly holding your elbow in his fingers as the other gripped your hand, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you haven't already made a decision," he whispered, "You're going to stay."

You scoffed, "I have to graduate college first before I become a queen."

"You're already a queen," Peter ran his fingers through your hair, cupping your face, "You always have been."

You shook your head, "You're just saying that."

"Why? Because I'm in love with you?" Peter smirked, "Maybe I'm a bit biased."

Tears welled in your eyes and Peter's tears matched, both of you staring at the other and wondering what would become of your future. Not long ago you'd thought you'd found your home. Your home was in Peter's heart. Peter had traveled all the way to New Asgard where he knew everyone hated him, and yet he'd still accompanied you all this way. You owed him your life and so much more, and you wanted nothing more than to fill his nights with love and sweet dreams, and his days with sunshine and companionship. 

And yet you didn't know the answer anymore. 

The idea of living a life away from Peter was too much for you to bear, and you could see Peter was struggling with that idea as well. You'd both come so far to be together and now you'd have to sacrifice that because your calling had come knocking? 

It seemed unfair. 

"We'll figure it out," Peter told you fiercely, kissing your forehead and pulling you into his arms, "I love you too much to not work for us."

"Okay," you gripped him tightly, whispering into his shoulder, "Thank you. Don't leave me here."

"I won't."

"I need you," you told him quietly, "I can't do this without you."

"You definitely could," Peter smirked, "But you don't have to."

A soft knock on the door sounded through the entire room and Peter cleared his throat, turning to the door as it opened cautiously. Valkyrie poked her head in and sighed, leaning against the doorframe, "Would you like lunch?"

Over the course of the next week, you and Peter fell into a pattern in New Asgard. Loki would train you in the mornings with magic lessons. He was a skilled magician and his sorcery seemed unlimited, but you never took to it. You couldn't even do the smallest of spells he tried to get you to cast, but he was patient with you and you were an eager learner.

During these lessons, Peter usually remained in the corner on his laptop working, or doing his best to connect back with the office. He was just as patient with you and oftentimes found himself watching the lessons more than getting any actual work done. He wasn't particularly concerned with anything back at Stark Industries. He'd designated his projects off to the correct people to handle them and Tony had stepped in for other situations wherever need be. But the one project he couldn't stop focusing on was Cindy. Interdimensional travel was a big project, and someone as driven and insane as Cindy working on it alone scared Peter. He was afraid she was going to hurt herself, and if he wasn't there to monitor her ... he was afraid what limits she would reach. 

But then he'd let that all go as you'd all sit down for lunch. After that, he'd help you train with Sif or Valkryie depending on who was free. You were learning basic skills and fighting maneuvers that Peter actually was helpful with. Once the whole 'you killed Thor' situation was better handled and Loki had expressed his apologies to Peter, Sif and Valkyrie had come around. They were still a bit scornful and they weren't buddy-buddy with Peter in any way, but they'd sometimes complement his fighting stance, or his form, and ask if he was interested in attending any of their other training courses. Valkyrie was attempting to train new valkyrie fighters, but it hadn't been as fruitful as she had hoped. And Sif probably just liked having Peter around as a moveable punching bag. 

Regardless, you started to feel a bit more at ease. You knew your way around the center of town and when it was the sunniest at each day, usually right after lunch, and Loki would go for walks through the town and outer areas so you'd become more acquainted with New Asgard. 

After a week, Valkyrie finally announced to the people that they were going to have a banquet. 'An authentic banquet' she'd said, which had caused a considerable amount of excitement among the people. This meant a few things: a warm dining hall, traditional robes and dress, and lots and lots of Asgardian food. 

You were both excited and terrified. 

"I just am so small," you whined while a seamstress had you lift your arms up and out like a T-formation so that she could work on your dress. Peter had his feet up on the edge of the bed where he was sitting in the chair turned around from the desk, watching. He'd only seen traditional Asgardian clothing a few times back when Asgard was still around and Thor would sometimes show up in the wildest of fabrics. But watching the seamstress work around you was fascinating.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Everyone is so tall," you sighed, looking in the mirror as the seamstress worked, "And I'm just ... normal-sized."

