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milstrim · 3 years

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Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 3: You Oughta Know

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

Tony dropped down onto the grass near an empty playground just by the water, laying Spidey on the ground gently before breaking his way out of the suit. The mechanic kneeled beside the teenager, grabbing his wrist and tearing the webshooter off of it. He pressed two fingers against the boy's wrist, sighing in relief when he could make out a surprisingly strong pulse. The relief only lasted for a moment before he moved onto the fact that the kid still wasn't moving.

Hesitating for only a moment, he reached for the mask.

A hand shot up just as his fingers brushed against the fabric, slapping his own hand away sloppily. Tony didn't mind, only letting out a sigh and sinking back onto his knees in relief as Spidey sat up, coughing so hard his whole body shook. The kid tore his mask up to his nose to throw up mouthfuls of murky water before settling back onto his elbows and pulling the mask back down harshly. Tony resisted the urge to pat the kid on his back, instead keeping his hands wrung and watching the vigilante sharply.

He coughed, "Uh, hey, Mr. Stark."

"Hey, kid." Tony offered him a smile. "Jeez, I leave you alone for one day and you almost drown. I think you're more danger prone than me, if that's possible."

"Yeah, you'd be surprised," Spidey said, sitting up farther before freezing and turning to regard Tony suspiciously. "How did you find me? Did you put a tracker on me or something?"

"No. No, kid, I didn't, I promise. My AI's been keeping an eye out for you, and she seemed to think you were in trouble."

"You're spying on me?"

"No, not--I'm not spying on you, kid," Tony rushed to assure. He paused and then conceded with the decency to shrug in embarrassment. "Okay, sorta maybe. Yeah. I'm kinda spying on you, but I also just saved your life, so."

"I had it," Spidey muttered, but it was ruined by another cough. Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "I did! At least, until that vulture guy showed up."

"Vulture guy?"

In a flurry of words, Spider-Man explained, and Tony was happy to listen. He was happy to hear anything the kid was willing to say to him, even if it began with him stalking out a weapons deal and ended with a man with metal wings grabbing him out of the air.

"--and then he just, he just, like, swooped down like a monster and he picked me up and, uh, he took me up, like, a thousand feet and just dropped me!"

Tony shook his head, wishing desperately he could see beyond the suit at any injuries the kid may have as he reattached his webshooter. He did seem okay though, if a little thin, if the way the soaked suit practically hung off of him was anything to go by.

"What were you thinking?" Tony asked, unable to keep the scornful fear from his voice.

"The guy with the wings is obviously the source of the weapons that I've been seeing. I gotta take him down!"

"Take him down now, huh? Steady, Crockett, there are people who handle this sort of thing."

"The Avengers?"

"No. No, no. This is a little below their pay grade," Tony explained. Spidey's eyes narrowed at him. "Look, forget the flying vulture guy, please."

"What? No! He's putting weapons out on the street, my street, I've gotta keep looking for him."

Tony pursed his lip, resisting the urge to argue further and wrap this kid up in bubble wrap. He relented, for the time being. "Fine. I won't stop you."

"Not like you could anyway."

"You're meaner than I remember."

"Yeah, well, get used to it I guess."

"Does that mean I get to hang out with my soulmate from now on? Possibly know their name?"

Spidey froze, staring past Tony in a tired manner. He slumped down onto the grass dramatically. "What time is it?"

"You're not gonna run out on me or anything are you? Or if you do, can you at least leave something behind for me? Like, a boot maybe?"

"Are you calling me Cinderella?"

"Sure. Cinder-kid. Cinder-whatever-your-name-is."

Spider-Man turned his head to glare at his persistent fishing. "I'm surprised you don't already know."

"I've got a list. Twenty-eight kids so far."

"I'm not a kid," he mumbled. Tony smirked.

"Nice try. I know your birthday." Spider-Man groaned. "Still no name?"

A moment. "Ben."

"There's no Ben on the list," Tony answered immediately.

"What, you just have that memorized?" When Tony didn't answer, save for the raise of an eyebrow, the kid groaned again. "If I tell you my name will you please tell me the time?"

Tony checked his watch. "8:17."

A very long, very tense moment before finally, "Peter."

"There's no Peter on the list either."

"Then your list sucks." Tony stared at him. "I'm not lying, you just need to be better at being a detective."

After a moment, Tony accepted it, though he didn't completely believe it. "Fine. Nice to meet you, Peter. I'm Tony."

"Yeah, I knew that."

"Are you always this mean or are you just in a bad mood?"

Peter ducked his head guiltily. "Sorry. Just kinda hungry. I didn't--uh, I didn't eat dinner. Yet."

"I can fix that," Tony said, holding out a hand. Peter stared at it for a moment before hesitantly taking it and allowing for Tony to pull him up. Both of them glanced at where their shadows switched. Peter tensed before tearing his hand away and shoving it in his pocket. Tony tried to not let his hurt show.

Peter let out a groan of annoyance, distracting Tony from where he'd been staring at the switched shadows to look at the kid, who had pulled out a phone as wet as it was cracked. The billionaire grimaced just looking at it.

"Yikes. If you need to call your parents, I have my phone with me."

Spidey winced. "No, uh, it's fine. Just, ah, I left my friend at a party, he's probably wondering where I'm at."

"Okay. If you're sure," Tony said. Peter nodded. "So, dinner?"

"I'm okay, Mr. Stark. I've got to get back to the party. My friend's mom is picking us up in an hour."

"Then, can we talk?" Peter dug his boot into the ground in such a childish manner it physically hurt. He clearly didn't want to talk, but that didn't stop Tony. "Here and now would be preferable."

"About what?" the kid rasped.

"A few things. The fact that we're soulmates, why you got involved in this, why you run around as a vigilante in the first place--"

"--I literally told you last night--"

"--and why you ran away yesterday," Tony finished, ignoring him.

"I have a curfew."

"What's your curfew?"

"Ten," Spidey muttered.

"So you were already late. If you'd waited a little bit longer I probably could've explained to your parents why you were late."

Spidey's head shot up, eyes narrowing. "That I was out being a vigilante?"

"That you were meeting your soulmate."

"Oh. That." The boot scuffed against the ground again, and Tony tried not to let his sullen voice get to him. "I don't think he would've cared."

That sounded horribly wrong to Tony's ears. He asked incredulously, "Your dad wouldn't have cared that you met your soulmate?"

"He's not my dad."

Oh.

"Who do you live with then?"

"Group home," Peter answered with a shrug. "Our curfew has no exceptions, so."

Tony hesitated. "Peter, can you take off your mask?"

"Why?"

"I mean, why not? I already know your name and birthday. I can find you pretty easily."

"I'm okay, Mr. Stark. I'm good. Besides, I should be getting back to my friend, so."

Peter moved to walk away, but Tony grabbed his arm hastily, desperate for this not to be how his first real meeting with his soulmate to go. Peter flinched immediately, and the mechanic let go as the kid stumbled back. That horrible suspicion in his chest only grew.

"Sorry," Tony apologized as Peter continued to stare at him. This wasn't going how he had envisioned at all. Soulmate meetings were usually thought of with an air of overwhelming happiness, maybe a few shed tears and a lot of hugs. But all Tony had was a first name, a smattering of depressing facts, and the knowledge that this kid didn't want anything to do with him. "Not an Iron Man fan, huh?"

Peter shrugged, but Tony noted it as a small victory that the tension leaked out of his small frame. "Thor's actually my favorite, so."

"Well, as long as it isn't Mr. America, then I'm good." There was an awkward silence only broken by the mechanical whir of Spidey's goggles as he glanced to the side, clearly searching for an escape. Tony bit down a sigh. "Go back to your party, kid. I'll see you around?"

"Sure. See you around, Mr. Stark."

Well, he didn't sound completely miserable about it, so Tony counted it as a win. He watched as the kid swung off of the trees back towards the neighborhood, a hint of hope warring with his hurt. Only once the hood slipped off of his shadow did the mechanic start moving again, stepping into the suit, which lit up as he fired into the sky.

"Okay, Fri. Find me a kid named Peter born on August tenth, 2001 with all the earlier guidelines."

"There isn't one, sir."

Tony thought for a moment. "Oh! Remove siblings as a statistic, look for one in a group home instead."

"One match."

"Save it to the file. I'll check it out when I get home."

---

Toomes stared at the retreating figure of the Iron Man suit, his mask highlighting the flying hunk of metal before he turned away to stare at the playground where he and Spider-Man had been talking. Peter, apparently. Stark's soulmate.

He'd have to be careful, very careful, about how he played this.

Adrian had been set on flying away immediately after dropping the vigilante so that he could chew out Brice for being so reckless, but the sight of the Iron Man suit dipping under the water had stopped him. What the hell was the billionaire doing near his house? It had made him wary enough for him to dive down and perch a football field's length away, allowing for his helmet to pick up on the two's conversation.

That decision had probably been one of the best ones of his entire life. The kid was clearly very insistent to go after him and his business, while Stark not so much, but that didn't stop the fact that Peter was clearly desperate to take him down and had Iron Man even more clearly wrapped around his little finger. That was dangerous, and it was bad for business.

After checking once more that Iron Man was no longer nearby, he shot back up into the air towards his warehouse as he made a note to put Mason u[ to finding out who this Peter-kid was and he searched through multiple names in his personnel, looking for the best to keep an eye on the kid. No one was going to mess with his business. With his family.

---

"Alright," Tony said as he entered the lab through the window, stepping out from his suit and back over to his desk. He grimaced at where the web fluid had exploded over the desk while he'd been gone. Hopefully that would fizzle out in an hour or two. "What have you got for me, Fri?"

A screen popped up immediately, and Tony was shown his first true glimpse of his soulmate's face. His heart tugged both at the adorableness of the kid pictured in front of him and the fact that he was seeing the kid for the first time through a screen. He shook it aside, taking in the kid in front of him.

Peter.

The yearbook photo left the smile hilariously forced but no less adorable, especially with the way the kid's eyes read embarrassment and boredom in only a way a teen's could. His hair was tamed down generously for picture day, but a few stray curls forced their way loose. Somehow, he was exactly what Tony had imagined.

"Okay. Full life synopsis. Let's go," he ordered the AI.

"Peter Benjamin Parker was born on August tenth, 2001, to Mary and Richard Parker, both head researchers at Oscorp before their deaths in 2006 in a plane crash. Guardianship was transferred to Richard's brother and sister-in-law, Ben and May Parker. They were killed during a mugging six months ago."

"Yikes, kid. Not a super easy time for you, huh?" Tony glanced at the picture of the kid again. "Where does he live now?"

"At the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys under the guardianship of Andrew Fowler."

"Pull up his file. Any records of abuse or illegal activities?"

"Fowler has two DUI's from when he was nineteen and twenty-three, but nothing else. Nothing unusual about him, boss."

Tony hummed, crossing his arms and pursing his lips. After all of Peter's little flinches and shakes, he was still skeptical, but with nothing to prove, he left it alone. For now.

"Mr. Parker does, however, have a record."

His head turned. "He does?"

"He does." Multiple files were shoved in his face. "Nothing serious, sir, but he has multiple accounts of sneaking out and degenerate behavior. Smoking, loitering, and two misdemeanors."

Tony hesitated for a moment, but shrugged it off. He was a kid who'd had a rough life, and, really, Tony had done some similar shit when he was the kid's age, and the sneaking out could be easily waved off by Peter's vigilante actions. He moved on.

"How's the suit coming along?"

"Trials are finished and ready for 3D printing. All that's left is the fluid, boss."

Tony glanced at the table still completely covered with the white formula. He grimaced. "We'll deal with that later. Go ahead and print the suit, and I'm gonna need a couple of things before we completely shut down for the night."

---

I, Peter thought, am an idiot.

After returning to the party, he had changed back into his regular clothes and managed to draw Ned out from the crowd, who had been more than a little confused at his dripping wet hair and slightly bruised face.

"Dude," Ned had asked. "What the hell happened? What happened to the plan?"

"Sorry," Peter had muttered. "There was some weapons dealers. They got the drop on me and dropped me in the lake. And, uh, I met Mr. Stark again."

Ned had gasped. "Really!? Oh, my gosh, is he here? Can I meet him?"

"No, he left, Ned. He saved me actually."

"This is the coolest! You're superhero buddies!" He'd gasped again. "Oh, my God! Are you Iron Man's sidekick?"

"What? No, Ned. I'm not his sidekick." I'm his soulmate, which was honestly worse. Peter would be a better sidekick than a soulmate. "It was probably just, like, a favor thing since I saved him yesterday."

"Super. Hero. Buddies."

There hadn't been any arguing with Ned, he'd been too excited. But, thankfully, the arrival of Iron Man had distracted his friend from going back to the party and they'd called his mom so they could leave early. Not ready to take anymore chances that night, he'd asked Mrs. Leeds to drop him off right at the group home. Mr. Fowler hadn't been there when Peter had tiptoed through the door, so he'd just slipped up the stairs and taken a hot shower, not even bothering to try and take something from the kitchen. He didn't have the heart for another strike.

His spider sense had been going off the entire time, just like it had when he'd been talking with Mr. Stark. It had prevented him from falling asleep that night, thankfully it had been a Friday. But the fact that his senses wouldn't calm down, even now on Saturday morning, was more than a little concerning. Was he dying? Maybe it was the lack of food? Or were his senses trying to warn him about Mr. Stark?

That was the worst thought of all, but it'd popped into his mind whenever he'd caught sight of his shadow while he was eating breakfast the next morning. Everyone in the group home was at the table to watch his nervous jitters as he tried not to look too starved while eating his cereal. Tim and Eric had glanced at him a lot, clearly desperate for him to play some games with them today. The other two younger boys, Aaron and Juan, were much more calm, staring down at the table in an attempt to not draw attention to themselves. Though Jeremiah was winning that competition.

Mr. Fowler sat at the head of the table, a plate of eggs and bacon sitting idly in front of him as he rifled through the mail with annoyed mutters. The man had a lot of junk mail--seriously, he had more magazine subscriptions than Peter could count--so the boys could usually tell when he finally stumbled across something he liked in the mail. His muttering would pause, the rifling would stop, and he would hum in approval before setting the piece of paper aside. This morning, he found something he clearly didn't care for.

Mr. Fowler's muttering paused, the rifling stopped, and Peter waited for the quiet hum, but instead there was a displeased grunt. Heads turned as the junk mail smacked onto the table and a vanilla letter stood out in Mr. Fowler's hands with large letters scrolled on the front of it. Peter's name sat scrawled on the corner.

"Who the heck is 'TS?'" Mr. Fowler asked, glancing at the letter again. "With no return address?"

Peter panicked, almost choking on his off-brand Cheerios as he searched for an excuse that wasn't as flimsy as a feather.

"It's, uh, a pen pal. Thing."

Sure. Not flimsy at all, Parker.

"A pen pal?"

Peter nodded. "Yep. Um, through--through school. It's new. And we deliver them, by ah, ourselves. I delivered mine yesterday, so, no return address?"

"Fun... What's their name?"

He took another bite of his food to stall, mumbling through the soggy cereal, "Tony."

"Tony...?"

"Smart." Mr. Fowler glanced at him. Idiot, idiot, idiot. "Yeah. Tony Smart. He goes to Bronx... Anyway can I have that letter please?"

With a grumble, Mr. Fowler tossed the letter on the table in front of Peter. He quickly pocketed it, finishing his cereal as fast as humanly possible and placing it in the dishwasher. He passed by the table, promising to help the other kids with their dishes and their homework, before walking out the door and sitting on the steps outside the small and rundown building, ignoring the way his senses were still going off.

Peter muttered confusions under his breath as he pulled the surprisingly thick letter out of his hoodie, turning it over in his hands once before finally ripping it open. There were four things inside. He grabbed the letter first, unfolding it to read the loose lettering scrawled inside.

Dear, Mr. Parker,

Letters aren't really my thing. I'm more of a talker, as you may have realized last night, so I've left a new Starkphone in the envelope to replace the one you broke last night. For talking. And whatever the hell teenagers do with phones too.

Peter blinked, narrowing his eyes and his chin dropping as he fished the phone out of the envelope. It was horribly expensive under his fingers and he immediately flushed as he thought about how much it must cost. He didn't think it was even on the market yet. He shook his head and blinked furiously, returning to the letter.

I've also included a Stark Industries badge that will get you into the tower for the next week or so until we move to the compound. You'll receive a new one once badges are printed for the Avengers Compound. My forehead of security will be very excited to be on the job. There's also a credit card connected to my account if you're ever in trouble or in the mood for something to eat. Of course, I don't know what your schedule is, but call me whenever, and you're always welcome in Casa de Stark.

-TS

P.S. Stop by the tower if you can today. I've got a surprise I think you'll like.

Go to the tower? Peter glanced around the street nervously. He guessed it couldn't hurt, as long as he got all his Saturday chores done first.

After a moment of hesitation, the teenager folded up the letter, stuffing it in his pocket before turning back to the rest of the contents in the envelope. Like Mr. Stark had said, there was a Stark Industries badge, with his embarrassing yearbook photo and his name printed in bold letters, and an ebony credit card that practically gleamed even in the weak light of the gray day.

"The hell..." he muttered, staring at it. He didn't even want to begin thinking about how much stuff he could buy with this thing. The thought made him nauseous, and he moved to stuff it in his pocket as well, when he paused. His pocket was a horrible place to put this thing. He didn't plan on using it, but he'd have an actual stroke if he managed to lose it, or worse, if someone stole it. Mr. Stark already didn't seem overwhelmingly thrilled to have a snotty kid as his soulmate, no need to disappoint him further.

Peter went back inside, placing the card in his thin leather wallet that he kept in his bag, clipping his badge to the backpack, and then stuffing the letter underneath his mattress. Before he went to move back downstairs, his stomach rumbled and his eyes strayed back to the card. Mr. Stark had said he could use it whenever...and it wasn't like snacks were going to drain his account or anything. He bit his lip, forcing himself to turn back around and down the stairs. He wasn't a charity case, and he wasn't going to just abuse Mr. Stark's money like that.

The teenager shook his head as he hurried back to the common floor to begin cleaning up the kitchen as he tried not to think about how hungry he was going to be tonight. Only breakfast was allowed when grounded at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, so tonight was going to be so much worse without a school provided lunch. And falling asleep last night had been almost impossible thanks to the gnawing pain in the pit of his stomach. Whatever. He'd figure it out somehow.

Cleaning the kitchen didn't take very long, both him and Jeremiah burning through the dishes and putting away food in less than ten minutes while the younger kids sat silently at the table, trepidatious noses stuck in books, though they'd been allowed a moment of calm reprieve when Mr. Fowler had stumbled upstairs for a few minutes before plopping back downstairs into his usual seat. Once the two were done, Jeremiah went to take out the trash while Peter stepped over to Mr. Fowler, who was just finishing scribbling on a thin piece of paper.

"I expect the receipt as usual, Parker. Not a penny missing." The man thrust the list in his hand along with a wad of tightly wrapped cash that Peter accepted more than a little nervously. Mr. Fowler was very particular about his money. "And don't forget to check the eggs to make sure they're not broken."

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded.

"And take the others with you. I need a few hours of peace."

"Yes, sir," he said again.

He motioned for the children to grab their bags from the hooks by the door while Peter dashed up the stairs and back down again with his own. He never left home without it, and the kids needed something to hold their stuff. Not that he would mind carrying a couple of books, but they had to carry all the groceries back, so the more free hands the better.

The ragtag group bounced onto the cracked sidewalk, the kids waving goodbyes to Jeremiah as they headed off towards the nearest grocery story. There was some excited babble as they all crowded around Peter, words tumbling from prepubescent lips as they all finally got their chance to inform Peter of their very eventful week. Mr. Fowler was never very excited to have the kids talking all at once. It disturbed his constant hangovers.

"One at a time, one at a time," Peter said with a reluctant smile. The chatter died down. "Youngest first."

Eric grabbed Peter's hand in response, the nine year-old babbling away about something new he'd learned in class and something funny his friend had said on Monday that he'd been waiting all week to tell Peter. Next was Juan, who had similar tellings, but the teenager responded just enthusiastically as he did Eric until they went all the way through the stories and ended up at the cheap grocery store.

Peter stopped them before going inside. "Rules?"