"You're just a fine size," Peter chuckled, "You're the perfect size for me to put my chin on your head when I stand behind you. You fit perfectly."

You pouted, "You're just not getting it because you're so monstrously tall."

"Thank you," Peter smirked, "Such a high compliment."

His phone started to ring where it was on the bed and you caught a glimpse of an old middle school photo of Peter and Cindy flash on the screen. She was calling him again. 

Cindy had been calling multiple times a day since the two of you had left for Tønsberg, and though you knew it was because she and Peter were working on a time-sensitive project, it still caused your petty, insecure heart to boil a bit. Didn't she know how important this trip was? Didn't she get that you really needed Peter right now to have his full attention or else you'd fall apart?

That, and Peter was eagerly answering all the calls as if he was more than excited to talk about it. Almost like he was excited to have some sort of escape from life in New Asgard. You shuddered as an awful sickening thought crept up your spine. Were you keeping Peter trapped?

Things for the banquet quickly unraveled, causing you to push these thoughts to the side, and you and Peter were considered "honored guests." Loki had advised it might not still be the right time for the people of New Asgard to know of your existence to their universe. You quickly agreed. 

Peter's robes were much like those you'd seen photos of Loki wearing at ambassador meetings. Dark, royal maroon-red pants tightly fit his legs met with a matching jacket. The front was wrapped in a golden and maroon pattern set across his chest, and the gilded shoulders shone in the torchlights of the hall.

It was a large town center that had been turned into the banquet hall. And with lots of magic on behalf of Loki, charmed to look as though decorated from the original Asgard. A long table, lots of hanging gossamer plants, torchlight, and the aroma of wine and a good time caught in your chest as you entered with Loki. 

Peter had yet to see the final product of your dress, but when he did it was like he was falling in love with you all over again. You were dressed in a light shade of a peachy-golden orange, like a sunset, and the skirt seemed to wrap around your legs like silk. The corset looked like an intricately sewn golden armor plate and billows of matching orange fabric were draped off your shoulders. Your hair was up, the same was as Sif's, and when you turned and waved at Peter, his whole body seemed to burst into flames. 

You were radiant and royal.

"You look pale," Valkyrie smirked at Peter, "Pants a little tight?"

"Shut up," Peter whispered, supposedly a threat but it fell short on his lips. You'd always been beautiful to him but you were now shining brighter than he'd ever seen you before. Your skin was quite literally glowing, and when he turned away to pay attention to whatever Loki was saying, it was like immediate withdrawal hit him hard. He turned back to look at you across the table. 

You were sitting next to Sif on the right hand of Loki at the end of the table with Peter across from you and next to Valkyrie, who was fiddling with small knives under the table in a bored fashion while Loki spoke of the galmors of Asgard and the celebration of friends visiting to honor them. 

As the meal began, you noticed Peter was a blushy mess, barely able to look away from you. But it was almost like he couldn't look at you directly whenever you looked back at him. He seemed nervous, and that caused you to laugh a bit. 

"How is your dancing?" Sif asked, "Are you a good dancer?"

"I'm a terrible dancer," you laughed nervously.

"That's modest. She's a lovely dancer," Peter spoke up, "Very elegant."

"You're only saying that," you scoffed, "Which you shouldn't, considering how often I step on your feet when we dance."

"She dances with her cat in the kitchen," Peter offered forward with a sly smile.

"That's worlds different," you muttered.

"You'll be fine, darling," Valkyrie waved you off, "It's just slow stepping in one direction or another."

"Hardly. Dancing is a love language," Loki sipped from his goblet of wine. 

The clatter of everyone eating, drinking, and laughing was loud and rumbling throughout the hall, but you enjoyed your conversation with those you'd come to know over the past week. You were grateful you hadn't been seated next to any stranger. 

"I won't have to dance with anyone ... right?" you asked suddenly.

"Me, probably," Loki chuckled, "Unless that's so awful you couldn't stand the thought of it."

"He's a very controlling partner," Sif rolled her eyes, "Pulls you all over the floor the entire time. He's been that way since he was a child."

"That is unfair and you know it," Loki pointed at her with his knife before going back to cutting his meat, "I was never properly trained."

"You were trained just fine," Sif cackled, "You just skipped out on it as often as you could!"

Watching Loki and Sif squabble like siblings made you smile. You wondered what conversations your father would have had with them about young life on Asgard. Your father was a royal, probably raised in a very similar fashion as Loki had (and Sif, as a lady of the court, to an extent) and you wondered what stories your father would have had about his youth. This was the same castle your father had run through the halls of that Loki seemed to admire with nostalgic bliss. You only wished you could see it through your father's eyes.

You did end up having to dance a bit. Loki led you onto the floor once the table was so quickly and magically cleared, and he led you with sturdy confidence and elegant grace. 

"Just follow my lead and don't worry about tripping over your skirts," Loki instructed you quietly.

"Well, I wasn't worried about that until you just said it," you hissed.

He laughed joyously before pulling you close - one hand on your back and the other holding your hand - and started to sway with you. You'd spent a whole week now with Loki and you had to constantly remind yourself that this was your uncle. He was your family. You could turn to him for anything - that's what family was for - and that concept was startling with such an imposing character as the king of Asgard.

"Everyone is here, right?" you asked, looking around as a few children screaming with laughter ran through the hall across the dancefloor.

Loki smirked after them fondly before nodding, "Everyone who decided to attend. And we don't have these banquets often, so I'd say everyone is in attendance."

"Heimdall," you noticed, "He's not here."

Loki's hand gripped yours a bit tighter and he stiffened, clearing his throat. "He doesn't leave his cabin often. It can be difficult for him."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"When you can interpret and hear the thoughts of so many without a filter, it can often be disgruntling to be in such a packed space," Loki said, "Heimdall sacrificed quite a lot to save us. He's in a much more delicate state than he used to be, and he struggles."

"I'd still like to meet him if he's okay with that."

"You will meet him eventually. When you're ready."

"Sound ominous."

"It should," Loki smirked, "Heimdall is a dramatic bitch."

You both laughed a bit before you saw Peter make his way to you both, "Hello," he breathed, "May I have this dance?"

"I guess," Loki sighed dramatically, "If the lady desires?"

He raised his eyebrow as you chuckled, "Oh, I desire."

Loki bowed to you and dispersed back into the crowd, nodding to his people and greeting them along the way as he maneuvered through the floor back to where Sif and Valkyrie were lounging on couches and drinking wine, giggling together.

"You look stunning, peaches," Peter breathed, holding you much closer than Loki had, with his hand much lower on your back and your hand clasped in his resting against his chest. You were nearly nose to nose, and you smiled softly up at him as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

"Radiant," he mumbled, "The most beautiful woman in all the land."

"Thank you, Sir Peter," you giggled, "You look dashing as well."

"Thank you," Peter swayed you softly, "Are you having a good night?"

"Better now that I'm in your arms," you said seriously, "I hardly saw you today."

"I know," Peter groaned, resting his forehead against yours, "Things are unraveling at the labs, it seems. Everyone is up in arms."

"Is it something serious?" you asked, pulling away a little bit to get a better look at his face.

"Unclear," Peter smiled slightly, "But let's not talk about that. This is your night."

"Hardly," you rolled your eyes, "No one here knows who I am."

"Would you want them to?" Peter asked, "Would you want to announce who you are to them?"

"I don't know," you admitted, "I'm also unclear."

"Well, for now, let's just focus on how ravishing you are, and we'll focus on everything else in the morning."

"Ravishing?" you smirked, "Now that's a word."

"You are," Peter kissed you softly, "I haven't been able to take my eyes off you all night."

"I noticed," you hummed, "And I liked it."