"Don't touch anything," all four chorused, continuing down the list. 1. Don't touch anything. 2. Stay by Peter. And 3. Hold your buddy's hand the whole time. Once they'd repeated them all, Peter nodded and led them inside.

The teenager tried his best to get everything on Mr. Fowler's list quickly, but refused to not double check for the cheaper brands that Mr. Fowler was always so insistent he buy. It irked Peter off, especially since grocery money came from the state and not the man, but there wasn't anything Peter could do without getting another strike, so he grabbed the blandest cheerios and the most unhealthy oatmeal and placed them in the basket in annoyance, doing his best to avoid any aisle with some kind of bright sugar. He still caught the other kids looking at cookies and cartons of ice cream longingly though.

Finally, after an agonizingly long time, they were all checked out and laden with groceries as they headed down the sidewalk back to the group home. There was more chatter from the kids as they pointed at fluttering pigeons and scurrying rats. There was even a parrot at one point that Peter was sure someone was looking for. He'd check around online later and see if he could give someone a tip about the scarlet bird that's shit narrowly missed Eric.

All was going well until the chime of an ice cream truck began down the small neighborhood street. Feet stopped and heads turned as the bright pink vehicle stopped in front of a group of clamoring kids. Peter could practically feel their want for something other than the same breakfast and dinner they got every day. Their most interesting meal was usually their school lunches, which was honestly more pitiful than anything the teenager could ever dream of.

Peter bit his lip as he stared at the ice cream truck and then sighed, setting down his groceries and opening the pocket of his backpack where he'd placed his wallet earlier. The wallet that now had a shiny black card connected directly to a billionaire that could give these kids a fun morning for once.

The wallet that was nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck," Peter muttered.

Eric gasped, pointing at Peter who was now practically tearing apart his backpack looking for the thing, panic rising in his chest. "Peter said a bad word!"

"Shit," Juan said in response. There were some giggles from the older kids but Eric gasped again. Peter ignored them, strangling in a reluctant breath as his hands finally stilled after coming away with nothing.

How the hell had he lost it? He'd had it for barely an hour! Think, Parker, think. It had been in his bag, he knew that. He'd put it in the second lowest pocket of his backpack, which he'd left upstairs. All the boys had been at the table, and Jeremiah had been cleaning the kitchen with him the entire time. Had someone stolen it at the store? It was possible but unlikely, what with his spider sense and the fact that four kids who'd grown up in New York's foster system paying constant attention to him. So how could it have--

Peter paused, bringing his hands up to cover the bottom half of his face as he clenched his teeth harder than he remembered having ever done before. Mr. Fowler had gone upstairs. And Peter's story had been complete bullshit. He must have found his wallet and taken it upon seeing the shiny black card just perfectly poised for the taking.

His legs stiff with terror, Peter stuffed everything he'd taken out of his bag back into it haphazardly, zipping it shut so harshly the tab ripped completely off. He grunted, throwing the piece of plastic to the ground and clutching his groceries back in his hands before stomping off. The kids stumbled after him once they'd realized he'd begun to move.

"Peter!! Wait up!" Tim called.

Peter forced himself to pause for them, but continued on the moment they were caught up to him. He tried to calm himself, but he couldn't stop the way his face contorted and he seethed in fury. He didn't give two flying shits about the crumpled bills in his wallet the man had taken, or the few personal items he'd kept in the wallet from his late uncle, but he was horribly angry that the man had taken something that was barely even Peter's.

There was no way in hell the teenager was going to explain to Mr. Stark that the card had been stolen from him not even a day after he'd gotten it. There was no way in hell was Peter going to explain that he, an enhanced that had just touted last night that he could take on the flying vulture guy, that he couldn't stand up to his foster father. Mr. Stark dealt with aliens. Peter could deal with Mr. Fowler.

His steps faltered.

He could. He could do it.

As he later found out, he couldn't.

---

Peter crept up the stairs of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, having already set all the groceries he'd had on the kitchen counter for the other kids to put away. He tried to keep the shaking from his fear, unsure if it stemmed from fear or anger, but he was largely unsuccessful as he stalked past the kids' rooms and approached the one at the end of the hall.

As far as Peter knew, no one had gone into Mr. Fowler's room before. There usually wasn't a point. The man kept such meticulous track of his belongings that it was impossible to take something without him noticing sooner or later, and, not only that, but Peter was used to the click of a lock sliding shut whenever the man left his room unattended or went to sleep for the night. It left the teenager facing the unknown as he finally stepped in front of the door that was, in that moment, bigger than anything he'd ever seen.

He took in a shaky breath. Maybe this was a bad idea. The ringing of fear trembling up and down his entire self told him so.

But the anger wasn't completely overridden by the fear, and Peter was full of bad ideas anyway, so he raised a fist and knocked rapidly. There was no response, so Peter knocked again, just as forceful as last time but now more hesitant.

With a horrifying shiver down his spine, the door swung open. Peter swallowed but refused to take the step back that he desperately wanted to as Mr. Fowler towered over him. The smell of alcohol wasn't any kind of freshly strong like it had been a couple of nights ago, which was the only thing reassuring about the moment.

"What do you want?" Mr. Fowler demanded.

"My wallet." He willed his voice not to break.

Mr. Fowler's eyes narrowed as a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "What?"

"My wallet. You took it and I want it back."

"It's my house, so it's my wallet."

"No it's not! It was my uncle's!" he protested.

"Oh, and was this your uncle's too?" The shiny black card was pulled out his pocket as Mr. Fowler flashed him a toothy grin. Peter's hands twitched with the need to reach out for it, but he kept his fists balled at his side. "Lying to your foster father now, huh? That was a nice little letter under your bed, too. New sugar daddy or something?"

Peter blanched, but then his face turned ghostly white. His voice was a horrified whisper. "You took my letter?"

"Under your bed? Really? You didn't even try, son!" Mr. Fowler taunted, pulling out a piece of crumpled paper and forcing it into Peter's hands. He tore it open, but the paper was so wrinkled he could barely read it anymore. "So, Tony Stark? I don't know if you sucked his dick or something, but I'm sure this card has plenty for me to use if it's connected to his account."

"What? No! That doesn't belong--"

He was cut off by a hand tugging a fistful of his hair. Peter winced but refused to let out a yelped cry even as he was dragged into Mr. Fowler's room. It wasn't much, he realized as he peered through squinted eyes at the bedroom. It was somehow grimy and tidy at the same time, with dust and dirt covering just about every corner, but his belongings were neatly lined and organized on the desk and bedside table. The only other thing that screamed about Mr. Fowler's uncleanliness was the bottles littering the floor that Peter had to fight not to trip over, made only harder as the fist let go of his hair and slapped him into the nearest wall.

"Now listen here, you little shit," Mr. Fowler started, cornering the scrambling teenager as his voice boomed so loud that surely all the kids downstairs could hear him. "I clothe you and house you and feed you, and I will not tolerate your levels of disrespect when you do nothing but run around like the little ungrateful shit you are! Anything you earn while under my roof belongs to me!"

"No it doesn't!" Peter found the courage to shout back. Mr. Fowler blinked in scowled surprise. "And you barely do any of that shit! I had these clothes before I got here, and you barely feed me! You barely feed any of the kids down there!! What the hell is wrong--"

His face stung with the slap that met it.

He grit his teeth, blinking away angry tears. It didn't hurt, it didn't hurt. He was Spider-Man. Being dropped into a lake had hurt, this was nothing. He couldn't really be hurt while he had these powers. He couldn't.

"SHUT UP!!!"

Peter cowered.

"You know nothing about what you're talking about, son," Mr. Fowler breathed, stalking forward until his face was only inches from Peter's and there was nowhere left to run. He scrunched his nose and screwed up his eyes, holding his breath against the man's stale breath as he turned his face away to stare past the man's shoulder. "Whatever you think, this is my house, and I took you in after your last foster parent got sick of your teenage horseshit. Sneaking out wasn't tolerated there, just as much as disrespect isn't tolerated here. So I think that's another strike, don't you? Or a good enough recommendation could get you to a juvenile detention center instead."

"No, please--"

The hand was in his hair again, tearing him forward with a pained wince and forcing him through the door. When Peter smacked up against the wall, he realized it wasn't the door to the hallway.

Scrambling, he swung around just in time to see the door slam shut and then click with the eerie noise of a lock, leaving Peter in the dark closet that was full of nothing but the stench of dirty clothes piled around his feet and the clinking of dusty bottles. He swallowed, wishing desperately he didn't make such stupid decisions, that he'd just kept his head down and forgotten about it and--

"Stay nice and quiet, and you'll be let out soon," Mr. Fowler called before the sound of the door clicked shut and the groaning of wood told him that the man was walking away.

And Peter was horribly alone.

---

Tony glanced between the metal case sat on the table and the window displaying the New York night sky one last time before sighing and stepping off of the stool, Peter's shadow following him. He hadn't been Spider-Man all day, so Tony had no idea what could be holding him up. The kid hadn't texted at all either, though he was sure he'd at least set up the phone already.

Nervously, the billionaire tapped his fingers on the table, one of the last pieces of furniture that had yet to be packed on his floor. He'd delivered the letter himself, clearly addressed it to the kid and everything, but maybe he hadn't gotten it? Maybe it had been a little sketchy for a kid to get a letter with just initials on it and no return address. But he couldn't have gotten in trouble for anything like that, right? And Peter's foster father didn't have anything bad surrounding his name...

With a tired sigh, he asked his AI, "Anything?"

"Mr. Parker has still not entered the building."

"A few blocks out?"

"He does not appear on any security cameras." A moment. "It is past ten, sir. I do not think he is going to come."

"Keep an eye out for him, just in case." He continued to tap the table with a thoughtful hum. Just to double check. "Has the phone been activated?"

"Yes, sir. It started up this morning."

Okay, good, so he had gotten the letter.

"And the card?" he asked. His AI paused, and something hard settled in his stomach. "The card, Friday?"

"It has been in use multiple times since this morning." Tony blinked. That was something of a surprise, but he couldn't say he was disappointed. The kid looked like he could use a good meal or two. He took his jacket off, moving towards his bedroom.

"Great. Glad it's being put to use."

"Three hundred dollars have been spent on alcoholic beverages."

Tony froze where he stood, suspended in a feeling he couldn't even describe. Disappointment? Terror? Hurt? He stared down at the curly-haired shadow, eyes narrowing as he gaped at it. He hadn't exactly pegged the kid as someone who would buy boatloads of drinks, and he didn't even know if a fake ID would work for the kid. He looked all of twelve.

"Cut off the card until the next time I talk to him."

"Yes, sir."

"And track his phone. Where the hell is he right now?"

"His phone's location relays that he is in his foster home."

And that was that he supposed. The kid couldn't buy anymore alcohol and there wasn't anything Tony could do without talking to him directly.

Tony stepped into his bedroom, slipped into some old pajamas, and flopped onto bed with a twist in his gut. Something just felt wrong, and it was more than the kid buying alcohol that likely would barely affect him anyway.

His mind racing, Tony turned restlessly under the covers as the lights shut off around him. Peter's shadow disappeared, the room going with it, and when Tony blinked again, he found himself in complete darkness only broken by the shifting of clothes, the clink of bottles, and the sniffles of someone coming off of a breakdown.

He blinked back awake, sitting up and reaching for his phone. He scrolled through it until he found Peter's number and hit call. It rang. And rang. And rang.

"Hi, you've reached the voicemail of Peter Parker! I'm busy right now, I guess, so call me later, and yeah! Have a good day! Oh! And leave your message after the beep! BEEEP!!"

Tony didn't know whether to laugh or not.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #tony stark #peter parker #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker

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hailing-stars · 3 years

Text

@febuwhump day 10 : I'm sorry, I didn’t know keep moving forward summary

“Oh, look who it is,” said Tony. “The amazing Peter Parker and Iron Lad.”

“I’ve asked you to stop calling me that,” said Harley. He put his laundry basket down on the porch.

“Shouldn’t you two be off doing college boy things? Like blowing up your dorm rooms or terrorizing your professors into retiring early?” Tony’s eyes shifted to Peter. “Or not studying for your Chem midterm on Monday?”

Peter frowned, and dropped his laundry bag from his shoulder. It landed with a thud, next to Harley’s basket. “How did you know about my test?”

“Think it’s hard for this genius and savior of the universe to hack a lousy MIT server?”

A gentle breeze fresh off the lake blew through Peter’s hair, bringing with it all the familiar and welcoming scents of his second home.

He shut the door to Harley’s baby, a vintage red Camaro with black racing stripes, and immediately locked eyes with Tony, who watched them both walk the dirt path up to the lakehouse from his favorite chair on the porch.

“Oh, look who it is,” said Tony. “The amazing Peter Parker and Iron Lad.”

“I’ve asked you to stop calling me that,” said Harley. He put his laundry basket down on the porch.

Peter frowned, and dropped his laundry bag from his shoulder. It landed with a thud, next to Harley’s basket. “How did you know about my test?”

“Think it’s hard for this genius and savior of the universe to hack a lousy MIT server?”

“Morgan’s right,” said Peter, having flashbacks to that time, a couple of weeks earlier, when she had called him from her closet to complain that her dad spent the entire day at her school. “You have boundary issues.”

“And I’m called Iron Man 2,” said Harley.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Cause he’s the sequel.”

“Well you know what they say about sequels. They’re never as good as the original.”

“It’s cold here,” said Harley. He turned to Peter. “Why did we come here, again?”

“I dunno, my memory’s sort of foggy…”

“Oh, let me try,” said Tony. “Maybe cause you’re both broke college students who haven’t had a solid meal since the last time you drove four hours to do laundry, and you know on Friday nights I make my famous lasagna.”

“Yeah,” admitted Peter. “Sounds about right.”

Tony pulled him into a belligerent hug, knocking the air of him, and ruffling his hair with his prosthetic arm. Harley was nex

t, though he tried, and failed, to get away. Peter lifted both heaps of laundry off the porch. The three of them went inside, where the aroma of home cooked lasagna filled the air.

Peter breathed it in, and a peaceful feeling spread through his body. He was home. At least for a while.

The garage was dimly lit, but that was the way Harley liked it. Reminded him of home, and all those nights he’d snuck out to the garage after his mother went to bed to tinker until sunrise, working quietly by lantern and flashlights only, to stay hidden and unbothered.

It didn’t matter how much noise he made at the Stark lake house. He’d always be drown out by Morgan’s chaos or Tony’s rambling or Peter’s frequently moody loud thoughts. It was comforting, and annoying, at all once.

“Burning the midnight oil?” asked Tony, and Harley poked his head up from insides of his beloved Camaro.

Tony wore a robe patterned with tiny Spider-Mans over his pajamas, and Harley had never really gotten used to that, to seeing Tony Stark, Iron Man, walking around in goofy dad pajamas.

“Something like that.”

“I can help you, you know,” said Tony. He patted the red Camaro, and Harley swatted his hand away.

“No way,” said Harley. He knew what happened when Tony started tinkering, even when he’d claim they were only minor upgrades. “Touch her and die. I like her the way she is.”

“That’s not what you said when you asked for my expert advice about your suit.”

“One of my biggest regrets,” said Harley.

“Brat.”

“Old man.”

“I’m not that old,” pointed out Tony.

“But you’re retired,” said Harley. “And that automatically ages you up about twenty years.”

“I’m not retired. I’m a dad, thus making retirement impossible.”

Tony sat on a stool, and with his latest statement, his mood shifted towards something more heavy, more sad. Just the way conversation tended to go lately, as if someone had died. That was about right. Someone had practically died.

“You’re worried about Peter?” Harley guessed.

“I’m always worried about Peter,” said Tony. “And Morgan. But I actually came in here to talk about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” said Tony. “How’s MIT? How’s your first semester going? I need all the details.”

Harley paused, wondered if it was alright to tell the truth, then realized he couldn’t help it. He broke out into a grin.

“It’s great,” said Harley. “It’s everything I thought it’d be.”

They spend the next couple of hours ignoring the Camaro in favor and talking about hated professors, loved professors, his favorite classes, parties, that girl in his Econ class that always seems to evade him whenever he’d worked up the nerve to ask her out.

“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” said Tony. “You don’t have to feel guilty about it just because -”

“-because Peter’s not?” offered Harley. “I’m worried about him, too.”

“He’ll be fine,” said Tony, but there wasn’t any reassurance in his words and his eyes looked a bit lost, evident even in the dimly lit garage.

“He’s depressed.”

Tony took a breath, as if he’d known along, but wasn’t ready to hear the simple, plain truth stated like that.

“Yeah,” said Tony. “I suppose he is.”

After several seconds of dead air, Tony stood up from his stool, and clasped him on the shoulder. “I appreciate you looking out for him, as long as you’re remembering to look after yourself.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Harley. “It’s really like we look out for each other, tough. Take turns being the responsible one. We’ve got a calendar for it and everything.”

Tony laughed, and got that far off look in his eyes. The one he usually got before launching into a story about his and Rhodey’s college days, but on that night, Harley was spared a story about good ole days. He suspected it was due to Tony worrying more about Peter than he was letting on.

Tony wanted to call May.

She was a beacon of parental wisdom, especially when it came to Peter, and Tony could really use the help. He was out of his league, here, but last time he’d call at this time of night, he hadn’t gotten advice about how to sooth Morgan through the sudden loss of her imaginary friend. He’d gotten yelled at, by her, and then by Happy, both of them grumpy about being woken up.

And since Pepper also didn’t like being woken up, Tony would have to go with his instincts this time. His instincts told him what Peter needed was a little bit of tough love.

So, he positioned himself on the stairs, just as Peter tried disappearing into his room for some sleep.

“Tony,” said Peter. “Please don’t be annoying.”

“Too late. I was born that way.”

“Please move. Tired.”

“MIT has really gone downhill since I left, huh,” said Tony. “Students can’t even speak in complete sentences.”

Peter groaned, and Tony slung his arm around him, directing him into the kitchen where’s set up the table with a variety of study aids and all of Peter’s school books.

“What is this?”

“Oh you know,” said Tony. He let go of him, and walked around the table. “You got your energy drinks, you sour gummy candy, your laptop, school books, day old pizza in the fridge, all the necessities for an all-nighter.”

“Why?”

“I’m teaching you how to be a real college student,” said Tony. “And I figured I could help you study for your Chem midterm, since you don’t seem to be interested in it at all.”

“I’m a genius. I don’t need study help.”

“Uh huh,” said Tony. “A genius who’s almost failing Chemistry, and will without a decent score on this test.”

Peter dropped his shoulders, and annoyance flashed across his face. Tony waited for him to yell, or start a fight with him.

He’d been so polite, for the most part, during his teen years Tony figured it was about time for them to be at odds over something, about time for Peter to go off the rails the way only a nineteen-year-old could.

“I was thinking,” said Peter, stating his discontent calmly. No yelling only meant it was gonna be harder for Tony to shoot this down. “I could just forget about school.”

“Forget about school?”

“Yeah,” said Peter. Like it was no big deal. “I could help you and Bruce figure what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Except for your Chemistry grade.”

“You know what I mean, Tony,” said Peter, a bite to his tone. “Find out what’s wrong with my powers. So I can be Spider-Man again.”

“Kid, we’ve been through this over and over again. Bruce and I, we’re handling this. School is your job right now.”

“Well I’m tired of just sitting around, and waiting -”

“-hence you being enrolled at MIT.”

Tony pushed Peter towards the table, and they both sat down.

“Listen, Pete,” he told him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what it’s like to have these powers and suddenly have them disappear. It’s been… rough on you. And May and I get that. We let you mope around New York all summer long, but it’s time to pick yourself up and keep moving forward.”

Peter stared at the table, at all the study materials, and it was hard for Tony to interpret what he was thinking.

“Think of it as a shot at having some normalcy,” he said. “Before you get your powers back and with them, all of Spider-Man’s responsibilities.”

“What if,” said Peter. His mask of uninterest started to crack. “And what if they don’t come back?”

“They will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” said Tony. “I literally saved this whole universe, and our friend Professor Hulk brought half the population back. I think we’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah,” said Peter, though he didn’t sound convinced. He looked away from Tony, and at his school books. “I guess we better get started.”

Tony frowned.

He had been hoping for more conversation, or at least to break through to the kid, in some way, even if it was just a talk and a vent.

Instead he had an almost breakthrough. A tiny crack in the disguise. And that wasn’t good enough, even if Peter was studying and allowing Tony to help him.