There were so many people crowding the hall dancing, drinking, and chatting, that it was easy for Peter to take your hand in his and weave through the crowd to slip out into the hall. The farther the two of you got from the main area, twisting through the corridors, the quieter it became with just the hum of the music and loud burst of laughter. 

You couldn't stop yourself from giggling as Peter pushed you lightly up against one of the columns and pressed his lips to your neck. His hot breath tickled and you clutched at his shoulders to bring him close.

"This is reckless," you breathed but didn't stop him as he continued to suck on your neck. You and Peter hadn't had a moment to yourselves since just after the holidays, the day before you left for Tønsberg. And with all the stress of your visit, you hadn't given much thought to being close to Peter like this anytime soon. But overcome with lust and bursting with love as you'd taken one another in, drunk on the other's appearance in the fancy Asgardian regalia, you'd found the perfect time to let loose.

Maybe Loki had been right - dancing really was a love language.

"Tell me to stop then," Peter breathed into your skin, pressing his bulge against you as you moaned. You wanted to tell him to never stop, but you were also reminded that you were technically in public.

"Just ... come here," you pushed him off you and dragged him around another corner far more secluded. It was darker, only one torch at the end of the hall to signify what you assumed might be a pantry or an exit, and you watched the fire flicker and reflect in Peter's eyes.

This wasn't like you. You weren't this spontaneous and wild girl who pulled her boyfriend into dark hallways in far-off lands. Sure, you and Peter had found some time to get frisky in the bathrooms or in Peter's office at Stark Industries, but nothing this wild.

And yet, you were far more excited than you cared to admit.

Peter kissed you hard. His lips were bruising against yours as your fingers tugged at the material of his shirt, pulling him as close as you could. His hand gripped your jaw, keeping you pressed up against the wall with his hips as you dug your fingers into his neck. 

Peter was crowding you, pushing into your space and you opened up to him with wide arms and an open heart. He pulled away from kissing you for just a moment to give more attention to his hands as he ruffled and bunched at your long skirt in frustration. 

"So many layers, what the fuck," he mumbled, bunching it up in his hands. You laughed and did your best to help him, but eventually Peter was able to lift them up and smile, smoothing the palm of his hand up your thigh and squeezing it, looking up at you as you hummed. You closed your eyes at the feel of his touch, lifting your one leg up for him so Peter could grasp your thigh and press against yours.

A flaming pit in your stomach set your entire body ablaze and you did your best to suppress your moan as Peter sunk his fingers into you. Peter's tongue was down your throat the next second and it was rough, exciting, electrifying, and desperate. It's been a while since you've made out this aggressively, and you liked it. You loved it, honestly, and the fact that all you could smell was Peter, and all you can feel were his fingers pumping inside of you, causing that flame inside of you to grow ... you couldn't ask for anything more. 

Peter's lip tore from yours and he attacked your throat. He knew not to suck too hard or leave any marks, but that didn't stop him from nipping at your skin, squeezing your hip tighter with his right hand while his left hand expertly assisted you in falling apart.

You were clutching Peter's shoulders so tightly to keep yourself upright that you were afraid you could tear the fabric in your hands. Throwing your head back against the wall, you yelped as you hit the dark, sturdy wood. But Peter supported you. In one swift moment, he shoved his thigh between your legs and pulled you forward just enough to feel the friction, causing you to moan a bit louder than you meant to. 

Peter froze and your eyes widened as you both waited on baited breath to hear someone - certain someone could have heard your climax and was now going to awkwardly come and look for you. But all you heard was the rumble and celebration from the main hall. Unfazed by being caught and far too in his own bliss to care, Peter hummed darkly as you started to grind down on his thigh.

Your clit rubbed against the fabric of his thick thigh and you knew it felt good, but it wasn't enough. You needed Peter - you were mewling for him - and you were clinging to him with all that desperation you'd been bottling up.

"That's it, peaches," he whispered, watching as you started to push yourself towards your second orgasm. He massaged your hips, reaching around to cup your ass in his hands. Just as you were about to cum he pulled away, heaved you up from his hold on your ass, and slammed you back into the wall as you gasped loudly. Your legs were now wrapped around Peter's torso and he leaned back a bit to adjust himself slightly. You watched in the torchlight as he fumbled with the zipper of his pants and then pulled himself free, pushing your panties aside immediately after.

As he pushed into you, you couldn't keep from moaning. Quickly, Peter brought your face into his neck, cradling the back of your head as you bit down on his shoulder and moaned again. As always, Peter seemed to fill you up and made you feel whole the second he was inside of you. You suck in a deep breath as he pulled out slightly and then pushed back in. His pace was slow and you could tell he was holding back, but this wasn't the place for a quick, rough fuck. This was a quiet, sneaky moment the two of you were sharing and it felt better than you could have imagined. 

Peter was careful not to ruin your hair, or push you too much, and you could feel that he was holding back. You clawed at his shirt without wrinkling it, but as Peter continued to pump into you at a soft, slow pace, you started to unravel and your chest lept into your throat. 

"I love you," Peter whispered, "I've never been more in love with you."

"I love you too," you moaned, pressing your fingers across his cheek before grasping the back of his neck and pulling him in for another lip-biting kiss. 

"Fuck, you're so perfect. You look so good," Peter nearly cried as he pushed a bit deeper, "Look like the fucking queen you are, shit."

"Faster," you begged, "Please Peter. Please, I need it."

"Not here," Peter looked at you before kissing your neck softly, "They can't find us here."

"Later then!" you demanded. 

You grasped his neck and Peter gasped. His eyes widened and yours did as well when you realized what you'd done. Not that Peter had never offered on countless occasions, but Peter had always been the dominant one in the bedroom. You loved it, and you loved being manhandled by him. And not that you hadn't told him what you'd wanted and he'd done anything and everything you'd asked; not that you hadn't told him what you'd liked and then gone after it ... but this was different. 

Your hand fell from Peter's neck and you whispered, "S-Sorry."

"No," Peter shook his head and grasped your hand, "We'll definitely come back to that later."

A slow and mischievous smile started to spread across your painted lips and you would have giggled with excitement had Peter not continued to move inside you. He reached down into the many layers of your skirts and found your clit again, pressing against it roughly as he continued to thrust into you. It didn't take long for you to reach your high, and it definitely didn't take Peter much longer after to follow. 

Taking the little pocket square from the inside of his jacket, Peter quickly did his best to clean you up as your legs trembled and you used his shoulders for support as he kneeled before you, cleaning up your legs. 

"How much 'later' is later?" you asked once Peter stood back up. He tossed the pocket square into a trash bin and turned back to you, pressing his hands against your cheeks and running his thumbs over your cheekbones. 

You smiled as his one thumb - the right one - rested over your lips. You puckered your lips and kissed the pad of it innocently, smiling up at him. Even though the thumb was fake vibranium, Peter still felt chills go up his entire arm and straight into his heart as he smiled back down at you.

"Not much later," he assured you, "I promise."

And to his glorious credit, Peter didn't make you wait long. The two of you returned to the banquet hall as one dance was ending and Valkyrie swept you up and away from Peter so she could lead you through the next dance. 

Peter drank a bit with Loki while you swung yourself around with Valkyrie and a very drunk Sif. The Asgardian wine Loki had provided for Peter was strong, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd started to feel a serious buzz from drinking. It made him giddy, and even though Peter wanted you to have this night and be patient with getting you back home, all he wanted in his tipsy state was to sweep you up and carry you back to bed. 

It didn't take long either because it seemed that was exactly what you were waiting for. Some people started to trickle out as the clock struck well past midnight, nearing the two o'clock in the morning phase. Peter's hand slipped into yours and he squeezed it, gathering all your attention at once, and you noticed he was holding your coat. His was already on.

"Ready?" he asked, offering you his arm.

You didn't hesitate to go with him. 

Loki waved the both of you off, saying that he'd be on the clean-up committee and not to worry if he didn't make it home until around five or so in the morning. Not that you were paying attention, because Peter was doing his best to keep the conversation as you simply stared up at him - loved up, horny, and unable to look away from his jawline. 