When they’re done, Peter disappeared to his room to get some sleep, and Tony sat up, at the table, sipping on a god-awful energy drink and wondering who he’d have to bribe to become a professor at MIT.

#febuwhumpday10 #irondad #irondad fic #Peter parker #harley keener #Tony and peter

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saxophone-playa · 4 years

Text

A Bad Day

@thatonetranny

OK, I know this took a long time. sorry. I could explain why, but I don’t really want to.

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson

Fandom: Marvel

Word Count: 1760

Summary: Peter has a meltdown after Flash becomes the tipping point for him on a Bad Day. Ned helps, and irondad comes to the rescue.

TW: Meltdown, literally one cuss word

Peter enjoyed being alone. Sure, he liked hanging out with Tony in the lab, watching a movie with May, or playing video games with Ned. But being alone gave him space, space that the world didn’t want to offer, especially on Bad Days. Days when sounds were too loud, lights were too bright and anytime he tried to talk to someone they would brush him off or just annoy him. After days like that, being alone in his room with no one but his phone for company sounds like the greatest thing in the world.

So, when Peter woke that morning with the sun shining too bright and his pajamas feeling as though they could strangle him, he knew today was going to be a Bad Day. Brushing his teeth was a pain and he could barely swallow half an apple (he was going to be starving later, stupid metabolism). He immediately put his headphones in right outside his apartment door and started his walk to the bus.

The bus was surprisingly not too bad, yeah the jerky movements could be annoying, but to Peter they were familiar. A nice calm before the storm he knew. He kept his headphones on as long as he could, but the bell rang and the class had started. Off went the headphones and in came sensory input. He tried his best to focus and take notes while the teacher droned on about something he probably already learned with Mr. Stark. He’ll have to ask Ned for the notes later.

He was dealing with his Bad Day pretty well so far, he’s had all of his classes, except for his last one, with almost zero trouble. Ned even gave him his leftover lunch to help with his lack of breakfast. Things were going well, that is until Flash decided to be extra Flash today. Peter was grabbing the books he needed for his last class, gingerly picking up and putting down each one to make sure not to accidentally tear them up. When Flash came in and slammed his locker door and all his books fell to the ground.

“What’s wrong penis? Are you still being weird? I thought you got rid of that.” He said with a smirk, thinking he did something cool.

Peter could feel his blood boiling and itching. He just had one more class. One more. And then he could be on his way to his ro- Mr. Stark. He had to go to the tower today and work in the lab with Mr. Stark. That kind of just ruined peter. Yeah, he loved going to the lab and helping Mr. Stark, he would do that any day. But today? On a Bad Day? Why?

“Hello, Penis!” Flash started snapping his fingers in front of his face, and that was pretty much the straw that broke the camel's back.

Peter clamped his hands over his ears and screwed his eyes shut and sat down in the corner of the wall and his locker. Luckily Ned had forgotten to give him his notes and wouldn’t have seen him for the rest of the day and asked his teacher if he could give them to him quickly before class started. He honestly wasn’t expecting to see peter in a corner in a ball with flash standing there looking shocked and almost worried for the teenager.

“Shit, Peter? Are you okay?” Ned tried to keep his voice low and quiet to keep from distressing Peter more.

Peter just shook his head.

“Okay, I know what to do. You told me like a year ago.” Ned started to recall the list Peter gave him after a similar thing happened last year at their first Acadec meet.

“First, look for the cause, get rid of the cause.” He looks at Flash and glares like his mom does when he interrupts her during a phone call. It’s enough to make Flash runoff, deciding that he didn’t want to be a part of the situation anymore.

“Second, block sensory input.:” He dug around in his friend's bag to find his headphones and hat to block out the sound and light.

“Three, try, and communicate.” He looks at his friend's face and hopes his teacher won’t be mad for staying out of class for so long.

“Hey Peter, you doing better?” Still keeping his voice quiet he manages to get a nod out of his friend.

“Do you want to go to the nurse?” Knowing the nurse will help him way more than he could.

“No.” came his quiet timid response.

Ned bit his tongue in thought and tried to decide what was best for his friend.

“Do you want to go home? To May?”

His friend once again shook his head and simply said “Work.” in the same timid voice.

Ned didn’t know what to do. He was supposed to take him to the nurse so she could help him, but trying to force him there could lead to an even bigger meltdown. And Mays at work so he definitely doesn’t want him home alone right now.

“Well, what do you want peter?”

Now, Peter is smart, like really smart. All A’s kind of smart, memorized Pi in the fifth grade kind of smart. You get it, Peter is smart. But, in situations like these all that smart he has gone out the metaphorical window and he reverts into what Ned likes to call The Lizard Brain. There is no thought process or best decision for what variables there happen to be at that moment. There is only: DON’T DIE FROM THE SCARY WORLD. So when he gives his answer to Ned's simple questions, he doesn’t think.

“Tony.”

Tony was having a surprisingly good day. He ate breakfast, did his morning workout, talked with pepper on her lunch break, and was even productive in furthering their new stark phone they are planning on releasing soon. Overall, a Good Day. Plus, today was a lab day with Peter, even better. Peter was the highlight of his day, any day. He liked having the kid around, someone to match his level of intelligence. It was easy having him around, he said what he thought most of the time and would appreciate whatever Tony said back. Sure he had his days where communicating was hard, they just learned how to work with each other when that happened.

He was just about to remind Happy to pick up Peter when he got a call from the boy.

“Hey kid, I was just about to get Happy to-”

“OH my god, hi, sorry sir, to interrupt you, but we kinda have a situation.” Tony was a little startled, to say the least when he heard the voice of a different teenage boy than the one he was expecting.

“Who are you? And what situation?” to say Tony was concerned would be an understatement. There goes that Good Day.

“Um, I’m Ned, Peter's friend. And Peter is the situation right now.”

“Hi Ned’s Peter’s friend, you wanna tell me what’s wrong with the kid?” hearing that there was something up with his kid didn’t sit right with Tony.

“Yeah, uh, something happened between him and a classmate of ours” -Did Peter get into a fight? He doesn’t do that. And if he did, it would be the other kid in the ‘situation’, not Peter- “And he started having a meltdown, -Peter, does he know what a meltdown is? He does? Okay.- and I was able to calm him down, but he can’t really go back to class like this. And May’s at work. So we called you.”

By the time Fred- Ned? Ned had finished talking he already had his shoes on and was heading towards the elevator.

“Okay, thanks, Fred. Tell Peter I’ll be there to pick him up in about ten minutes and to go to the front office.” he hung up not even waiting for an answer. Getting in his car and he started down the road to go and get his kid.

When Peter heard Tony say that he was on his way he was able to calm down some, but not all the way. He could still feel the rumbling of the A/C below them and the hat he wore blocked out most of the light from the ceilings, but not the shiny floor of his school. When he stood up to leave the front office he swayed a bit on his feet, but with the help of Ned, he was able to get there without fail.

After a few minutes Peter guessed, Tony showed up with the heavy-duty headphones and sunglasses. Peter gratefully put them on and got up to leave. He waved at Ned hoping he wouldn’t get in trouble because of him and stepped outside.

The ride was quiet on the way to the tower but Peter liked it that way. Mr.Stark didn’t pressure him to talk when he didn't want to. The car had a more soothing rumble compared to the one in the school.

When they arrive at the tower Tony leads Peter to the couch, yes Peter remembers what he said about being alone, especially on Bad Days, but that doesn’t apply right now. He just wants to watch a movie with his father-figure, is that too much to ask for? Tony leaves to get Peter's favorite blanket he has in his room. “No, I’m not a dad, I swear” he whispers to the posters in Peter's room.

He sits down beside the spiderling and covers them both with the blanket. After a while when Peter is calmed down more he takes off the headphone and sunglasses and looks at Tony. He’s not looking at his eye but at his ear, eyebrow, nose, chin, and anywhere else except for the eyes, Tony doesn’t care, he just wants to know what his kids got to say so soon after a meltdown.

“Thank you.” he practically whispers.

“For what Underoos?” he matches his tone, afraid he’ll break something if he doesn’t.

“For helping me. For being there.” his speech is still a little broken up, but Tony doesn’t care.

“You don’t have to thank me for that bambino. I'll be there no matter what.” Just like Peter does sometimes, he reverted into The Lizard Brain and he dared a kiss to the top of his kid’s curls. He froze some afterward, but after hearing the contented sigh that came out of the kid, he knew it was the right thing to do.

#irondad #spiderson #autistic peter parker #actually autistic

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just-a-happening · 4 years

Text

Hide & Seek | P.P

Summary: In which a babysitting job goes awry for Peter and he needs your help tracking down a very special Avenger’s daughter.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2,705

Author’s Note: okay so this one is super long but I really, really love how it turned out. I’ve had this idea brewing in my head for a while and I didn’t think I’d ever get around to writing it because I didn’t think I’d be as into writing Peter stories but this might make me reconsider. I like to think this takes place in the months between Endgame and FFH. enjoy! xx

There was a boy on your fire escape.

You recognized him almost immediately. He worked at the station behind you in Intro to Mechatronics with Ned Leeds, he sat two rows ahead of you in Chemistry and he was on the National Decathlon team with your friend MJ.

He also happened to live two floors above you.

Peter had his back to you, his body bent over the railing as if looking for something he’d dropped. You could hear him—“Shit! Shit! Shit!”— through the slightly ajar window, which you’d left cracked the night before.

You raised a fist to knock on the glass (softly, so you wouldn’t scare him) but before you got the chance, he perked up and whipped around to face you so fast you were the one who ended up startled.

His eyes met yours and his face flooded with disappointment.

You tried not to take it personally.

“Oh! H-Hey,” he said, struggling to keep his tone casual. His hands hovered at his side awkwardly while he decided where to put them. In the end he just crossed them over his chest, still fidgeting. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, um, scare you. I just thought you might be someone else.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You were expecting someone else?” You made a point to gesture to your things. “Inside my bedroom?”

He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “In my defence, I didn’t, uh, necessarily know this was your room, um, specifically.”

Over the last few months you and Peter had formed an odd kind of friendship.

Entire apartment complexes were built around the city in the last year to accommodate the blipped. Families started reappearing in their old homes only to find that they were now someone else’s new one. In the chaos you and your family just so happened to have ended up in the same building as Peter Parker and his aunt.

Peter was always around, of course, which made it easy to fall into each other in a very casual, easy way. Many nights when you were too nervous to sleep you’d climb out onto the fire escape only to find Pete doing the same. You never talked about why you were both up, a kind of mutual understanding, so instead, you talked about everything else.

But sometimes you would run into him in class or you would both awkwardly reach for the front door and he would right through you—like you weren’t really there.

Everyone was recovering from the blip, but something told you Peter Parker lost more than just five years.

He was bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, his eyes scanning the levels below you. Curious, you pushed what was left of the pane up and copied him, your gaze landing on nothing other than Mrs. Sardowski’s rapidly wilting house plants. You frowned, sitting on the window’s ledge.

“So,” you said, pulling his attention back to you. “What are you looking for?”

He let out a humourless chuckle. “It’s less of a what and more like a … who?”

You squinted up at him, the mid-morning sun peaking between the fire escape’s bars. “I hope you weren’t babysitting Parker because, y’know, parents don’t usually appreciate that kind of thing.”

You meant it as a joke but then Peter grimaced and you made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a horrified gasp.

“Oh.”

He groaned, throwing his hands up to cover his face. “I know, okay! We were playing hide and seek and I told her—I told her, I swear—that outside was off limits but she doesn’t listen! She never listens!”

You let out a low whistle.

“I’ve never babysat before!” he justified frantically, his eyes wide and scared. He started pacing the fire escape, the metal rattling with every step. “Pepper had this–this thing and Happy’s in Coney Island with May and I thought ‘how hard could it be!’ and it was actually really, really hard and now she’s gone and—”

You frowned, your brain making the connections painfully slow. “Pepper? As in Potts?”

If he’d heard you he gave no sign of it. He’d finally come to a stop at the far end by your brother’s window, his hands curing around the railing so tight his knuckles were turning white. You climbed all the way out, careful not to trip on the rusting metal bars.

He was rambling. “I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find her anywhere, she’s gone! What if she’s not even here? What if she’s just wandering the streets or worse what if–”

“Pepper Potts,” you repeated slowly. “The Pepper Potts? The one married to–?”

Peter didn’t stop. “God, if I lose Morgan I don’t–I don’t know what I’m going to do. How am I supposed to tell them? Who am I kidding, I can’t tell them! They would never forgive me. Hell, if anything happens to her I’ll never forgive m–”

Morgan. You’d heard that name before. After everyone came back and we found out who’d finally defeated Thanos you remember watching a telecast in one of the shelters that said he was survived by his wife and his daughter—Morgan.

You held up a hand and he shut up, your panicked gaze meeting his. “Wait … are you–are you actually saying you lost Iron Man’s daughter?”

He didn’t say anything, but by the way his shoulders fell in defeat he didn’t have to.

“Oh my God, Peter–”

He winced, his eyes pleading. “Help me. Please, help me.”

Your mouth fell open, trying to find the right words and failing spectacularly. Instead you just sputtered pathetically before finally settling on: “I can’t!”

He let out an exasperated sigh that sounded more like a whine. “Why not?!”

A good question. Part of you knew you wanted to help him, but another part, a much smaller part, begged you to stay out of it—you didn’t want to be one half of the duo that lost Morgan Stark.

But you knew that wasn’t actually it. Things with Peter had taken a turn for the weird, your heart practically beating out of it’s chest anytime you so much as caught sight of him. And your late night talks were getting longer with every passing evening, most of the time well into morning.

You were afraid of how an entire afternoon spent with Peter would make you feel.

You swallowed hard, motioning to vaguely back at your room. “I have homework! So much homework that I really need to finish because I really can’t fail the exam.”

He ignored you, peering into your room as if to corroborate your excuse—which wasn’t an excuse—but you knew it was pointless. You’d left your notes on your desk across the room, most of them half-hidden under textbooks.

“You’re taking Molecular Cell Biology?” he asked and your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. You glanced back to make sure your notes were where you left them and sure enough there they were, barely even legible.

For the second time today you were left speechless. “Yeah, I am but how did–”

He didn’t let you finish. “And you’re failing Molecular Cell Biology.”

“Hey!” you shoved him lightly, momentarily forgetting what you were asking.

He looked back at you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry–I’m sorry. But you are,” you glared and he held his hands up defensively. “You are! But you don’t have to be. I can help you–tutor you! I can tutor you.”

You considered it. You knew that Mrs. Palomino had maxed out her extra credit assignment threshold for you and you were down to your last chance to pass her class with a respectable grade.

You sighed. “Okay fine Parker,” you conceded and he all but cheered. “I’ll help you. But I swear to God if I don’t get an A …”

He was already climbing the fire escape, taking the stairs two by two. “I’ll get you better than an A! I’ll get you an A plus! An A plus, plus!”

You followed him, scowling at the back of his head. “That doesn’t exist!”

You ended up in his bedroom, cross-legged on his navy plaid comforter listening as he numbered off the things Morgan liked form the floor while also evaluating his choice on wall decor. He had maps and posters and random scribbled notes in red, messy handwriting.

You let your mind wander to a future where being in his room was normal and being in his bed was normal and asking him to join you on it was normal and you didn’t have to guess what was happening behind those kind eyes because he would want to tell you.

He was in the middle of contemplating whether we should chance the subway or get the cops involved when his voice broke suddenly broke through your distracted thoughts. “Are you listening?”

You blinked a few times, trying to bite down the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Morgan likes spare parts, hamburgers and sour gummy worms,” you repeated dutifully, hoping to God he wouldn’t ask you why you were suddenly flustered.

He didn’t.

“Right. She also really likes cats, don’t forget cats. Which is funny because Tony wasn’t really a pet guy,” he mumbled, his gaze suddenly a million miles away. “He did like to take in strays, though.”

You knew that once upon a time Peter was Tony Stark’s intern, but the affection in his voice was so visceral you felt it in your own chest.

“You know what I still can’t figure out?” you asked abruptly.

He glanced at you. “What’s up?”

“How did you end up babysitting Tony Stark’s daughter?” you asked and you watched as his lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. “You were snapped too, so you barely knew Morgan, right?”

“Right,” he said, in a voice right above a whisper. Then he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

He looked like he was struggling with what to say next. “Well, when Tony uh, you know, I wanted to help with whatever I could even though I wasn’t, uh, his intern anymore. So,I told Pepper to call me whenever and it turns out she needed a lot of help with Morg.”

You wanted to ask him more about it, but it felt too personal. So instead, you focused on Morgan and where a six year old girl could possibly want to go. And suddenly, it came to you. You knew where Morgan was and you didn’t have to take a subway or call the NYPD to find her.

You leaped off the bed, eyes wide. “Get up,” you said, but he just stared up at you quizzically from his spot on the floor. You nudged him with your foot excitedly, “ Get up!”

And he did. Reluctantly.

“Think about it,” you explained impatiently. “What has burgers, sour gummy worms and a cute kitty cat?”

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he thought about it and hear the ‘click’ in his brain when he finally got it.

He jumped up. “Delmar!”

The next few minutes were a blur. You both scrambled to Peter’s front door and ducked into the elevator before the doors could close and took it four floors down to the lobby, where you were off again out the door and onto the street.

A fire destroyed Delmar’s Deli years ago and after the blip things got even more messy. But he stayed in Queens and ended up relocating to a new deli just a few blocks from your apartment, a deli you’d come to know and love.

You were sprinting a few paces behind Peter but when you finally made it to the familiar store front, you both reached for the handle at the same time, which you immediately realized was silly because you didn’t even know Morgan so you stood back and let him walk in first.

Delmar’s was as comforting as it was cluttered. You skirted past discarded magazine racks and an impressive candy selection on your way to the back, which is where Delmar made his world-famous (according to him) sandwiches and burgers. He was there now, laughing at something someone you couldn’t see said.

“Hey Mister Delmar,” Peter greeted cheerfully, not even out of breath.

You, on the other hand, were practically gasping for breath, supporting yourself with the topping display, your side pressed to the cool glass. You searched the place for the bodega’s unofficial cat, Murph, who always came up and curled himself around your ankles when you came in but he was nowhere in sight.

“Peter!” Delmar replied happily. He glanced over at you and his smile widened, “Chiquita!”

You giggled at the nickname and waved.

“Mister Delamar, have you seen a little girl?” Peter asked and you could tell he was trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “Her name’s Morgan and I’m really hoping she’s here.”

Delmar glanced down at his feet. “Morgancita, I think he found you.”

As he said it you watched in total amazement as Morgan Stark crawled out from behind the sandwich station, Murph sitting happily in her arms. Until this moment you’d only seen Morgan on the TV, and the screen didn’t do her justice. She was a carbon copy of her dad, all dark eyes full of mischief. She cooed at Murph one last time before putting him down gently.

She put her hands behind her back and frowned up at Peter, who looked so relieved you worried he might pass out.

“You win Pete,” she said sadly.

Peter crouched down in front of her, looking torn between wanting to hug her and throttle her. In the end he settled on ruffling her hair.

“Morgan, never ever do that again, okay?”

She furrowed her brows adorably. “But Pete, I’m going to have to find better hiding places if I’m going to win.”

Peter’s eyes softened. “Just promise you’ll play by the rules next time.”

Morgan didn’t look happy, “But that’s boring.”

“Promise?” Peter said, holding out his pinky.

Morgan watched the pinky with one of the most calculating looks you’d ever seen. But after a few seconds, she shrugged and wrapped her tiny pinky around Peter’s. “Promise.”

Then they both turned to face you and you were suddenly incredibly nervous but you didn’t have enough time to contemplate what to say because before you knew it Morgan’s dark gaze landed on you.

She tilted her head, “Who are you?”

Peter placed a hand on her back and smiled softly at you, and you felt heat flare up in the pit if your stomach. “She’s a friend of mine. We go to school together and she helped me find you.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Morgan asked, narrowing her eyes at you.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Not when you break the rules, Cymorg.”

She fixed her attention back to you. “Hi,” she said, holding out her hand like a miniature professional. “I’m Morgan.”

You smiled down at her, taking her fingers in yours. “It is very nice to meet you, Morgan.”

You bent down so you were level with her and beckoned her closed, as if to tell her a secret. She leaned in, Peter watching you both curiously.

“For the record, if it wasn’t for me, you would have won,” you whispered. “He had no idea.”

She smiled up at Peter and said, “I like her.”

He was looking at you in a way that made you dizzy. “Me, too.”

“And she’s really pretty.”

You don’t know who flushed brighter: you or Peter.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x reader #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland imagine #peter parker x fem!reader #morgan stark #iron man #tony stark #avengers #avengers fanfiction

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readysetstarker · 4 years

Text

so, i’m guessing i’m in for an “ugh, finally” from a follower or two. i’ve been busy, gone through some very personal stuff over the last couple of months that made writing a near-impossible task for me. thankfully, i’ve mostly made it through. so sorry for such a long wait, my dears. i hope y’all enjoy.

also, much love to @quellthefire for, well, pretty much everything over the past few weeks. she knows everything she’s done for me. it’s why i specifically waited for her to return from work to post this, lol.

i’m sure some people have changed usernames or had blogs deactivated, and if you have, please PM instead of replying so i can fix your url on the tag list! i know it’s taken me way too long to get this part out, and a lot has happened since last september. sorry to make y’all wait.

Tag list: @loki-iwanttobeking, @strawberryparkers, @hoe4parker, @deliciousflapbanditfarm, @idontfeelsogoodmrspock, @srrnnrrs, @carttorchdeatth, @starkerhowlter, @starkeristhenameshippingismygame, @awesomeimportantfan, @itsjustmeowrooh, @starkravingspiders, @subverbaldreams, @this-starker-hoe, @moderndayqueenofscots, @prettyboy-parker, @sadbumblingmess, @winter-starker, @afreckledfairy, @lunakir, @parleroumourirr, @mintystarker, @starkerfics, @starkerprince, @mystarker, @aoifelaufeyson, @consciencecoward, @shinycreatoroafbonk, @themanandthespider, @jokesonme9000, @silkystark, @superpaperclip, @betteraskremus, @justallydavis, @marvel-shxt, @loki-helmet, @urfavisastarker, @haysend, @outlawbiscuits, @xmissemilyx-blog-blog, @silverloveless, @hereforagoodtimenotalong, @zoerayne2426, @kkomusume, @ardett, @seriouslystarker, @starkerprince, @shipperofalltheships, @morgoona-stark, @momobaby227, @idfuckanymarvelperson, @lltrashll, @richieleeparker, @haylove5, @katieb968, @xlace-babyx, @multi-fandom-fucker, @narutoyaoifan, @thatmarvelstan, @shinytoy, @allie-lyre, @country-cowgirl-101, @heyimstarker, @kiaorastarker, @nymeriasutcliff, @hoeforthegays, @ironspiidey, @annoyingcatto, @another-starker-hoe, @isomnelyswear, @starker-3000, @donttellanyoneitsmebabe, @peachbabytarte, @paintingbellarke, @pixiedragon99, @starterrrrrrrr, @pankade, @procrastinating-porcupine, @book-reviews-by-titch, @scared2death2live, @leatheronplaid, @untold-royalty, @kittycake574, @rk800puppy, @nerdylocksandthethreebears, @ikneelbeforemygod, @bipolarlatinx, @amazingness666, @fandombitchs-blog, @love-is-not-an-option, @starkerflowers, @theatrekidwithissues, @babygirl-barnes, @rebel13lion39, @cherrygoldlove, @casnovak88, @princess-parker, @blue-birb-blog

Warnings: peter is 19. anxiety attacks, mentions of a student/teacher relationship. nothing nsfw here. saving that for later ;)

—

Peter read the email over and over again, heart pounding like an uncontrollable jackhammer, and willed it to be fake. Some part of him hoped that maybe Flash had gotten ahold of Professor Stark’s email, gone through his computer, and sent it to throw Peter off. The things Flash had done and said to him back in high school, Peter wouldn’t count Flash out of doing something so… cruel.

Regret to inform you that your services as a teacher’s assistant will no longer be needed, the words said, each letter like a knife in Peter’s chest. Thank you for your interest in the position, but a more qualified candidate has been chosen to replace you. I’m sorry for any inconvenience this change causes...

He couldn’t bring himself to read the rest. His blood went cold, even as his heart pounded so hard he briefly thought it would jump out of his ribcage. This couldn’t be happening. He could just close his eyes and count to three, and everything would be fixed, right? Right?

Peter hastily clicked out of the window and began pacing his room. He chewed on a nail until it broke. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? He had already told May he had an announcement to make at dinner; she was expecting something good, if the way she was humming and singing to herself in the kitchen was anything to go by.

The last thing he needed to brag about was losing the position.

His fingers were moving across his keyboard before he could properly think. Pulling up the email again, sending Professor Stark a reply filled with apologies for anything and everything he had done wrong, and refreshing the page four times within the span of two minutes. Hopefully, Professor Stark wasn’t one of those teachers who didn’t respond to their emails.

Peter paced his room and refreshed the page until May’s voice finally floated in through his doorway, “Dinner’s ready, Pete! I don’t think I burned it this time.”

Peter’s heart jumped into his throat. He’d have to tell her.

The smell of definitely-burnt meatloaf clung to Peter’s nostrils when he entered the kitchen, a hazy, smokey fog hanging over the apartment. May stood at one of the windows in the living room and used a copy of The Daily Bugle to waft it out into the night. She brushed her dark hair out of her face with her free hand and offered him a weak, guilty smile.

“Okay, I lied. It’s a little charred. But I won’t be offended if you want to scrape off the black bits.”

Peter offered her a weak chuckle and went to set the table. He nervously ran his thumb over a chip in one of the plates while May abandoned her task of fanning out the smoke, but she left the window open. A gentle breeze and the smell of Queens at night joined them at the dinner table.

The meatloaf was dry and tough, but the vegetables she had cooked to go along with it were nearly perfect. She did tease him about how much salt he put over them before she took a sip of her water and cleared her throat. “So,” she started, and Peter didn’t feel very hungry anymore. “What was your big announcement? I’ve been dying all day, since you texted me at lunch.”

At lunch, I still had a job, he thought bitterly, buying some time for himself by chewing thoughtfully on a stalk of broccoli.

“Oh, yeah.” Peter swallowed and, wow, his tongue was ridiculously dry. Had he put too much salt on his food this time? No, he hadn’t, but he liked to think that it wasn’t his fear and anxiety making his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. “It’s, um, it’s not—”

“Is everything okay?” May asked, and the concern in her voice made his chest ache. “I know finals are coming up. Are you doing okay in your classes? Do you need help? You know, we have that retired chemist upstairs; I’m sure she wouldn’t mind tutoring you if I baked her a pan of my walnut brownies. She was asking for some the other day.”

“No! No, I’m doing fine in my classes. My astrology teacher actually made me exempt from taking the exam because I have the highest grade in the class.” Peter’s teeth dug into his cheek. “May, it’s about the teaching assistant job.”

“The what?” May perked up, eyebrows rising to her hairline. “What job? When did you apply?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” May shook her head, food forgotten, completely entranced by Peter’s next words. “Oh, um, the teacher of one of the dual enrollment classes I took in high school was hiring a couple of assistants for next year. I applied for it.”

Her face lit up; Peter could see the excitement in her eyes. His stomach dropped even further as she leaned in with a grin.

“Did you get it? You got it, didn’t you? Wait, when did you even apply? Why didn't you tell me you were applying?” she asked. Each question came so quickly Peter didn’t have time to answer. She was practically vibrating in her seat.

Fuck.

What was he supposed to say to that?

“I, um, I did my first training for it today,” he offered.

It wasn’t a complete lie, not a lie at all, but it still didn’t feel right watching May cheer and jump from the table so forcefully that she knocked her chair over. She didn’t seem bothered about disturbing the neighbors with the noise. May rushed around the table and threw her arms around his shoulders. Her kiss to his cheek was met with no protest.

“Oh my god, I’m so proud of you! Did you enjoy it? Does it pay?” she asked, and quickly followed it up with: “Oh, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you enjoy it. And that it doesn’t get in the way of your school work.”

Peter just nodded as she kissed his cheek again and ruffled his hair. “We have to celebrate! Oh, I have moose tracks ice cream in the fridge! Bought it on a whim. What excellent timing, though!”

May didn’t seem to notice the strain in his smile as she placed a noisy kiss to his forehead and abandoned her half-eaten loaf for fetching the ice cream from the fridge. Peter let the smile drop from his face the moment she was back in the kitchen, twisting his fork on his plate, a piece of tough and overcooked meat speared on the end of it. His appetite, already struggling, made itself non-existent now.

He had to do something to save himself the embarrassment of owning up to May. He couldn’t disappoint her, not with how excited she was, and how she politely (and, almost embarrassed) asked him to assist with rent.

The cherry on top of his horrendous night was calling Tony, hoping maybe he could distract himself or ask for a fitting punishment, one of the ones Tony dolled out when Peter really wanted him to be mean. His first call was cut short, barely making it to the third ring before an automated voice told him his call couldn’t be completed.

He tried again, hands shaking, heart jumping into his throat, hoping the operator on the other end wouldn’t judge or laugh at his desperation. She was monotonous as ever, but that didn’t stop his mind from supplying every little possible laugh and mocking word she would have said once he was no longer within earshot.

Waiting for Tony to pick up his second call was even more nerve-racking than the first time, and the rejection hurt that much more. He didn’t bother listening to the message again, shutting his phone off and tossing it to the end of the bed.

Peter’s eyes stung and the back of his throat ached.

He pretended to be content when he forced himself under the covers, hiding his face as he went to sleep with damp cheeks.

—

Peter had spent his entire morning building up the courage to confront Professor Stark. He had barely managed to focus enough on his psychology professor’s lecture to take decent notes, couldn’t eat due to the anxious churn in his stomach making him sick, and had to calm himself down from the edge of not one, but two meltdowns in one of the bathrooms in the social sciences building.

He needed to do this. Not just for him, but for May, for both of them to be able to stay afloat.

The landlord just raised their rent. He couldn’t afford to be passed over for the position.

So he struggled with his focus on classes, managed to avoid setting another fire in a chemistry lab for the second time that semester, and somehow didn’t drive himself completely insane. His leg bounced like he had four springs embedded into his heel during the last twenty minutes of his biochem class before they were dismissed, and he was the first student out the door.

He had practiced what he was going to say, his arguments on why Professor Stark needed to keep him, planned to cover any lingering doubts in his abilities. Sure, he only took the 101 lecture, but he was a quick learner. He could still assist with other lectures, if given the chance to study them beforehand.

And catching the older man off guard in his office played well in his favor, until Professor Stark gestured to one of the chairs Peter stood between and told him plainly, “Sit down.”

His argument, his perfect defense of himself, was shattered. Peter blinked, mind still trying to catch up with the sudden halt of his thought process. “What?”

With a nod to a specific chair, Professor Stark continued, “Sit. You want me to tell you why I cut you loose, right?”

Peter practically threw himself into the chair, flubbing over his, Yes, Mr. Stark. This is what he needed, to know where he went wrong, know what he needed to improve on. If it meant going home with six of Stark’s textbooks or a bruised ego because of the man’s infamous harshness, Peter was fine with that. He could take a shot to his ego.

He expected a little criticism.

What he didn’t expect was Professor Stark to clear his throat, lean over his desk, and fix him with a smirk before saying, “Okay, kitten. I can do that.”

Peter’s brain grinded to a violent halt. The words registered. His brain still refused to process them.

His first thought, once he could actually think, was That’s inappropriate.

Peter’s face pinched together with a mix of confusion and distaste. He’d heard horror stories of college professors who wanted sex in exchange for perfect grades, or internships, or anything else a student might need to progress academically. Mainly, he’d heard stories from female students, not male students.

Maybe Professor Stark was one of those teachers, and Peter had given him a bargaining chip by confessing just how serious his situation was. There was no way Peter was going to sleep his way into the position. He valued his pride more than that.

Peter had already thought of running to his advisor and making a report of Stark’s coming onto him, when the voice ran through his head again. The words played on repeat, a familiarity clinging to his tone—

Peter’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Tony’s smirk deepened, but there was no pleasure in it. Mirthful, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his trimmed goatee with one of his hands. The other drummed on the arm of his chair as he waited for Peter to say something.

Peter’s tongue stuck to the top of his mouth. Speaking was a struggle, but somehow he managed to work out a few words, “Oh, my god.”

Tony laughed. His Tony. He looked… less than happy to see him. “You gotta understand the kind of predicament I’m in, yeah? This whole thing we started isn’t, well, good for either of us now.”

Peter’s face burned; he was sure that Tony could see him turning red all the way down to his neck.

He wished he could focus. He wished he could nod along and agree with everything Tony was saying, but God, it was so difficult to do any of that when he was staring Tony right in the face. All of the faces, the bodies, everything he had fantasized about when they weren’t talked could never have lived up to the man sitting in front of him. Even the grays in his hair were different; they lined his temples, as expected, but there were strands strewn about in the hair he had so carefully styled up and back.

And his voice was just as distracting as it was through a phone speaker.

Peter needed water. Was the A/C in Tony’s office broken?

“Um. Yeah,” he said, still slowly processing Tony’s words. How had he managed to work for the man earlier without getting distracted? Sure, the man’s voice had sounded familiar when he first heard it, but hearing the confirmation that he was exactly Peter thought of when he was at home—

Home. Shit.

“But!” he started, nearly jumping from his seat. Tony started at his outburst, eyes wide and brows high on his forehead. “But, Dad- Um, Tony. Stark. Sir. Professor Stark, please, I need this position. I’ll do whatever you want me to if it means keeping it.”

“Dangerous words in our current situation, kiddo.”

Peter scoffed. “It’s not like anyone knows.”

Tony clicked his tongue and grimaced.

“Who?” Peter asked, the blush in his cheeks fading to white.

“Dr. Strange.”

“Shit.” Peter put his head in his hands, rubbing patterns into the back of his eyelids. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Not like he had Dr. Strange’s class the next day, or the following week until finals. How was he going to look the man in the eye now?

He shook his head; he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Tomorrow, at 10 AM.

“Is…” Peter paused. How would he word this? Slowly, he figured, as he started speaking again, “Is what we’re doing... Is that the reason you want to fire me?”

“Pretty much,” Tony answered with a nod. “There’s only so much tenure can save my ass from.”

Peter swallowed, pretended that the low dip in his stomach wasn’t there. Firing Peter to save himself. Suave, handsome, but an asshole. He sure knew how to pick them.

“So, let’s stop.” Tony’s brows rose again. “The whole, you know, phone thing. The relationship. Whatever you want to call it. I need the job more than I need, um, that.”

Silence. Tony stared at him, face now a blank slate, eyes boring into Peter. He wished he could tell what the older man was thinking, if for nothing but to ease his anxious, pounding heart. His face felt hotter still. He was pretty sure he was beginning to sweat. Tony should get his A/C checked.

God, Peter wished he would speak already. The silence and scrutiny were killing him.

Tony’s hand came up to his goatee again, rubbing at his stubble and covering his mouth in the meat of his palm.

“Sound logic,” he said. His hand dropped from his face with a shrug. There was another moment of silence as Tony chewed on his lip and seemed to ponder over Peter’s words. “You really want this job?”

Peter had to push his hair out of his eyes from nodding so vigorously. “Yes.”

Tony tapped his finger on his desk a few times. Peter half-considered leaping over it and demanding an answer.

“...Fine. It’s yours. On one condition.” Tony held a finger out to him. “You do not use this situation against me, in any capacity. I mean it, no extortion. I’ll fire you immediately.”

“Got it.” Peter nodded. He certainly wasn’t planning on it; it was the last thing he would ever tell anyone outside of their situation. He was dreading Strange’s next lecture. That was already exceeding the amount of people he wanted to know about them.

“Good. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Parker.”

Peter failed at hiding his grin, and he wanted nothing more than to reach across Tony’s— Professor Stark’s desk and throw his arms around his neck. The word Daddy almost slipped from his mouth again when saying his thanks. He caught himself, rushing out of the teacher’s office for his next class. He was already late, but he didn’t care.

He still had the job. At this moment, that was all that mattered to him.

—

Back in his office, Tony ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

God, he was so fucked.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #my work #phone sex au #god finally #it feels like it's been ages #the chapter count has gone up now ;)

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 4 years

Note

Is it okay if you write a fanfic about Peter living with Tony and with a high fever. This leads him to be delirious and attacks Tony because he thinks he a villain that is trying to kill him. I'm sorry if it's too much to ask, it's just hard to find a good fanfic with a similar plot to that.

This took me a few days, but I’ve got you!

Fever Terror -happyaspie (also on AO3)

Warnings: None Rated: T Wordcount: 4290

Tags: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Sickfic, Fever Dreams, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parkers Parental Figure ... ....

The morning light was just starting to peek through Peter's cracked curtains when the alarm on his phone rang out pulling him from sleep. Without ever lifting his head that was still faceplanted into his pillow, he haphazardly felt around on his bedside table in an attempt to get ahold of the device so that he could quiet the annoyingly disruptive noise. After knocking several papers to the floor and tipping over a thankfully empty cup he managed to get a hold of the phone only to drop it instantly into the space between his bed and the nightstand. "Fantastic," he grumbled to himself while reaching his arm into the tight space to fish out the offending item and finally shut off the alarm.

Once the room had grown silent again, Peter's eyes began to drift closed again. The peace only lasted for a handful of minutes before May was knocking on his door.

"I'm up, Aunt May" he mumbled and then forced himself to sit up, scrubbing his hands up and down his face as he did so. Soon after, he realized that he was more than a little groggy from a lack of sleep, he was sore from his head to his toes and there was a dull ache settling behind his eyes. He vaguely wondered if he was coming down with something and wondered if he should stay home from school. A glance at the date on the cracked screen on his phone made his decision for him. It was Friday. Not just any Friday, it was an 'internship' Friday and that meant spending the weekend with Tony. On top of that, it was the day his class was meant to be taking a fitness test in gym. He couldn't miss class. His gym grade was iffy already. He'd gone a little overboard in his attempts to hide his enhancements. He was only a handful of points away from failing the class and really, who fails gym?

"You could have scheduled a retake on the fitness test, you know," Ned unhelpfully stated as they slowly exited the boy's locker room.

Peter sighed and nodded his head. "Yeah but I'd rather get it over with and if I'd stayed home then May wouldn't let me stay with Mr. Stark. Besides, I have a healing factor and super strength, I'm sure I'll be fine. I just need a nap or something," he said, thankful that the coach started issuing instructions before his friend could say anything else.

As it were, taking the fitness test while not feeling well was both a blessing and a curse. He ended up not having to do a whole lot of faking it when it came to downplaying his abilities. After easily finishing the mile run at a leisurely human pace, intentionally letting go of the rope before making it to the top and jumping just slightly higher than Ned, he found himself unexpectedly sweating and struggling to complete the required fifty sit-ups in the allotted time frame.

"What's the matter, Penis?" Flash snarked from beside him. "You can't finish fifty measly sit-ups? Even Ned managed to do more than that. Might need to change your name to Puny Parker."

"Knock it off, Flash. We all know you lied on your exam card. There's no way you did ninety-eight sit-ups in five minutes," Ned defended and Peter was grateful, he still needed to do at least seven more sit-ups and he wasn't sure he could do that, deal with Flash and breathe at the same time at the moment. As such, he continued to only focus on getting his abdominal muscles to cooperate with him, missing whatever Flash had sneered in return.

The remainder of the exam was blessedly easy. A few stretches and a BMI measurement were manageable. Even so, the moment they were released to change clothes again, Peter thought he might actually cry. He was just glad that gym was the last class of the day. Once he was rinsed off and in his regular clothes, he sat down on the bench, closed his eyes, and drained the water bottle he'd just refilled.

"Dude, you look like crap," Ned observed as he plopped himself down beside his friend on the bench.

"Thanks, man. You're the best," Peter grumbled in response. When he looked beside him and saw the worry on his friend's face, he sighed. "I'm fine. I just tired. I'll sleep in the car on the way to Mr. Stark's and feel better by the time I get there," he said with a wave of his hand. Ned gave a dubious look but dropped the subject and soon enough the bell was ringing, signaling the end of the day.