The walk back to Loki's was more like a giddy run as you and Peter tore through the night. You were laughing, screaming, and giggling as you'd pick up chunks of snow and chuck it at the other while tearing through the very active streets of New Asgard, alive with the warmth and revelry of a good banquet. 

But when the door closed behind you at Loki's, locking out the outside world, it was suddenly quiet. Peter pressed his lips to yours instantly, cupping your face delicately but with an urgent shakiness in his hands that you'd come to know well. 

You both stumbled up the stairs as you found yourself tripping over your dress more and more while trying to make it to the bedroom. But you finally made it and collapsed onto the bed, smiling up at Peter as he nearly toppled over his own feet attempting to take off his jacket and shoes at the same time.

"Get naked," he nearly whined, "I don't know how to undo a corset."

"No no no I need your help," you begged, turning and trying to undo the lacing Sif had so brilliantly and elegantly done earlier that evening. Peter groaned, knowing he was far tipsier than he'd initially realized as he stared at your back and tried to think it through.

"I could tear it," he mumbled, more to himself than to you. But your gasp and quick laments to keep the dress in pristine condition caused Peter to moan over you that fine, he wouldn't, and then his fingers got to work at undoing the damn thing.

Once he got the hang of it, it was actually terribly easy. The torso fell away from your waist and the dress quickly fell to the floor with it, leaving you naked. You turned and shrieked with excitement as Peter tackled you onto the bed, also naked, while he attacked you with kisses all over your body. 

The night seemed to pass away in flashes of lust and brilliance. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so carefree with Peter as you explored one another's bodies and tested each other to the limit. It didn't seem to matter what world you were in - Asgardian or human - because for the first time in the longest time since Cindy's return and all the drama with your ancestry ... you felt connected to Peter again the way you used to.

Peter's fingers raked down your backside as your legs trembled and your arms barely held yourself up. He was on his knees behind you, watching as the moonlight sparkled across your skin. Leaning forward, you felt him press into you for what felt like the thousandth time that night while his lips kissed up and down your spine. 

Unlike in the corridor of the banquet hall, Peter's thrusts were now full of strength and power. He held you tightly as you shoved your face into the pillow, sobbing and mewling as your sensitive body hummed and fizzled with pleasure. You'd lost track of how long it had been or how many orgasms you'd reached, but you knew that Peter was making you feel better than you'd ever felt and you wanted to live in that bliss forever. 

But when the two of you finally were spent, you laid lazily on your stomach, trying to think of the last time you had felt anything in your legs. Peter laid next to you, wheezing a bit on his back as he rubbed his eyes. 

"Fuck," he whispered, and when he turned to look at you and noticed you were already looking at him, he started laughing. You weren't entirely sure where this laughter came from, or what had prompted it, but you found yourself laughing along with him. The laughter turned to a full few moments of unbridled joy as the two of you laughed hysterically - giggling into one another and clinging to each other as you both did your best to settle back down.

Tears in both your eyes, Peter leaned over and sighed with relief as he kissed you softly. The stars sparkled above you and twisted through the sky as you kissed Peter quietly and slowly for a small eternity. His hands cupped your face loosely and your one hand rested on his chest as you laid side by side drinking one another in. 

"We really need to get a bed at our place," Peter said once you pulled apart, "I mean, seriously. Not that sleeping on a mattress isn't student chic, but we're past that."

"It's kind of homely," you offered, "Has that 'new house' feel to it."

"It won't be new for long," Peter trailed his fingertips like a connect the dots project as he softly ghosted the pads of his fingers over all the marks he'd made on you throughout the night. Sex with you was always one of Peter's favorite things, but seeing the marks start to fade over the next few days was always his favorite part. It was like knowing he was ingrained into your skin no matter where you went. 

"At some point it'll just be our same old house," he reminded you, "The one we've lived in for years."