The nap in the car did nothing for Peter's aching body. It also did nothing for the pain behind his eyes or the mild nausea that had been building since the beginning of the car ride. That didn't stop him from putting on a happy face and bouncing into the lab, though. "Hey, Mr. Stark! What are we going to be doing this weekend? Do you think we'll have time to look at the web-settings in the suit? I think I might have an idea for a new combination that would-" he rattled off while dropping his backpack and crossing the distance between himself and his mentor.

"-Are you sick?" Tony interjected before Peter could finish his rambled request, "Because you look like crap."

Peter stopped dead in his tracks. He wasn't sure why he thought he would be able to hide anything from Tony. The man noticed every detail of every little thing but that didn't stop him from making excuses. "I had gym and we did this really stupid fitness test. Maybe I need a shower before we start," he stuttered, then turned on his heels and rushed out of the room before Tony could comment.

Looking into the bathroom mirror, Peter finally understood Ned, Tony, and surprisingly, Happy's concerned inquiries. His hair was still damp with sweat, his cheeks were both bright red and pale at the same time and his eyes looked glossy. He really did look like crap. He hoped the shower would help with that or at minimum, ease the soreness in his joints. However, neither of those things happened. He stepped out of the shower looking just as miserable as he had when he'd stepped in. Maybe even worse.

As Peter walked out of the bedroom he spotted Tony sitting on the couch and was slightly taken aback. He'd assumed the man would stay in the lab and wait for him. "Mr. Stark?" he asked as he rounded the corner.

"Hey, kiddo. You-" Tony began with the intention of asking the kid if he was sure he was feeling okay but he paused mid-sentence when the teenager flopped down beside him and leaned into his side already proclaiming that 'he didn't feel good.'

"Yeah. I thought not," Tony replied with a soft smile as he allowed the boy to burrow into him. "That's why I came back up here to check on you."

As much as Peter wanted to tell the man that checking on him hadn't been necessary, he didn't. Now that he was sitting beside him, he was actually really glad his mentor was there and he didn't have to trek all the way back down to the lab. He wasn't sure why he felt so terrible but for some reason, having Tony's arm wrapped protectively around his body made him feel a little batter. He sat there quietly, soaking up the comfort for several minutes before sitting up with a sigh. "Can I have some juice or something please?"

"You know you don't have to ask, Buddy. Just go get what you want," Tony returned with a laugh. He found it amusing that the kid had been coming over for months and still asked permission to get anything out of the kitchen. Every time.

When Peter returned moments later and curled right back up on the couch beside him, Tony sighed. Clearly he wasn't going to be getting any more work done in the lab. "I guess I'll start up some movies, we can work in the lab tomorrow if you're feeling up to it, alright?" he siad more than questioned and it was no shock to him when Peter nodded his head and requested Star Wars.

Two movies, another glass of juice, and a bowl of soup later, Peter was more than ready to go to bed. The problem was it was Friday and going to bed at ten on a Friday was practically unheard of. Usually, he took advantage of the weekends and stayed up entirely too late. Especially when he was with Tony. It was rare for them to go anywhere near a bed before one or two in the morning but when he could no longer keep his eyes open he finally gave. "Is it okay if I go to bed now?" he asked. "I'm sorry, I'm-"

"You're sick, kid. If you're tired you should sleep," Tony replied before Peter could finish his unnecessary apology. "Let's check your temperature again before you head off, though," he added before sticking the digital thermometer under the kid's tongue for what was probably the eightieth time in the last several hours. "That's not too bad," he said with a half-smile as he read the numbers to himself. "Here, take your fever reducers and I'll wake you up so we can check your temperature again before I go to sleep, deal?"

"Mhmm" Peter agreed even though he felt like the constant temperature checks were ridiculous. His fever hadn't changed since he'd taken the first dose of medication after his shower. He wasn't going to argue though. He simply took the pills, said good night, and laid down in his bed, where he fell into what to become a restless and uneasy sleep.

__________

Peter was sitting on the edge of a highrise casually eating a hotdog while looking over the familiar Burrough. It was cold outside and after some time he was starting to wonder why the heater in his suit wasn't working. He could feel the chill starting to crawl up his spine, making him shiver. He threw the mask back over his head so that he could contact Tony and let him know it needed to be repaired when out of nowhere, someone grabbed him by the legs and tied him up. He tried to shoot his webs at the unseen assailant but they weren't' working either. He began to flail leading him to unwittingly fall right off the edge of the building. With no way to catch himself, he landed on the cement, sending shockwaves of pain through his body.

He lay there for several seconds, spitting out the blood that was pooling in his mouth from where he'd bit his tongue, before realizing that there was a shadow looming over him. The person was back-lit and he couldn't see their features but he assumed it was the same person who had tried to capture him up on the roof, so he rapidly sat up and started to scramble backward as best he could but his legs were still bound. Once he'd hit a wall, he whimpered as the shadowed figure kneeled in front of him and reached towards his face.

He knew that without functioning web-shooters he was going to have to rely on his strength and immediately started swinging. Within seconds he was able to strike the person's face and for the first time ever, the sound of his balled-up fist making contact with the other person's skin made his stomach clench and vomited without warning.

As he continued to gag into his own lap he could hear voices but he was able to look up to see where they were or what they were doing. All he was able to determine was that one was male and one was female. When his stomach had finished contracting he sat there and squeezed his eyes shut waiting for someone to grab ahold of him as he tried to catch his breath. Just as he was sure that the anticipation was going to kill him, he heard the sound of Iron Man's thrusters approaching.

Mere seconds later he felt the cool metal of the armor grab his shoulder and opened his eyes. Relief washed over him and he was just about to fall into Tony's arms when the faceplate lifted. Though rather than seeing the welcome face of his mentor, he was met with the piercingly green eyes of the Vulture and he panicked. Somehow The Vulture had stolen Tony's suit and was going to use it against him. He began to kick his legs and throw punches but the grip on his shoulder didn't loosen. Instead, it held tighter than ever and he quickly realized that he was being lifted up and practically dragged to a new location.

He frantically looked around himself trying to figure out where they were going and how he was going to get away. Knowing that he couldn't let the Vulture take flight, he went limp, dropping his full weight to make himself harder to transport, all the while grasping at anything he could get his hands on in order to anchor himself. Expect everything he grabbed slipped through his fingers. He resorted to squeezing and kicking the armor instead. None of that worked and the next thing he knew he was being thrust under an outpouring of freezing cold water.

The icy water came as such a shock that he pulled a gasped breath in and was unable to release it for several seconds. He was drowning. He couldn't breathe, the Vulture was using Tony's suit to hold him under the relentless spray and no matter how much he fought and thrashed he couldn't get free. It took a while but the second he felt like he could take a breath, he started to scream. "Tony! Help me! Please! Mr. Stark!" he shouted over and over again until he no longer had the strength to get the words out and was forced to fall silent. At that point, he stopped struggling. He had nothing left to give.

As his body fell lax against the stolen Iron Man suit Peter closed his eyes and whimpered. Normally the armor made him feel safe and comforted but know who was inside left him feeling lost and afraid. He tried to pretend that it was Tony in the suit and mumbled his name. He was surprised when he heard the man's voice calling back to him saying 'You're safe, Pete. I've got you. Mr. Stark has you.'

__________

Tony had been in his bed casually propped up on the headboard, reading through a few proposals when FRIDAY alerted him that Peter was in distress. Without further clarification, he bolted out of his own room and down the hall towards the kids. He opened the boy's door just in time to see him tumble out of the bed and onto the floor. Noticing the sheet wound around Peter's legs and the blood trailing past his lips, he kneeled down to untangled him and inspect his mouth for injury but before he could get close enough to make contact the teenager's breath quickened and he backed himself up against the bedside table.

"It's just me, Buddy," Tony said before pulling the sheet away and reaching out to take hold of Peter's chin. Only before he could make contact the frightened teenager began to thrash and one of his haphazardly thrown punched ended up hitting him solidly in the eye, sending him toppling onto his back. "I should have expected that," he said to himself, knowing full well that he shouldn't have tried to touch the kid while he was panicking without some sort of acknowledgment. He took a second to reach up and touch where his eye was starting to throb and hissed through his teeth. While he knew the teenager had enhanced strength, he'd never been on the receiving end of it before. He wasn't convinced that his eye socket wasn't fractured. There wasn't much time to consider it before he heard kid wretching and he managed to look up just in time to see the boy vomiting down his shirt.

"Shit," Tony said to himself. He'd come into the room, he'd seen that the kid's eyes were open and had assumed that he'd fallen out of bed while having a nightmare and was still trying to recover. The fact that he'd gone to bed sick hadn't crossed his mind until that very second and at that point, it was all starting to click. "FRIDAY? What's his temperature?" he requested despite the fact that he would have preferred to use a thermometer even though he had an advanced AI that was capable of making a similar assessment. He liked to think that sometimes, the best tool for the job was the simplest.

It only took a few seconds for FRIDAY to read off a number that had Tony cringing with concern. It seemed that the kid's manageable fever had spiked as he slept. Knowing that the boy wasn't likely to be cooperative in the state that he was in and not particularly wanting to end up with a second black eye, he opted to call for a suit. With the servo assistance, he figured he could get them into the shower and cool him down enough to get him back to his senses.

With the armor in place, Tony reached down and grabbed Peter by his shoulder. He was taken slightly by surprise when the boy's breath slowed at the contact. Then thinking the worst of it was over he lifted the faceplate only to be met by the kid turning as white as a sheet screaming as though he'd seen a ghost. "Hey, hey, hey. Easy, kiddo. It's just me. I'm going to pick you up," he announced before hoisting the teenager up onto his feet.

As Tony began to walk Peter became more and more aggressive. He'd already stopped bearing any of his own weight and had knocked over several things, including a bookshelf in an attempt to get away from his grasp. The kid had already gone so far as to grab ahold of his armored arm and squeezed so tightly that the suit has warped under the pressure. He was sure it would bruise and was glad that hadn't been his bare arm.

"In we go, kiddo," Tony said before firmly grasping the kid around the waist and pinning him down under the spray of the shower that FRIDAY had started for him. At first, the water was pelting them in the face but after a few struggled adjustments, he was able to readjust their position so that it was landing on their legs and chests instead. At that point, Peter seemed to find his voice again and began to shout, 'Tony! Help me! Please! Mr. Stark!' repetitively at the top of his lungs while trying to free himself.

Tony offered constant reassurances. The kid's frantic pleas were causing his heart to ache. He didn't know what else he could do to help ease the terror that had taken over the boy's consciousness. That's how they spent the next ten minutes. Peter screaming for Tony and Tony trying to convince him that he was already there. Though the most heartbreaking part of the whole ordeal was when the boy had finally run out of steam and fell limp onto his chest, still whimpering his name. "You're safe, Pete. I've got you," he whispered into the kid's ear. "Mr. Stark has you."

__________

The moment Peter heard Tony's familiar voice saying 'Mr. Stark has you,' his eyes snapped open and all at once things started to clear up. Gone was the dark alley and the spout of ice water that had been pouring from a pipe. Instead, as he looked around, he realized he was in the bathroom that was attached to his bedroom in Tony's penthouse. He was suddenly unsure of what was real and what wasn't. When he looked down, he wasn't in his suit, he was in a pair of stained sweatpants. He tentatively looked behind him, bracing himself for the worst. He could feel someone holding him and was still unsure of who it was. His breath quickened for the only moment when he saw the Iron Man armor but relaxed instantly the second he laid eyes on his mentor's face.

"Hey there, Buddy. You with me now?" Tony asked, not loosening his grasp even after Peter had nodded back at him. "FRIDAY? Is his temperature back down out of the rafters?" he asked next and when the AI relayed that the kid's temperature was still elevated but no longer dangerously so, he released his hold.

"What happened?" Peter asked as he shifted his body so that he was laying chest to chest with Tony and curling up in an attempt to avoid the tepid water that was still falling against his back.

"Fever dream," Tony said wishing that he could retract the armor without having to force the kid to get off of him. "Well, fever terror in this case, I think."

"Am I going to die?" Peter asked with a shudder. Despite the lowered fever, he still hurt all over and was so exhausted that he could hardly breathe without effort.

"No, Buddy," Tony chuckled before reaching down to push the dripping curls off of the kid's forehead. "I think we should probably get out of this shower and get you into some dry clothes, though," he said and Peter nodded, though he made no effort to move. "You've gotta let me up, kiddo," he quietly spoke before helping the listless boy rise to his feet and step out onto the bathroom rug.

After being wrapped up in the giant towel, Peter got his first good look at Tony's swollen eye and bruised arm causing him to panic all over again. "Did I do that? Did I hurt you?" he asked, his eyes having gone wide and his lip quivering with feverish emotion.

"It was my own fault, Kid," Tony said with a half-hearted smile. "You were panicking and I should have known better than to try to touch you right then."

"I'm so sorry. I don't- I didn't know it was you. It was like I was somewhere else and the Vulture was in your suit instead of you and it felt so real," Peer said in an attempt to explain to the man why he'd lased out. "I thought he'd stole your suit and was trying to drown me."

Tony just nodded his head and wordlessly helped the boy into some pajamas and because Peter's room still reeked of sweat and vomit, he guided his past the mess and down the hallway. He could feel the boy stiffen under his hand as the entered the master bedroom but he assured him that a bed would be more comfortable than the couch. When the boy relaxed he helped him under the blankets and handed him a bottle of water and some more medication. Then after some minor debate, he decided to got find himself an ice pack and lay down on the opposite side of the bed. He couldn't stop himself from smiling when the kid instantly pressed up against him. "Comfy?"

"Mhmm. 'M tired and you're warm," Peter replied, snuggling in a bit closer. He was still chilled not only from the prolonged cool shower but the lingering low-grade fever as well.

Tony chuckled and wrapped his arm around the boy to offer a little bit more warmth and comfort. "Is that all I am to you? A warm body?" he quipped but when Peter struggled to answer he had mercy on him and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I was teasing, Pete. It's fine. Go to sleep."

Rather than going to sleep as asked, Peter lay still for several minutes. He couldn't get past the fact that he'd hurt his mentor. The man's assurances that he'd been out of his mind when he'd done it were of no help and the guilt was eating at him. "Hey, Mr. Stark?" he asked, knowing he would be unable to fitfully sleep until he managed to quell the nagging remorse.

"Hmm?", Tony asked, caught slightly off guard. He'd thought the kid was already asleep and had been on his way there himself.

Peter hesitated for a second and then sighed. "I'm still really sorry I hit you," he said, turning his head just slightly so that he could see Tony's face. Though, all that did was cause more guilt to wash over him when he saw the half-melted ice pack still resting on the side of the man's face.

"Yeah well, you can replay me by going to sleep," Tony replied with a smile, "-and not waking up until at least ten. Preferably fever-free."

"I'll do my best," Peter promised before closing his eyes again. He still felt awful about the entire incident but Tony was smiling at him and for the time being, that was enough. He decided he could make it up to him properly when he was feeling more like himself. Maybe by repairing the armor he was sure he's ruined. Maybe by swearing to stay home from school the next time he felt like crap. Maybe both. He wasn't sure yet. His thoughts had been cut off by a hand gently threading through his hair, soothing him into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

#asked and answered #prompt fill #i like prompts #Marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #peter parker #tony stark #iron man #spiderman #sickfic #sick Peter parker #peter parker whump #tony stark & peter parker #irondad and spiderson #irondad fandom

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dear-selena · 5 years

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Sketchbook (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader): Chapter 4

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (Female)

Summary: (Y/N) never understood science-based subjects, despite putting all her efforts into studying them. Kids at school bullied her, her father, Tony Stark, was disappointed in her, and the Avengers looked the other way. Peter Parker, her best friend, and secret crush for almost two years, was always there supporting her when she needed someone. However, since he became an Avenger and her dad’s ‘favorite kid’, (Y/N) doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be around.

You find yourself struggling to exist with everything working against you, and instead of asking others for help, you turn to your sketchbook.

Warnings: Slight angst, a very bad cliffhanger (I’m so sorry)

A/N: Hello! I’m not dead!

School’s literally been kicking my behind, so I apologize for such a long wait. I never forgot about this story, and I never forgot about you guys. Some of you have sent me messages asking about when the next chapter would come out, and I want to thank you guys for keeping me motivated to write.

I finally have a solid story planned out for Sketchbook, and I believe it will be an 8 chapter story. Once again, I ask that you stay patient with me as I continue to get all the chapters out. Feel free to send me any feedback as well, it helps me know what you guys are thinking.

Without further ado, the long awaited chapter 4!

Chapter 4: CADD

Words: 2764

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Sighing with satisfaction, you take a look at your most recent art piece.

A week has passed since your father took away your training privileges, and not only has he gotten stricter with you around the compound, but he was also talking to you less. He never spoke to you too much beforehand, but recently, he only seems to ask you questions about school.

You absolutely hate it.

At first, you would sneak into the training room late at night, and get some practice with your whip, loving the feeling of finding your perfect weapon. However, after a few nights of practice, you found your father waiting for you in the training room, sending you straight back to bed. After that, you didn’t chance it.

School life wasn’t that glamorous either. Flash remained relentless, talking to you almost everyday about your grades and questioning why you're still at Midtown. No matter how many hints you gave him, he wouldn’t stop his belittling. When Peter saw these interactions, he’d get him to leave you alone. But you hated how you had to rely on Peter to get bullies away from you. He already has enough to deal with, and you were tired of being a problem in his life.

While you spend more time isolated in your room attempting to study, life in the compound went on without you. The team didn’t really acknowledge you much unless you just got back from school or you were with Peter, and even then your father would ask his prodigy to leave you alone. Sometimes, when homework became too much (which was basically everyday), you’d sneak out of your room and watch what was happening around the compound, getting inspiration for your sketchbook. Everything was per usual, Bucky and Sam constantly duking it out, Natasha, Clint, Steve, and Thor all having their own matters to attend to, Vision and Wanda spending time together, and Bruce, Peter, and your father spending hours in the lab.

When you saw Peter in the lab, you felt a stabbing in your heart, both longing to be with him and longing to take his place. Seeing Peter so focused on building things normally gave you a sense of admiration, but for the past week, you felt nothing but envy and hurt. It especially stung when you saw your father interacting with your crush, patting him on the back and smiling at him, smiling the way he’s never smiled at you.

Life without you in it seemed rather perfect for everyone.

Trying to shake the negative thoughts out of your head, you turn back to your artwork. Your final class of the day was studio art. The art department at Midtown was rather desolate, but the few people who were taking the classes really dedicated themselves to their craft. The teacher who ran the department, Mr. Miller, was one of the more kinder ones at the school, and you could tell he didn’t care that you were a Stark, but instead cared about your work. MJ was also in this class with you, and you’d always bounce ideas back and forth. Needless to say, this class was heaven on earth.

Looking at your work, you actually feel proud of yourself for once. For the past month, you chose to focus on digital art, having already learned most of the adobe suite. In Photoshop, you created a digital painting of yourself. The image consists of you looking into a mirror in front of a counter covered in makeup, applying some red lipstick on your lips. However, the lipstick on your lips formed a perfect drool line that was dangling from your lips, looking like blood ready to splatter. The room in the image was dirty, and the clothes you wore were torn up.

A perfect representation for how you felt. Trying to be seen but never looking good enough.

“Wow, that’s insane!” You look up from your work to see Mr. Miller admiring what’s on your tablet. “May I take a closer look?”

Sending your favorite teacher a genuine smile, you scoot back from the table you were working at, and allowed Mr. Miller full access to your work. He spent the next two minutes complimenting your technique, use of certain Photoshop brushes, and story within the image. He also gave you some pointers on spots that needed a little touch up, and you wrote down his thoughts in your trusty sketchbook for reference.

“Hey, before I forget (Y/N), do you have a little time after school today?” Mr. Miller asks handing your pen back.

“Uh, I normally get picked up right away, but what’s up?”

“I’m meeting with Mr. Mortia, the school principal, to talk about some developments in this department, and I’d really love for you to be a part of the conversation. I think you’d find what we’re talking about quite interesting.”

Biting your tongue, you try to suppress the smile forming on your face. This being the first time any teacher of yours has asked to talk academics with you, and not for poor grades! Despite the excitement bubbling inside, you try to stay cautious and calm, unsure of what Mr. Miller ultimately wants to talk about.

“I’d love to be there. May I message my ride and tell him to pick me up later?”

Mr. Miller gives you permission to send a quick text to Happy, asking him to pick you up an hour after school ends instead. Happy responds immediately, no questions asked. For the rest of the class, you found yourself lost in thought over what Mr. Miller wanted to discuss with the principal, and why on earth he wanted you to be there.

Hopefully they don’t bring up any grades.

------------

Walking down to the principal’s office, Mr. Miller opens the door for you. Upon entering the office, a familiar sense of dread takes over your senses. Normally, you’d be sent to the principal’s when your father was asked to come in to talk about your grades. Mr. Mortia would always try to talk to you about “other schooling options”, but your father would always find a way to counter his arguments, sometimes asking you to leave the room to have private conversations. No matter what was said, you’d keep your enrollment status at Midtown.

This time however, things were different.

Glancing around, you notice Mr. Mortia talking to a woman you didn’t quite recognize. “Ah! George, I see you were able to bring Miss Stark with you.” Mr. Mortia said getting up from his desk and approaching the two of you. “It’s good to see you again.” He extends his hand to you.

Raising an eyebrow but trying to remain polite, you shake his hand. “You too sir. Is my father here as well?”

“Oh no, we didn’t ask you here to talk about your grades,” Mr. Mortia assures, giving you a sense of relief. He then motions to the woman behind him, the one he was talking to just a second ago. “Miss Stark, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Tyrance. She’s an architect, and she actually helped designed this building.”

Turning your attention to her, Mrs. Tyrance sends you a warm smile and extends her hand. “It’s a pleasure Miss Stark. You can call me Jasmine.”

You shake her hand. “Nice to meet you Jasmine. You can call me (Y/N).”

“Why don’t we all take a seat?” Mr. Mortia suggests, gesturing back to his desk. Like clockwork, everyone on the room grabs a chair, you conveniently sitting in between Mr. Miller and Jasmine. “So George, have you informed Miss Stark of what’s going on or shall I do the honors?”

Mr. Miller nods his head. “Go for it.”

Mr. Mortia turns his full attention to you. “Miss Stark, I don’t suppose you’ve taken any of the C.T.E. classes Midtown High offers, have you?”

You shake your head, feeling a little more embarrassed than before. “No sir, are you talking about the career specific classes?” Teachers have definitely talked about them in class before, trying to get certain students to sign up for classes that would appeal to them. No one’s ever recommended a class for you however. You could barely pass a regular science class. How could you pass a more advanced class?

Mr. Mortia nods. “Well, Mrs. Tyrance is here because we’ve been working on bringing some new courses into the program, and one of which would be for computer-aided design and drafting, or CADD for short.”

Raising your eyebrows in curiosity, you look towards Jasmine, who nods to confirm what your principal is saying. “(Y/N), have you done any CADD work in the past?” She asks.

You immediately shake your head. “No mam, I’ve never even heard of CADD.”

“Really?” Mr. Miller interjects, making everyone turn towards him. “I’m surprised, and not just because of your father’s industry,” Of course your father comes up, even when he’s not here. “You’re also a talented artist.”

Taken aback, you blink multiple times, wondering if you were in a dream. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m serious!” Mr. Miller says. “All the work you’ve produced in my class thus far has been some of the best I’ve ever seen. You have a very creative eye, and you definitely have the aptitude to take your skills beyond painting and sketching. When I found out about this new program, I instantly thought of you and how I feel this would be a great program for you to take and be an advocate for.”

Many thoughts start to run through your mind. On one hand, you were utterly confused. No adult in your life has ever complimented you like this on an academic level, and hearing praise like this from a teacher felt so foreign to your ears.

On the other hand though, you felt complete and utter excitement. Art was always an escape for you, a way to distract yourself from a life you felt was pointless. In your sketchbook, you felt like you could have any ideas you want with no judgement, rules, or privileges. You never really thought about how you could use your artistic skills for more than just fun. You didn’t even know that was an option.

“In the architect world, we draft blueprints for buildings on computers, and it’s great because we can get as detailed as we want, and find good structure with our design and files,” Jasmine explains. “Mr. Miller has shown me some of your work, and I have to agree with him about your talent. I want to teach a CADD class here at Midtown, and I think you’ll be very successful as my student.”

Could the smile forming on your face get any wider?

For the next hour, you spent time discussing the implications of this new program with your teachers and principal, and how it was supposed to utilize more creative and artistic skills at Midtown. It surprises you how much these three adults valued your opinion on how to bring more awareness to art and design into the school, but nevertheless, you brought up ideas that they eagerly accepted. If you’re being honest, you’d never felt this valued before, not even with your father, and this conversation brought a new sense of life into your soul.

------------

Running into the doors of the Avengers compound, you almost slam into the automatic doors. The excitement of finding a class that can help you develop skills that you’re actually good at had you bouncing in your seat throughout the ride home with Happy. Not wanting to lose the energy, you chose to wait until you saw your dad to talk about this new exciting opportunity with your father.

As you anxiously wait on the elevator ride to your father’s lab, you can’t help but wonder how he’ll take the news. Will be finally be proud of you once he’s seen the work you do outside of school and the opportunity you’ve been presented? Sure, you didn’t build a robot or cure cancer, but you found something you were passionate about that had a potential to become a great career. Hell, you could even work alongside him if you find success with CADD. You can practically hear your father saying the words you’ve always wanted to hear. I’m so proud of you.

That all changes when the elevator doors open.

Instead of seeing Bucky and Sam playing games, Wanda and Vision around the kitchen area, or even your father taking a business call out in broad daylight, you see the Avengers, in suit, gathering their things as they prepare for yet another mission. With all the hustle going on in the common room, no one seems to register you entering the room. You completely forgot that your father would be leading a mission this weekend. You knew it had something to do with a Hydra base, but due to all the studying your father makes you do and the lack of acknowledgement you get in general, you didn’t know many of the details.

“(Y/N)!” You turn to see Peter running up to you, Iron-Spider suit without the mask and a duffle bag over his right shoulder. He smiles at you as he opens his arms for a hug that you accept without a second thought.

“Hey Peter, have you seen my father anywhere?” You ask, pulling away from him and looking around the compound. With everyone running around, you couldn’t see if he was even here.

“Oh, he’s gathering stuff up in the lab before we leave,” he informs you. You grab Peter’s hand, butterflies erupting in your stomach, and start to drag him towards your father’s lab. You were practically running, and Peter was surprised that he had to keep up with you. “Well, it looks like someone’s excited.”

“Something happened at school, and it had to do with my art.” You practically brag.

Peter’s eyes widen in surprise and curiosity. Before he could respond however, the two of you make it to the doors of the lab, where you see your father gathering weapons and putting them in cases for the upcoming mission. You knock on the door and your father looks up to see you and Peter hand in hand. With his eyebrows raised, he walks over to the door and opens it. “(Y/N), Peter, I see you have something to tell me?” He gestures to the two of you.

At first you were confused, but Peter and you suddenly realize you had been holding hands the entire time. Blushing madly, you both let go immediately, practically jumping a foot away from one another. “Oh! Uh… nothing like that Mr. Stark!” Peter stutters our, embarrassment evident in his voice. You felt a pang in your chest, secretly wishing the scenario was real.

Your father simply stares the two of you down before brushing off what just happened. “Alright Peter, bring these to the team and start loading them in the jet. I want to talk to my daughter alone for a minute.” With that, your father hands Peter two black cases.

“Right away sir!” Peter chirps out. With that, he was off, leaving you alone with your father.

You shake your head, trying to snap yourself out of any bad thoughts and trying to remember the great news you had to share. “Dad! Something happened at school today and I’m actually-.”

“Oh yeah, speaking of that, I want to talk to you about school before I head out for the weekend,” your father interrupts. With that he’s walking back into the lab, putting various things away as he continues to talk. “(Y/N), you’ve been going to Midtown for almost 2 years now, and you have shown very little improvement academically.”

A sudden wave of sadness fills your mind as you were reminded of how poor your grades were. You hate being reminded of that. Especially by your own father. “I know dad. But there’s a class I’m in that I really enjoy that’s startin-.”

“Just because you enjoy a class doesn’t mean you’re doing well in it,” your father interrupts again, not realizing you were talking about your art class. “I feel like the longer you stay at Midtown, the worse your grades get. I keep vouching for you to the education board to keep you at school, but I’m just so tired of constantly doing that. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Your heart starts to beat faster. “What do you mean?”

“I’m taking you out of Midtown. For good.”

-------------

-Sketchbook Tag List-

@randomfanders-blog // @freestarlight // @depressing-as-shit // @sweetmilki // @supernerdycookietrashblr // @supermassiveblackhope // @starksthunder // @multi-fandom-headcanons // @adri1ii // @futureauthor03 // @maddie-laufeyson // @thejourneyneverendsx // @noakantor14 // @fangirlbookworm // @awesomedara // @motherhyuckerdude // @itswhiskeybitch // @kickstartmyheartmc // @deansbbysblog // @whatareyouhidingpeter // @aquaastrid

-Peter Parker Tag List-

@sweetcoffeeblandtea // @house-arya // @jovialpeanut // @bookstoreblossom // @jackiehollanderr

-Marvel Tag List-

@sammghgecko

-Permanent Tag List-

@mindset-jupiter // @romance-geek // @imcharishope // @fakindob // @cutiekoa // @wowursofunny // @cals-cigarette // @supernerdycookietrashblr // @delicately-important-trash // @unlikelygalaxygiver

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman homecoming #spiderman ffh #spiderman far from home #marvel #mcu #peter parker x y/n #dear-selena fanfiction

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thorne93 · 4 years

Text

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 71 - FINAL)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count:2358

Warnings: epilogue of sorts, happy endings for all parties, super-powered children, fluffy ending

Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Side Note: We really hope you enjoyed the ride. We know this fic was long, and at times you may have been chomping at the bit to get to the next big adventurous part, but we feel like each part shows more of each persons character. Thank you for sticking with it, and we hope its everything you wanted in a story and more.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life moved forward, rather than lateral.

Steve returned the stones on time to their original timelines. He apparently spent a life with Peggy in one of them, but returned still fresh and young as always. He’d done this all before your wedding in fact.

Tony, Shannon, and Bruce stayed in their cabin that they’d built during the snap. It was a beautiful piece of property, with everything they’d wanted in a home, and had no desire to leave. All three of them could work from home, build their family, and they did so.

Tony said he retired from the hero game. Of course, if The Avengers or anyone needed him, he’d be there in a heartbeat, but for the most part, he was going to let the next generation take them on.

Shannon for the most part was a stay at home mom but if she was needed during an emergency or crisis she was the first one to get called to help. She also balanced a way to be with her kids while they attended Charles Xavier school by becoming a trainer for those who had powers similar to her vast collection of powers.

Bruce still did his research, driving into the city when need be, but Tony’s technology made it virtually needless to go in. He’d found a way to be able to marry Shannon but was still waiting for the right moment to ask her. He’d already spoken with Tony and was given the okay for it.

All four of their children were doing exceptionally well. Peter was top of his class at his graduation, valedictorian. Morgan was on the honor roll and even had a few of her own inventions that were up for funding. She was just as smart as her parents already. Natalia and Mason-Alexander (the twins) were turning three and showing signs that just like their parents they too had powers of their own completely different from their mother and unique to them.

When you and Loki returned to New Asgard from your honeymoon, your whole lives lay ahead of you. You had your physics that you could return to, perhaps starting a lab here, or maybe going back to New York. Loki could have stayed working with Strange at the sanctum, each of them protecting the time stone and other priceless relics. But neither of you had really thought about your future or work or anything. You’d been so busy living in the moment, in the now, you haven't given your future any thought, really.

Thor came to give you your wedding present.

“Welcome back,” Thor said happily as he and Valkyrie approached you from atop one of the roads back into town. The sea was on your right, down a steep grade, the mist washing up around your face.

“Thank you, it’s good to be back,” you replied as you held Loki’s hand.

“I’m glad to hear you say that, because I wanted to go ahead and give you your wedding present.”

You and Loki exchanged a look of anticipation.

“What would you say to being Asgard’s new King and queen?” he asked with a plucked up smile.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“What? But--but, Valkyrie has been handling it. She’s been in charge, and you’re rightful heir. With Loki’s past and my--”

“Well, first of all,” Valkyrie started with a smile, “I’ve been in charge because I have to be, not because I want to be.”

“And it’s time for me to stop being who I think I’m supposed to be, and be who I’m meant to be,” Thor agreed. “I’ve already spoken with Valkyrie--”

“And we think it’s best if I step down, and restart the Valkyrie program. I could be the leader for your army.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you gasped. “I feel like we’re...stealing this from you. You deserve to be ruler,” you said with urgency.

“No, I think you two do,” she said with sincerity. “Loki risked his life for Asgard when Hela came. He saved its people, and you saved the universe, risking your life.”

“We will do this,” Loki suddenly said in a cool voice, his face looking defiant. “Only if,” he continued, before suddenly flashing a warm smile, “you agree to be our political advisor as well. We will need someone with experience to help us.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she said with a dazzling smile.

After that day, it felt clear and right that being home with your Asgardian people was the best choice. Guiding them felt right, helping them make a better community felt good. You and Loki took the rank extremely seriously. It wasn’t just a role of royalty being handed down, but a way to honor his loving mother and your parents, and a way to give back to the people. Everyone was happy when you and Loki were crowned, and supported Thor in his endeavors as well. Valkyrie did her best and helped all the time to discuss and guide the issues of the community.

While being King and Queen was a full time responsibility, you felt you still had other debts to pay.

The Avengers training picked back up, but it got a few more recruits. Loki, you, Peter, and a few others had signed up for proper training. Once a good foundation was set for how you and Loki were running things in New Asgard, you would return to New York to begin your formal training. The agreement was that if New Asgard was in dire need, you’d return to it, but everything ran pretty much hands off in the community now.

On your first day, Pietro, Wanda, Sam, Bucky, Loki, Peter, Shannon, Carol, Scott, Hope, and Rhodey were all there.

Steve stood before you all, giving a quick speech about why you were here, what it meant to be an Avenger, and that being one didn’t mean you always saved the day. In the training room hung two portraits of Natasha and Vision, honoring their sacrifice for the fight to win back the universe.

Tony stood in the background, behind Steve. You wondered why he was here, but of course, his wife and son were there so naturally he wanted to be there to share the first day.

“With that being said,” Steve informed, a look of mischief crossed his face, “I’d like to give the first task to Bucky.”

Bucky frowned but walked forward anyway. All of you were equally confused.

“I’d like you to hold this shield, let me know how it feels,” Steve told Bucky with a bit of a grin.

“Feels heavy, and like it belongs to you,” he responded with a bit of shyness.

“Well, it doesn’t, it belongs to you now,” he said. With that, he turned to everyone. “In fact, this whole program belongs to all of you now. I’m retiring, and I think I'm leaving it in perfectly capable hands. Sam and Bucky will take over as the leaders of the operation, with Shannon overseeing it all. Recruits, it’s your job to follow their every instruction, it may not only save your life one day, but the universe too.” He shot you a tiny smile and nod, to which you returned. “As you know, Tony is retired, Clint has retired, Thor is out exploring the universe, and now with me, it’ll all be on all of you. I wish each of you luck. And as I once said to a very dear friend, no matter what. I promise you, if you need us, if you need me, I'll be there. Avengers, it’s time to assemble.”

He smiled to everyone, nodded once, then turned around. Tony put his hand on Steve’s shoulder as they walked out of the compound.

“Let’s go get lunch,” he said.

“You’re buying,” Steve responded. “I’m retired, gotta watch my budget.”

“Moocher,” Tony replied.

Sam and Bucky stood in front of the group.

“You guys heard him, hop to!” Sam ordered. “Let’s hit the gym everyone!”

With that, the group of you all walked over to the gym, with you and Loki hand in hand.

-----------------------------

You and Loki were standing in the restored castle you’d found on the island, you on the balcony of the bedroom. Both of you staring out over the sparkling ocean. The two of you were on your scheduled vacation from Avengers training, and Sam and Bucky respected that you did have a small nation to lead.

Life continued on for all of you. When you weren’t training at the compound, you and Loki took trips to the sanctum to have tea with Stephen and Wong. Sometimes, for an extended weekend, you’d visit Clint and his family. Wanda visited you in New Asgard a few times, and the two of you would go out on the town, and sometimes Shannon would come, bringing Morgan with her - it’d turn into a girls day out.

Bucky, Sam, you, and Loki all got rather close as well. You all enjoyed practicing combat and Bucky seemed to really enjoy the knife fighting with Loki - those two gave each other a run for their money. A few times, all of the Avengers shared a movie night, a bowling night, a trivia night. Steve and Bucky beat everyone in history, for the most part.

If you weren’t training or helping out Tony and Bruce at Stark Industries with some of your physics knowledge, then you spent time with Shannon and her family. Tom and Diane adored being grandparents, and you and Loki spoiled the kids. It was absolute heaven. Life had finally become happy. It was far from normal, but it was filled with love and happiness, and that’s all you ever wanted.

“You look radiant, my queen,” he mused from behind you as he wrapped his hands around your waist.

“Thank you,” you said blissfully as you stared out. “Would you have done anything differently?” you asked.

Loki rounded around you and got in front of you, putting his hands on the small bump on your stomach. “Of course not, why would you ask that?”

You shrugged simply. “Sometimes I wonder if, well perhaps if you felt trapped or stuck with me. When I jumped after you all those years ago, we weren’t dating. We hadn’t even shared our first kiss yet. So I wonder if perhaps you chose me by default.”

He gave you a soft smile as he stared at you, his hands going to either side of your face. “Y/N, I had thousands of years before we met again to look for someone else. I had ample opportunity to leave you after our imprisonment. I’ve never wanted anyone but you, that has never changed, and it never will.”

You nodded, understanding him. As long as he knew he did have a choice in this, that was all you wanted.

“I’ve wondered the same thing, though. If your decision to jump was made in haste, and after all that time, you just felt as if I were your best option. As if perhaps, if you didn’t stay with me, jumping, losing your freedom, and everything else that went with it, would’ve been for nothing,” he admitted.

“You did?”

He nodded. “Yes. It ran through my mind a few times that maybe if I didn’t propose on the day I came back if you would’ve weighed your options with Remy some more. So one day, I asked Stephen what all those possibilities looked like. Out of those 14 million outcomes, how many of them you chose me in.”

“And?” you breathed, curious to find out, your heart beating rapidly.

“All of them,” he assured with a twinkle in his eye. “He told me that out of all of the futures, you loved me in every one of them, and chose me time and time again.”

You gave him a warm smile. “I’m not surprised,” you mused. “Maybe we should ask him about the future of this little Asgardian,” you said with a bit of a laugh.

“We don’t need him to tell us that future. I already know we will give them everything we always wanted,” he vowed. “I promise.” He got up and kissed you firmly. “Between the two of us, there’s nothing we can’t conquer. Besides, between us, The Starks, Thor, and the other Avengers, this baby will already have ten times the family we did growing up. This baby will be more loved and spoiled than any in existence.”

“Mm, I like the sound of that,” you hummed happily. “I love you,” you quietly said as you stared at him.

“And I love you, Y/N,” he promised with the warmest grin you’d ever seen.

“We’d better get down there,” he reminded. “Shannon and the rest of them just got here. They’ll be waiting on us.”

In just a few minutes, your world would change again, letting in your loved ones on your happy news.

Shannon, Bruce, and the rest of the Starks came to visit you all. You hadn’t told anyone you were pregnant yet, it was to be a surprise. You couldn’t wait for her reaction though, because Loki was right, you knew as a sister she’d go absolutely off the walls happy for you, but not to mention so would several other people that were now family to you.

What seemed like lifetimes ago, Tony, Bruce, were nearly strangers. You all were friends, but nothing compared to what you’d gone through now. Heck, all of the Avengers. People you regularly spoke to, worked with, and relaxed with were once people you hardly knew. Now you couldn’t imagine your life without them (sadly, some of them you didn’t have to imagine, thanks to the snap). They completed your world, they completed you.

This baby, and you and Loki for that matter, had a home, had people who cared for you and loved you deeply. In fact, you had multiple places to call home: the compound, the Stark Cabin, New Asgard.