"Right," you yawned, thinking of that sunlit room you'd had some spiritual awakening in the first night you'd spent there. You felt so light and full - so free from all the burdens that had been harboring your happiness these past months. So you finally said it.

"We can turn that one room into your lab," you promised, "But are we ever going to need a nursery?"

Peter stiffened, "Like ... for a baby?"

"I don't know. Would you want one?"

"A nursery or a baby?"

"Peter."

"Sorry, peaches, I'm just still pretty tipsy and I've got sex brain," Peter rubbed his eyes again, "Is that what you want for our future? A baby?"

"I don't know anymore," you whispered, "With Asgard on the table ..."

"Is it on the table?"

You rolled onto your back and stared up at the intricately carved wooden roof above you. It was decorated with legends and stories of Asgard's history and past. You wondered if you'd recognize your father's face if you saw it up there. 

"I don't know anymore either."

"Would you do both?"

"Both of what?"

"Would you ..." Peter sighed deeply, his words trailing off as he struggled to prop himself up on his elbow and looked down at you, "Would you commit to Asgard and to me?"

"Do you think it's a choice?" you furrowed your eyebrows and reached up, cupping his cheek.

Peter took your hand in his and kissed your fingertips and then your knuckles. His lips traveled to the back of your hand and then to the underside of your wrist before he left his lips there and looked down at you. His lack of response made you realize that's probably what he'd always thought, which troubled you a bit.

"I never thought of it as a choice," you whispered, "Why would I ever not choose you?"

Peter's cheeks blossomed pink as he let go of your hand and looked down, "Because I'm not a good person and you are."

"Sounds ridiculous and like something the old Peter would say."

"The old Peter is still me," he reminder you.

"The old Peter wasn't my lover, and the old Peter also would know that not everything in life is a choice."

Silence settled as your eyes drifted closed. You were exhausted and the high you'd gotten from the wine and sex was starting to wear off. 

"What would you choose?" you asked, barely a whisper.

Peter kissed your temple as he settled down next to you and mumbled against your skin, "I'd choose you every time."

"Then I guess you know my answer," you mumbled back, half asleep.  

Peter was quiet long enough that you thought he was asleep, but when he spoke up again you realized he'd just been thinking that entire time.

"Would you still love me if I didn't have my powers?"

"But you have your powers?"

"But hypothetically, if I didn't have them, would you still love me?"

"I fell in love with you long before I knew you were Spider-Man," you reminded him.

"But did me telling you change your love for me?"

"I figured it out, actually," you mumbled tiredly, "You didn't tell me."

"Y/N," he whispered, a small plea.

"I would love you no matter what," you yawned, "Even if you were just Peter. You've always been just Peter to me - my Peter."

You noticed a concerned look on Peter's face when you opened your eyes. He was pouting, his brows were furrowed, the lines on his forehead were deep. 

"What's this about, lover?" you asked softly, yawning again and curling up.

"Nothing," he shook his head, "Don't worry about it."

"But -"

"It's fine, baby," he switched his expression quickly and smiled, kissing your forehead, "Go to bed."

But the seed had unconsciously planted itself into your ever-widening chasm of insecurity. You'd breached a conversation you and Peter had yet to have. You'd brought up children, which kind of implied marriage. And then Peter had started talking nonsense. You did your best to try and let it go as you fell into a fitful sleep, but as Peter's phone rang somewhere off in the distance and you watched him through half-lidded eyes pick up a call at five in the morning, fully naked, standing in the window. 

You hated yourself for knowing exactly who he was on the phone with, and for wishing she'd stayed dead. 

You'd become accustomed to the feeling of sleeping on furs wrapped around you at night. Loki told you that he'd done some serious time magic to collect these furs from Asgard before it was destroyed. 

When Thor had died, Loki admitted to going just a little crazy and making a few rash decisions - one of them being a late night drunken time travel adventure where Loki had missed the touch of the furs of Asgard from animals only native to Asgard with names you would never remember - and he'd woken up the next morning with an awful hangover and a mountain of furs from the Asgardian palace that he and an equally drunk Valkyrie had stolen using a very complex time equation in a magical study Loki had yet to crack while sober.