And you owed it all to your best friend Shannon, and the love of your life Loki - they were your better halves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@bubblyanarocks3

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr

@kaelingoat-blog

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

@damalseer

@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@sorryimacrapwriter

@glitterquadricorn

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm

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@princess76179

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@sarahp879

@malfoysqueen14

@ellallheart

@breezy1415

@marvelmayo

@random-fluffy-pink-unicorn

@cocosierra94

@hardcollectionworldtrash

@capsmuscles

@marvelloushamilton

@paintballkid711

Loki:

@lostinspace33

@ultrarebelheart

@lenawiinchester

@esoltis280

@tngrayson

@wangdeasang

@harrymewmew

@jayfantasyatyourservice

UC:

@lokis-high-priestess

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crimefightingspiderguy · 4 years

Text

love bug

Part III to the series, i want you to want me.

Summary: An introduction to Peter and (Y/N)’s school life.

Warnings: I guess spoilers for Spider-Man: Homecoming? But if you haven’t seen that yet, get to it hop along.

Pairings: Peter Parker x best friend!reader

Word count: 1,735

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The next morning you met Peter at the bus stop in between both of your apartments, like you’ve done everyday since your guardians trusted you to go to school without them. You carried the Mantecados, which were still fresh smelling and making your mouth water. Peter carried the poster board, having taken it back to his place to study his part of the public speaking portion of the project.

“Hey there loser” You smiled as you approached Peter. He returned your smile quickly and looked back at his phone, texting away. “Hey, who you texting this early in the morning?”

“I’m trying to get ahold of Happy, Mr. Starks head of security. I wanna see if they have another assignment for me.”

“Already? I mean you did JUST get back from freaking Germany, fighting THE Captain America, might I remind you. I don’t think that the Avengers are working round the clock now that they’re broken up. Give it time Pete, he’ll get back to you.” You gave him a reassuring smile and side hug. You knew that Mr. Stark probably wouldn’t get in touch with Peter again for a minute, but Peter didn’t seem to want to accept that. He’d gotten a taste of that higher status as a superhero, and he probably wouldn’t let it go for a while. The two of you got on the bus when it arrived shortly after, and began rehearsing for your presentation.

When you were dropped off at the nearest station, the two of you cut across the football field. Once in front of the school, you were greeted by Flash yelling “Sup, Penis Parker!” You flipped Flash off, and he quickly shut up and kept driving. He knew not to call you names because the last time he tried, you punched him in the throat. You didn’t do serious damage to him, just a sore throat for a couple minutes, but it gave him the message not to mess with you. You offered to do the same when he picks on Peter next, but he said that probably wouldn’t help his case if someone else fought his battles for him. When you got into the school you were about to say bye to Peter, you wanted to drop the Mantecados off to your Spanish class before you ate them all in between classes, or they fell out of your locker and went to waste. However, your bye was cut off by him staring off in the distance. You turned around to see what caught his eye, and you saw her. Liz, the upperclassmen who’d caught Peter’s eye as soon as the two of you had joined the academic decathlon. You turn you head back to Peter, a smirk plastered as you playfully punch his arm,

“Earth to Peter.” He quickly shakes his head and chuckles to himself. “We’ll talk about this,” You motioned between Peter and where Liz previously was, “later, I’ve gotta go drop these off before I literally drop them.” You held out your hand to do your signature hand shake with Peter, and made your way to class.

The presentation went better than expected, and the Mantecados were an absolute hit. You were still running on the adrenaline of doing such a great job, that you were practically jumping up and down as you waited in line for lunch. You joined Peter who’d beaten you to the cafeteria, at your usual seats in the back of the room, just the two of you and a couple seats down MJ. He was staring off again, a love-struck look on his face, and before even following his eyes you knew it was Liz.

“Did Liz get a new top?” He mumbled, almost to himself.

“I don’t know Peter, why don’t you go ask her?” You smile smugly. “You should probably stop staring before it gets creepy though.” You whisper the advice, but MJ still heard.

“Too late. You’re a loser.”

Peter looked at her confused and offended,

“Then why do you sit with us?” he asked her.

“Because I don’t have any friends.” MJ retorted, and looked back at her book.

“Anyway… Peter, just go up and talk to her. She’s actually really sweet and I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to ask her to at least help you study for the academic decathlon. Then boom, before you know it, you’re in!” You grinned and gave him two thumbs up, trying to encourage him. He just chuckled and shook his head, continuing to eat his tater tots.

After school ended, you and Peter went to practice for the academic decathlon. You, MJ, a kid in your grade - Ned, and Flash were being asked questions by Liz. Peter sat out and began talking with Mr. Harrington. You weren’t sure what they were talking about, but suddenly Flash yelled across the room,

“You’ve never even been in the same room as Tony Stark.” Your eyes widened, and you began to shake your leg, something that happened every time you got nervous.

“What’s happening?” One of the girls studying asked

“Peter’s not going to Washington” Another one responded, who had been clearly eavesdropping.

“Really? Right before nationals?” Liz asked him. You gave Peter a wide-eyed look, this had been the first you’ve heard of him considering dropping out of the competition.

“He’s already quit marching band and robotics lab.” MJ chimed in, everyone on the team turned their heads towards her and gave her a questioning look, which she quickly responded with “I’m not obsessed with him, just observant.”

“Flash, you’re in for Peter.” Liz said, quickly bringing the attention back to practice.

“Oh, I don’t know, I’ve got a hot date with Black Widow, I might have to check my calendar.” Flash said, poking fun at Peter. You rolled your eyes at him, and tried to focus back on your practice.

As soon as practice was over, you and Peter made your way to the bus stop.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dropping out of the finals?” You asked Peter as you waited for the next bus.

“I wasn’t really planning on it, until we got to practice and I realized that it wouldn’t be smart of me to go. What if Mr. Stark needs me, and I’m not there?”

“Peter, we’ve been over this. I don’t think Mr. Stark will have any assignments for you this soon. Even the Avengers have to take a break at some point.”

“But what if Captain America comes back? What if he finally comes out of hiding and we have to chase him again? None of us know when that might be, so I have to be ready.”

“But that’s the point Peter! No one knows, so you can’t put your life on pause, thinking that it might be within the next hour.” You were trying to reason with him, because you were worried about him. You didn’t want him to throw his current life away for some dream that might have only been a one time thing.

“I can’t think like that (Y/N), I have to be ready for anything. Mr. Stark might need me, so I’m staying here.” Peter’s tone ended the conversation, and he quickly turned away from you to get on the bus.

You were heading to Mr. Delmore’s convince store/deli to get after school sandwiches which had been a tradition, every Monday, since high school started. When you got there, the two of you got the usuals, and headed over to the abandoned building next door, climbing up the fire escape to sit on the roof and enjoy your subs.

“So, enough decathlon talk, I know that I can’t force you to go, so I won’t try. What’s your worst fear?” This was another tradition. Once sat down and eating, one of you would come up with a random question that you had yet to know about the other. It kept the conversations interesting, and helped to strengthen your friendship, but overall, it was just fun compared to the boring “so this weather we’re having…” conversations. It was a sort of “penny for your thoughts” type of game.

“Wow, (Y/N), I think that’s the deepest question yet. What did I ask last week? “What do you think life would be like with one giant toe rather than 5 small ones?”. You really know how to outshine me.” He chuckled, and thought about that question.

“Mines the unknown.” You answered as he thought about his.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m a ball of anxiety and a hypochondriac, what do you think it means?” You laughed a little. “I fear not knowing what might happen next. I fear not knowing how the planet will die. I fear not knowing if I’ll ever be happy in life. I fear not knowing if I’ll ever be successful in my future endeavors. I fear not knowing if I’ll ever find love.”

Peter looked at you seriously, and grabbed your hand that wasn’t holding your sandwich. You both took bites and sat with your words for a moment.

“I think that’s something everyone fears. Not knowing, but that’s what makes life so great, is everything is unexpected.” Peter said. You nodded and smiled at him, squeezing his hand. You let it go and cleared you throat, taking another bite of your sandwich and then prompting him to answer the question.

“Losing you.” He mumbled. You almost choked on your sub, not sure if it was because you were shocked by his answer or you found it funny. Looking over at his face as he slowly ate his sandwich, you knew he was being fully serious.

“Why? If you lost me, you’d probably be sad for a month or two, then eventually move on. Why not your aunt May?”

“You seriously think I could lose you and just move on? Yeah I’d be devastated if I lost aunt May, of course I would. But I could honor her like I do with uncle Ben. I could keep her memory alive, and live how she would want me to. But I couldn’t live without you. Everything I do would remind me of you, and it would feel like a ghost was haunting me everywhere I went. I would go mad before I got over your death.”

You smiled down at the remainder of your sub.

Current Taglist: @popluckbih @yourbiggestspiderfan

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged throughout the series. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome :)

Find more of my work here.

My work is exclusively posted on Tumblr by me, on this blog. If you see my work posted elsewhere, please reach out to me.

Thank you, xx.

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fanficsaremylifeline · 4 years

Text

I’ve got homework...

For the fantastic @fictional-worlds-are-exquisite, who prompted this story :)

It’s on AO3 too:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22450930

***

“Hi Mr Stark!” With an excited grin, Peter skipped into the workshop, and, after throwing his backpack into the corner, he turned to Tony. “How are you doing?”

“I'm good”, he smiled. “And you?”

“Me too, thanks.” Peter sat on the table, letting his feet dangle. “You remember that robot we made last week? You know, the one for physics class?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“No big deal, but I got an A for it”, the kid smiled, and blushed pinkish in pride.

“Wow”, Tony nodded, “that's something...”

“No need to be impressed or anything”, Peter grumbled as he crossed his arms and the blush was substituted with creased eyebrows.

Tony walked up to the kid, trying to bite down his grin. “I mean, it's not like you did it all by yourself...”

“Well, Mr Stark, I'm very grateful for your materials and your time and your assistance, but...”

“Assistance?”, Tony snorted. “I ain't nobody's assistant.”

Peter just looked at him and gave an exaggerated and exasperated sigh. “Yes, sir.”

They held the stare for a moment or two, before Tony burst out with laughter and put his arm around Peter's shoulders. “Good job, I'm really proud of you. All the planning and shit, that was you. And, even though it might pain me to admit it, but it's not like you really needed my help for it, did ya?”

With a meek grin Peter looked up and just shrugged.

“Yeah, thought so”, Tony chuckled and gave his shoulders another squeeze. “Change of topic, though. And please, just stay calm, don't freak or anything, alright?”

“Ok...” The curiosity was written clearly all over Peter's face, and, sitting so close to the boy, Tony could almost feel him vibrating with anticipation. Oh boy, maybe he should put some safety distance between the two of them...

“So, there is a mission...”

“OMIGOD!”, he squealed, definitely a few octaves too high for Tony's liking, and all but jumped up, until he stilled all of a sudden, when remembering Tony's earlier plea. “I'm sorry, Mr Stark”, he remarked after a moment of silence, clearly giving it his all to sound nonchalant. “Please continue.”

“Of course.” In all fondness, Tony couldn't help but shake his head at the excitement; it distinctly reminded him of a little puppy, or a child on Christmas morning. “As I was saying, there is a mission...” Tony decided to ignore the little jump Peter did and the high pitched squeal. “Low-level stuff, a right-wing terrorist group, SHIELD has been monitoring. Swoop in, secure the guys, and done.”

“That sounds very good”, Peter nodded; his forced casual diction was absolutely ridiculous, as was him grabbing so hard onto the table, he actually warped the metal.

“Figured, that's why I thought that you would like to... Oh, shit.”

“What is it?”

Now it was Tony, who had to practice all his restraint and not burst into laughter. “I totally forgot!” Shaking his head, he turned to Peter, who looked all worried about what might have happened. “Sorry, of course you can't come along!”

“What?” And cue the face drop. Wow, this was what a kicked puppy looked like.

“Don't you have homework?” At this remark, Tony couldn't help the smug grin breaking through.

“Wha... You're the worst.” With realization came the creased eyebrows again and a look that could probably kill.

“Peter, your education is important, and I understand if you need to take a step back and...”

“Shut up!”, Peter moaned and boxed Tony's arm. “Nazis are worse than geometry.”

“I know that”, Tony nodded, “but will your teachers understand?” As hard as he tried, Tony couldn't keep up the concerned facade and let the grin shine right through.

It did drop at Peter's counter-measurement, though.

“I'm gonna tell May that you haven't been nice to me.”

“I can't believe you”, Tony grumbled. Playing the woman-Tony-is-afraid-of-card? That was low.

“Thought so”, Peter grinned; that damn shit-eating grin that warmed Tony's heart and made him want to tousle those unruly curls. “So, how about some light engineering, before you brief me on tomorrow's mission?”

***

“Hi Pepper!” Before Tony had even realized her walking inside, Peter had already wrapped himself around her in greeting.

“Peter, really good to see you.”

“You too”, he beamed up at her.

“Should I leave you two be?”, Tony deadpanned, seeing that nobody seemed to realize or care that he was there, too.

Peter turned immediately bright-red, let go off Pepper and jumped a bit away.

“Drama Queen”, Pepper rolled her eyes, before smiling at Tony, that perfect, breath-taking smile, that still robbed him of his breath.

“Still said yes”, he beamed back. When that epitome of amazingness stood in front of him, Tony couldn't help it; he somehow was a lovestruck teenager again, who couldn't stop but smile at the wonder that was Pepper.

“Lucky you. Anyways, I was looking for the two of you.”

“What's up, then?”

“Crime Stats. Since you're legally an independent contractor to the Avengers and have therefore no real connection to SHIELD and we're your contact people it's on us to get that information to them.”

“Why?”, Peter asked, “are they trying to keep tabs on me?”

“In a way”, she admitted. “Though the are really mostly interested in the numbers and statistics; for transparency reasons. Those numbers will be published, and passed onto authorities, as was agreed in the Accords.”

“Huh. Alright”, he nodded, “but you can just get all the stats from KAREN.”

“Yeah, I just need a hand to sort through the masses of information, so I can turn her log into an official document, which is why I need you too.” Now she turned to Tony. “He's a minor and as his employer, you're the one to sign.”

“Why not May?”

“Because then we'll reveal a bit too much identity”, Peter explained in her place and locked eyes with Tony. He could see it clearly in Peter's face: he was not in the mood for that right now. And neither was Tony; they were about to head to the lab and work on a spider-suit update. He was just about to shrug at the kid, á la 'guess we'll have to go through this', when something in his look changed to downright mischievous. Even before the boy started to speak, Tony knew he was not gonna like what he was about to say.

“That sounds like just Tony would be enough”, he remarked and turned back to Pepper; the grin gone, instead he shot her his best puppy eyes. “It's just... You know, I have a lot of homework...”

That little shit. Tony knew for a fact that this was not true.

“Oh, of course”, Pepper nodded. “School stuff is more important.”

“You need help with that?”, Tony asked, shooting the kid a look, communicating all the 'you better get me out of this'.

“Nah, I'm good”, Peter grinned. “It's history homework, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, you don't want Tony's help with that.”

“Hey!” He turned to his still perfect fiancée, and even managed a reasonably angered glare. “I am a genius for a reason!”

“Sure you are, honey”, she smiled and patted his shoulder. “Come on, let's get to the crime stats and leave Peter to his homework.”

“Fine...” He followed Pepper out of the room but, just before the door closed, he turned one more time towards the very smug teen, who just waved after Tony.

Oh, he was so gonna get him back...

***

“Hi Mr Stark!”, Peter chirped as he skipped into the kitchen.

“Heya kiddo”, he grinned back and downed the rest of his coffee. “You ready?”

“I hope you are”, Happy answered instead of the boy. “I gotta take you to SHIELD; monthly meeting, remember?”

Shit, now he did. Ugh, Tony'd rather cuddle a cactus that sit in there, listen to Fury and Rogers go on about... Something, probably; Tony never paid attention. And, since that has never caused any issues whatsoever, he didn't really have to go there now, did he?

There was one way though, he might just get out of that.

“I honestly didn't remember, and I already promised Pete to help him with his homework.” He turned to the kid, who didn't quite get what Tony was playing at; understandably, since it had been their original plan to tinker around with Mark XVI. “Didn't you say it was for a grade?”

“Oh yeah”, Peter nodded, catching onto Tony's plan and unpacked the one sure-fire way to get Tony out of having to attend; the mightiest weapon the Avengers could offer: Peter's puppy eyes. “I really need his help to get this right.” For good measure he patted his bag.

“Fine”, Happy groaned, not really trying to fight the puppy eyes, “I'll get Rogers to excuse you.”

“Thank you so much”, Peter beamed, “you just saved my life.”

“Yeah, right”, he grumbled and, after nodding at Tony, he turned and walked out of the kitchen again.

“Thanks, Pete”, Tony smiled, “saved me a world of pain.”

“Not so sure about that...” The skew grin Peter shot him was... Tony wasn't sure.

“Out with it.”

“I do have homework, for a grade and I could do with some help. It's just in English...”

Oh fuck. The puppy eyes Peter had just shot in Happy's direction were now aimed at Tony. And English? Well, Tony knew how to speak it, but other than that... Besides, comparing poems and shit? Who the fuck had time for that?

“Fine. Let me see what you got.”

“Great”, he giggled. “So, it's basically choosing an important happenstance in my life and comparing it to a similar situation from a book. Issue is, most important things in my life are kinda arachnid-powered and I can't write about that, can I? I mean, Batman, right? Watching Uncle Ben being... you know, and then becoming a superhero... But secret identity.”

Peter didn't even give Tony the chance to interject, which he'd like to do, since the kid got more and more morbid.

“Then I thought Hamlet, because you know, my parents, but my Uncle isn't evil, so nope.”

Shit, that was depressing.

“Then I thought Frankenstein?”

“What, engineered superpowers and now everybody wants you dead?”

“Maybe?”

Tony just shook his head, and Peter jumped up with a groan.

“This sucks so much! You know, I could do Alice in Wonderland! But no, it's all top secret.”

“As I take it, you don't have to fit with an entire book.”

“Fine. Then I feel like Bilbo Baggins”, Peter continued. “Just want to be left alone, but no...”

“Come on, now, we're two certified geniuses, we can figure this out. What do you want to write about?” Maybe this way they would get somewhere.

“I mean, I don't want to write about my parents or Uncle Ben, because if I do, I'll be sent to see a shrink again.”

“Which isn't a bad thing...”

“Mr Stark, focus. If I write about getting together with MJ she'll dump me right away, and I don't want that. Then I thought about you know...” He turned away and started to blush. “About... meeting you.”

“Well, it is a world-changing happenstance”, Tony smirked.

“OMIGOD!”, he cried out, “I got it! My Fair Lady!” With an excited grin he beamed at Tony. “Because, well, you, scooping me up from the streets, teaching me the ropes, not the societal ones, but like engineering and shit. And superheroing, too, but again, nothing I can write about.”

“So, you're Eliza Doolittle?”

“Yeah!”

“And I'm Higgins?”

“I mean, sorta...”

“No”, Tony shook his head, “I'm not taking part in that.”

“Come on! It's perfect! And, like you said, I don't have to fit the entire book!”

Damnit, Peter might just have a point with that story. Him, tracking down the kid; Peter over and over showing up, literally nagging Tony into becoming an official Avenger. And he did learn and work hard to improve. “I guess it fits. So fine. As long as you make it clear that I am not such an asshole towards you as Higgins is towards Eliza.”

“I will speak of you only in the highest reverence”, he grinned and got to his bag, to get out his pen and paper, softly humming: “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain...”

Oh, what the hell did Tony get himself into right now? Well, at least it was better than sitting at SHIELD.

***

Tony was spread out on the couch, waiting for Peter to finally pick up.

“Hi, sorry”, he chirped eventually, just before Tony was about to hang up. “Was just changing, couldn't answer.”

“So I don't need to take it personally, good”, he chuckled. “You civilian or vigilante right now?”

“I'm just myself, Peter Parker.”

“Right then, Peter Parker. I had an idea for an upgrade for your other personality, wanna come over and check it out?”

“Uhm, no, sorry, I can't.” All of a sudden, the giggles turned into almost nervous stuttering. “I... I got homework, you know?”

“Oh.” Tony didn't buy that. Not at all. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Tony still didn't buy it. “You need help?”

“Nope.”

“Right then.”

“I can come tomorrow, though and we can work on that upgrade then, ok?”

“Sounds great.”

“Perfect. See you!”

“Call ended”, FRI announced.

Huh. Peter was keeping things from Tony now? Yes, 'having homework' was their excuse for every kind of meeting they wanted to avoid, but Peter had never used it on Tony. Should he worry?