But at least he'd gotten the good furs out of it. And now the majority of households in Tønsberg stayed warm at night with a touch of nostalgia. This silly, yet sweet story was swirling through your mind the next morning as you woke to the furs lush against your cheek. 

You'd become accustomed to sleeping with the furs, but you'd become more accustom to waking up wrapped in them with Peter glued to your side. 

So you immediately felt off when you woke up knowing that you were the only one in bed. Peter hogged blankets (he always had and you'd just come to accept it) so considering you were wrapped in three furs and sweating, you knew Peter wasn't there. 

You sat up and nearly hyperventilated just from the quick movement. Asgardian alcohol hit different and for the first time in what felt like forever, you were a bit hungover. You looked around the large room expecting Peter to be sitting at the desk working, or maybe in the bathroom showering. But the room was eerily quiet.

And as your eyes shifted and adjusted, you started to take in the details.

Peter's shoes weren't by the door, his clothes weren't strewn over the seat at the end of the bed, and when you turned to the nightstand on his side you noticed his phone charger and book were both gone. You stood quickly, wrapping yourself in the largest of the furs around your chest so that it went all the way down to your feet. With one quick look in the closet, your fears were confirmed - all of Peter's things were gone. 

You didn't think twice as you bounded down the stairs to scour the house. But when you turned the corner into the kitchen you yelped an inhuman noise as you noticed Loki sitting at the counter drinking coffee and reading from a laptop.

Your screech didn't even startle him as he mumbled a soft, "Good morning," without even looking up from his reading. You struggled to hold the fur tighter around your naked body, but your awkward adjusting caused Loki to smirk and finally look at you.

"Oh don't be so modest," he rolled his eyes, "The hair gives everything away."

"W-Where ... Do you know where Peter is?" you cleared your throat. The gummy feeling of tears and crippling anxiety were crawling through your veins and coming for your throat, but you pushed them down.

"He had to leave this morning. I took him to the quinjet," Loki told you, "Some emergency back at the lab. He left around six."

You looked at the clock. It was nearly noon. 

"O-Oh. Anything serious?" you asked, tears prickling in your eyes.

"I'd imagine, if it was emergency enough he felt the need to come and get me to give him a ride. And for him to leave you here," Loki sipped his coffee, "Would you like some?" he offered.

"I should shower," you whispered, "And call him."

"He said he'd give you a call when things settle," Loki called after you, "And don't worry about training today! We can review history and other things."

Asgardian duties were far from your mind as you sunk back down on the bed and stared at the wall. You didn't consider yourself a clingy girlfriend. In fact, you'd classify yourself as one of the most chill girlfriends in the world. You trusted Peter and you never questioned his actions even though his past gave you reason to. 

And you wouldn't say you asked for much, right? You didn't demand anything of him, or declare he needed to be a certain way. You supported him and you were there for him when he needed you. You'd always been as much of a guiding light as you thought you could be. 

But what was the one thing you'd asked of Peter when you'd decided to come to Tønsberg? You'd asked him not to leave you. You'd asked him repeatedly, actually. And yet ... he had.

And worse than leaving you, you knew exactly who he'd left you for. 

* * *

"Just to find a home, sweet home, in your heart. Baby for you I'll travel over mountains, down highways, through the valleys, and byways. Just to find a home, right now, in your heart. Hey hey, gotta, gotta find a home. I've gotta have a big beautiful home. Right now. In your heart." - Solomon Burke

* * *

author's note: okay so this is really poorly edited and i apologize, but i've read the chapter through now probably about ten times and i honestly cannot read it anymore.

i know this chapter was long, and i know you all probably have a ton of questions but i promise to get started on the next chapter asap so you won't have to wait as long ! i find it kind of fitting that the new loki series is currently out while i'm finally writing loki into this story. i find that quite fitting indeed.

let me know your thoughts ! and thanks for your patience and for supporting my writing !