Tony could just track Peter's phone and be at where or whatever the kid hid from him. And then Peter would never trust Tony ever again.

Probably it was just some weird nerd stuff with his nerd friends, nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. This weird feeling in his stomach? Absolutely nothing that deserved another look at or that needed to be divulged in.

Only question: was Tony worried that the kid was in danger, or was he pissed that the kid kept it from him? Neither of those options were fair to Peter, though; he was old enough to make his own life choices and had every right to keep some things private, after all. If only Tony wasn't so curious...

“Hi Mr Stark!”, the kid beamed as he waltzed into the lab the next day with the widest grin on his face.

“Hey Pete.” Tony looked up to see him dance around Dum-E, before hugging Butterfingers and all but jumped over the workstation, landing right in front of Tony. “Wow, you're chipper.”

“Why wouldn't I be? Isn't the world just wonderful?”

“You really had fantastic homework yesterday, didn't you?”, Tony smirked at the teen that immediately turned beet-red.

“Uhm, yeah...”

“Kid, you're allowed to say no to me, you know that, right?” He put his hands on Peter's shoulders who looked up with wide eyes. “If 'having homework' is your way of doing that, I'm cool with it. Just don't feel like you have to lie to me; I can accept a no.”

“You sure?”, he grinned, still blushing, but a lot more cheeky now.

“I am. You wanna get to work then?”

Instead of giving an answer, Peter blurted out: “I was on a date!” He was somewhat embarrassed, somewhat proud, but mostly so damn smitten...

“I assume with Michelle?”, he smiled. The kid barely shut up about the amazingly smart captain of the Academic Decathlon Team, who was so badass and really funny and oh so pretty...

“Yeah”, he cooed and, if it was possible his entire face turned into one giant heart-eye. “We went to the Natural History Museum, they have an exhibition about Murderous Animals, like the serial killers of nature. Like Meerkats for example. They kill each other ten times more than humans kill each other! And like chinchillas, they're on fifth place. That's so weird, because they seem so adorable!”

“And your paramour liked that?”

“She loved it! It was like the perfect surprise.” Now it was pure pride that Peter exuded. “And then we got takeaway and watched the sunset from a roof top and it was so romantic.”

“Sounds absolutely perfect.”

“It was. And I'm sorry I said the homework thing... I just...”

“It's alright. Like I said, you don't have to justify yourself to me. Bigger question, though: Are you too caught in thoughts about your girlfriend or are you able to concentrate on not blowing us up?”

***

Tony thought he knew what pain and torture felt like after Afghanistan. But watching Peter like this, sorrowful and almost heart-broken, managed to top it off once more.

Today's patrol went absolutely disastrous. Tony hadn't managed to get the details out of the kid yet, but what he did gather was that during a bank robbery one civilian, trying to take down a robber, got shot, and that only moments before Peter had the chance to get there.

And now the kid was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, curled in the corner. All Tony could do was stay close, and he was ready to get or do anything Peter might need from him.

“Hey Tony.” Steve walked up and sat next to Tony on the couch. “How's he doing?”

Tony just shot him a stare á la 'what do you think', but didn't get the chance to say just that.

“He can hear you, you know?”, Peter grumbled from his blanket pile.

“Sorry, kid.”

“Yeah, whatever...”

“What's up?”, Tony turned to the super soldier, who should actually know better than to crowd Peter when he was upset; it had unfortunately happened a few too many times.

“We need his statement.”

The wince coming from the blanket pile was quiet but Tony clearly heard it.

“Seriously Rogers, now?”

“I know, I know. But if we don't get it signed now, we'll be in a lot of trouble with Ross and the Accords.”

Shit. Peter stayed silent, but he balled himself up even more if it was possible. There was no way in hell, Tony was gonna let anybody force Peter to do any official shit.

“Well, first of all, since he's a minor, his signature is useless anyways. And besides... Peter has homework.”

“Homework?” Steve creased his eyebrows, until he got it. “Oh, right”, he nodded, “homework. Yes, that's important, I agree. And yes, since he's not a legally grown-up, my signature should more than suffice. ”

“Thanks.”

Steve nodded, got up and, just before he walked out of the room, the blanket pile moved a little. “Thank you, Mr America.”

“Anytime, Pete.”

***

“Peter, good you're here”, Happy smiled at the bushel of brown curls that peaked out from a bunch of wires.

“What's up?”, he called and only then resurfaced.

“Meeting Room C. In five minutes.”

“Aw, shit”, he groaned.

Tony couldn't blame him, Meeting Room C meant that it was some politic representative from City Hall. And that equalled deathly boredom. Thank the heavens, Tony was no longer responsible for all that.

“Come on”, Happy urged him.

“Sorry, Hap, I can't”, he decided. “I've got homework.”

It was silent for a moment, then Tony burst out laughing. The kid grinned cheekily at Happy, who looked like he just wanted to quit.

“Peter. You're 25, you're no longer in school.”

“Sorry, kiddo”, Tony wheezed, “doesn't work any more.”

“Aw, man”, he moaned but still got up and begrudgingly followed Happy. “This sucks.”

***

“Seriously”, Tony groaned for the umpteenth, “time for bed!”

“No, it's not”, Peter decided, “I'm a grown-up, remember?”

“And I'm almost a grown-up!”, Morgan stated. That she was only 11 didn't seem to matter right now.

“I'm a grown-up, too”, Tony shot back. “And I'm tired, want to sleep and you crazy kids are keeping me up.”

“But Daaaad”, Morgan moaned, “I can't go to bed! I've got homework, and Petey has to help me!”

Oh fucking hell. Morgan and Peter looked up at Tony with the smuggest grins and damnit, Tony was not in the mood to start arguing with them.

“Peter Benjamin Parker. I thought that joke died with your graduation.”

“Clearly not”, he shot back.

“Right then.” The quickest and easiest way was just to play along. “Homework, and then bed.” He sat himself at the table and looked expectantly at his daughter, who started to blush. Peter on the other hand had to bite down hard to keep from laughing out loud.

“Ugh, fine.” Morgan rolled her eyes and got up. “Good night.” She leaned over and put a kiss on Peter's cheek.

“Was a nice try”, he chuckled. “Sleep well, sweetie.”

“Come on, Morgoona.” Tony held his hand out and, albeit with an anger glare (as intimidating as the anger glare of a tired 11-year-old could be), she took the outstretched hand. “Don't worry, tomorrow morning you and Peter can do all the homework the world can possibly offer.”

#avengers #irondad #spiderson #ironman #tony stark #spider-man #peter parker #Pepper Potts #happy hogan #steve rogers #morgan stark

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rynhaswritersblock · 4 years

Text

competitive | p.p.

summary: you and peter have had an interesting relationship due to the fact that you're both competing for being number one in your class. but, over time, a small, unexpected romance grows out of the rivalry.

warnings: like one (1) cuss word, REALLY FLUFFY ENDING DWLJSLF

+ + +

"parker!" you shout as you walk out of your physics class. the boy's head turns at you as he swings open his locker, eyebrows raised. you reach him, leaning on the locker next to his. "what'd you get on the calc test?"

"a hundred." he replies, a smug yet innocent smile painted on his face.

you didn't understand how peter parker could be so cocky and innocent at the same time. as much as you denied it, if it weren't for you two's ongoing rivalry, the boy's soft expressions would have you in a puddle every time you saw him. luckily for you, you were quick to remind yourself of the competition each moment you made contact with his chocolate eyes.

a groan falls from your lips as you lean your head on the locker behind you.

"what? did you not get a hundred?" he cocks his head.

"i did. the bad part is that you did, too."

"sorry, y/n." he shrugs as the two of you began to walk to government together. "why do you still care so much anyways? it's not like it's gonna ruin your life if you're barely behind me."

"i've dreamed of being valedictorian my entire life, peter. i need it if i want to be able to pick what college i want to go to. plus, it's not like i have an internship with tony stark on my resume."

peter's face burned at your words. he'd wanted to stop the rivalry for a while now, as he had began to grow a crush on you. his heart would speed up every time you smirked at him after answering a question right in class. roses would bloom on his cheeks whenever he saw you in the library, curled up on the same couch you'd always go to when you studied. he would frequently subconsciously look for you when he entered a room, disappointment filling him if you weren't there. it took ned bringing it up for him to finally realize his feelings for you, and he slowly became increasingly more awkward every time the two of you would talk.

you barely noticed how his snarky comebacks began to worsen; you were focused solely on becoming valedictorian and ignoring how your heart would speed up every time the boy smiled.

the two of you entered your government class and you greeted your teacher, mrs. smith. you absolutely loved her; she would always joke around with you and she was young enough to recognize all the references you made, frequently finishing the vine for you when you called out the beginnings of one. (a/n: i had a teacher like this last year and i love and miss her so much :/ thank u for coming to my ted talk)

little did you know, mrs. smith had not only caught onto the rivalry between you and peter, but she had noticed how you both would react at each other's actions. she and the rest of your teachers had a bet on when the two of you would finally loosen up and get together (she put down fifty bucks for peter to kiss you in the hallway during a heated moment).

you sat at your seat, setting your bag down as you glanced up at peter, who was sitting just one row and two seats away from you.

"the answer is c." peter answered; the class was going over the homework from last night.

"good job." mrs. nodded, a small smile on her lips as she watched peter turn around, the boy raising a smug eyebrow at you.

you ignored your burning cheeks as you shook your head playfully, huffing slightly.

at the end of class, you were about to leave before mrs. smith pulls you aside. you scrunch your eyebrows as you look to your left, seeing peter already standing there.

"don't worry, you're not in trouble." the woman says, making your anxiety fade away. "i just need to talk to you two after school about your grades. for a good reason."

the two of you nod, giving each other looks before mrs. smith shoos you off, a knowing smile on her face as the door shuts behind you.

+ + +

"y/n." mj said, making you jump.

"what?"

"you've been staring at peter for the last minute." she laughs as she shuts her book closed. your eyes widened slightly at her actions; mj never closed her book unless something serious was going on. "do you have something to tell me?"

"no. nothing." you said sternly, shaking your head as you look down at your lunch.

"alright." the girl huffs.

guilt runs through you at her attitude, which was a reasonable attitude for the situation.

"i don't know, mj." you say simply.

"okay. well, what i do know is that he's looking at you right now."

your cheeks heat up as you slowly look up, immediately making eye contact with the boy, the both of you becoming flustered before you quickly regain yourself and raise a cocky eyebrow at peter. he tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly, his expression not matching the softness of his face. you almost let out a laugh before the bell rings, making you jump and pack up your lunch.

+ + +

the final bell rings and you leave your english literature class, a sigh escaping your lips as you begin to make your way to mrs. smith's classroom, the curiosity building in you. you reach the room, pushing the door open to reveal peter, sitting atop of one of the tables in front of mrs. smith's desk.

"where's mrs. smith?" you ask, confusion all over your face as you walk over, leaning on a nearby table.

"dunno." peter shrugs, sighing.

with that, the woman walks in, papers in her arms.

"sorry about that." she apologizes, walking over to her desk and setting the papers down, looking back up at the two of you. "now: i'm gonna start by saying that practically the entire school knows about the rivalry between you two to be top of your class."

your breath hitches and the two of you look at each other, eyes slightly widened.

"we as teachers know that you're stressed about college, so, we've decided to make you both valedictorian."

a gasp falls from your lips, a smile about to tug on your lips before you look at peter, the both of you confused and not entirely satisfied by the "solution".

"wait. how is that gonna work? and why are you the one to tell us this?" you ask.

"you'll both be given the title valedictorian and both deliver a speech at graduation; if you want to do that together or separately, that's up to you. i'm the one telling you this because when principal davis told us the news, i immediately asked if i could do it since you two are my favorite students." mrs. smith explains.

you nod, trying to swallow all the information before she begins shooing the two of you away, congratulating you and slyly mentioning that you and peter should stop fighting. the two of you leave, half-smiles on your faces as the door shuts behind you and you and peter begin making your way down the empty hallway.

"that was weird." you scoff.

"yeah. i know she explained it but it doesn't make much sense to make two people valedictorian." peter replies, nodding his head as he purses his lips.

you hesitate for a few seconds before opening your mouth. "you know, i've started thinking about this whole competition thing."

peter looks over at you, confused. you continue.

"i think the whole pressure society puts on us to do well has gotten to be too much. i mean, look at us, we've started this whole rivalry thing over a title that will just help us get into some institution where we'll sit more and have more knowledge that may not be necessary shoved down our throats and we'll get more depressed and anxious and-"

words that have been blooming in your lungs, itching to spill out of your mouth, finally do, pouring out of you like a waterfall. the words you say make you angry at the world.

"the entire system is screwed, peter,"

the boy sees the panic rising in you; anxiety attacks were something you had often, and he had caught you having one a while back. you stop in your tracks, unable to stop the words from flying out of your mouth. peter stares at you, unsure of what to do.

"the whole world is screwed and all these past generations have dumped their shit on us, and then they tell us that it's our job to fix it! and it is, because they're all gonna die, and while we host their funerals, the earth is getting hotter and the people are getting poorer and-"

confidence bursts in peter and the boy swiftly puts his hands on your cheeks, crashing your lips together. you freeze, your body stiffening before the boy slowly pulls away. your eyes meet, both of them wide as you stand there. you slowly process the boy's actions before you wrap your arms around peter's neck, pulling him to you and reconnecting your lips. you feel the boy put his hands on your waist as he kisses you back, your body arching slightly as he leans over to kiss you deeper. after a moment, you pull away, foreheads connected as you slowly open your eyes.

you inhale, staring into peter's chocolate eyes before the two of you back up slightly. the boy gulps.

"i-i'm gonna... i'm gonna go this way, did you want me to-" peter stutters.

"i'm going that way too... actually... uh, yeah..." you choke, the boy giving you a soft smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

the two of you begin walking down the hallway, giddy smiles growing on your faces as you both stare at the ground. your breath hitches as your fingers brush together, peter looking to you for approval before slowly lacing them together, an electric current shooting up your arm as he gives your hand a light squeeze.

unbeknownst to the two of you, mrs. smith had her head peeking out the door, phone videoing the entire thing. she sent the video to the group chat of teachers, a satisfied smirk on her face as she told them that they all owed her fifty dollars.

little epilogue notes: - peter walked you home and shyly asked you to be his girlfriend (you said yes ofc) - the whole school found out almost right away and turns out most people had placed bets on the two of you. there was a lot of money exchanging that day. - a few days later, mrs. smith pulled you after class and told you about the video she took - you were a little mad but deep down thankful - you ended up asking her to send it to you and you watched it whenever you were missing peter - peter wanted to do the valedictorian speech with you and you did and everybody absolutely loved it - the two of you bounced jokes off of each other with mean insults that got reactions from everyone - you were both accepted at MIT and tony stark paid for it for both of you despite your attempts to deny the offer - you eventually got to meet the man and it was there you found out about peter's secret identity - peter was worried you'd be mad but you thought it was so cool so everything was fine - tony even let the two of you use the avengers' movie room whenever you wanted and the rest of the avengers thought you were absolutely adorable - the rest is up to the imagination :)

+ + +

enemies to lovers UGH

#peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagines #marvel #mcu #spiderman #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #fanfic #fluff #writing #peter #parker #thomas holland

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dragonnan · 4 years

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The work I thought it would be fun to share is an in-progress unpublished work that will likely take a while to put together. I was incredibly inspired by the brilliant writing of both @hanuko and silentsaebyeok who both have stories about Wilson Fisk. Here is my take on that character in an Avengers fic!

Untitled Fic

Setting: near the end of Homecoming and just prior to Tony reconciling with Pepper

AU of Daredevil season 2-3 (Karen didn't murder Wesley as Fisk's mother didn't remember her visit. She only remembered Ben)

Late afternoon sunlight had turned every pane of glass into a pool of gold. The patio doors of the tall office building had been left open – allowing the haze of late day warmth to coil upwards; carried on drafts of air heated from the concrete below. Rubber soles squeaked softly against marble that knew mainly Italian leather and the rare alligator hide. Two-hundred dollar sneakers were incongruous to the wealth of the man sporting them, but then, Tony Stark had never been a fan of the expected.

“So what wrong side of the bed did I wake up on this morning to earn this clandestine meeting before my Kai Jiew has had time to settle?” One hip resting on the edge of the railing, Tony managed to shudder back a yawn before it became embarrassing. Behind him, the familiar snap of a briefcase lock barely drew a glance as “Dilbert” pushed up his glasses and withdrew a thick file from the depths.

Further in the shadows, the larger man, silent, stood with his head at an oddly subdued angle. Often reticent in the blessedly few interactions Tony had ever had with the man, it was little surprise that it was his assistant who spoke.

“Apologies, Mr. Stark. I assure you this won't take long.”

The unstated request, of course, was that Tony sit at the table positioned within the large room. Tony raised an eyebrow. “You didn't say please.”

A smooth, tight lipped smile, followed his quip. Meanwhile, the still silent other member of their trifecta finally stepped forward – grasping one of the stuffed leather office chairs and rolling it back before seating himself. Wilson Fisk wove his hands together above propped elbows. “I appreciate your willingness to meet me so early, Anthony. I felt it best to speak with you privately given the... delicacy... of the issue at hand.” He gestured towards the single remaining chair.

Well that wasn't at all circumspect.

Returning the tight lipped smile in kind, Tony grabbed the chair facing the head of the table and sat; leaning back and settling his arms on the padded rests. “You know, usually I let Pepper handle SI business. Not sure if you got the memo but I'm not actually CEO any longer. How was prison, by the way? I heard the kitchen got a new chef.”

Ignoring the comment, Fisk tapped his thumbs together and kept a close study of the polished inlay before him. “That is something we share in common,” he looked up, then, finally, “I, too, find that most business affairs tend to be... tedious.” Fisk grinned, a flash of small, even, teeth, before he nodded towards his assistant... Wilbur? Weston? “Mr. Wesley, if you would please?” He turned back to Tony – also leaning back and resting his thick hands over his thicker waist. “I can assure you, however, that what we're here to discuss is a matter that falls somewhat outside the purview of Stark Industries.”

While his employer spoke, Wesley neatly stacked the pages of the file before sliding the bundle across the polished tabletop to Tony. Eager to just get everything done with, Tony pressed his hand flat on the cover to slide it close, flipped it back... and froze.

Across from him, Fisk continued speaking. “I have found that I have an over-abundance of pressure on me as I attempt to rebuild was was lost during my incarceration. Aside from the judgement of the good people of this city I also have faced an ongoing assault from a number of vigilantes. This city, for all of its potential, has the unfortunate side effect of breeding these... vermin... faster than the rats that inhabit the sewers. As it is they are beneath the notice of those who claim to protect the people of this city.” His hands stilled – lying one on top of the other as Tony silently turned to the next page. “Too busy protecting the rest of the world, perhaps.”

Tony made himself turn to the next page; his eyes blinking rapidly.

“Of course it isn't in my nature to harm innocents. I find it distasteful to involve women and children in such matters. And, yet, I find that it is, in fact, a child at the center of my current dilemma. Of greater irony is that this child has both power and connections that would, under normal circumstances, place him outside the reach of those who would wish him harm.”

The forth page was a photo – clipped from a newspaper and a duplicate to the framed image that sat on the worktable in Tony's lab. In the grainy image he stood, one arm slung around a young man's shoulders, as the kid received his certification for completing the “Stark Internship”. Tony licked his tongue across his teeth before closing the file once more.

Fisk let out a soft hum. “As it is, prison has a way of creating strange bedfellows. I met someone – a man you may know. Adrian Toomes. After some persuasion he had something very interesting to share with me. Something that, I can only imagine, you would wish to keep out of the hands of certain individuals.”

Tony wanted to clench his hands – his fingertips twitching before he pushed them flat against the wood beneath them. “Just to clarify you're threatening my intern?”

Fisk leaned forward; hands folding tight before him on the table. “I was hoping we wouldn't have to play any games but given your refusal to read the rest of the documents Mr. Wesley provided, I will summarize them for you.” Here he stood; walking to the open doors facing the patio. “I know who Peter Parker really is. I know about his aunt. I know the names of his friends, where he goes to school, and where he buys his favorite sandwich every afternoon.” He rested his hands behind his back; squinting in the sunlight. “If he continues to disrupt my affairs in Hell's Kitchen, the consequences could be... unpleasant.” He glanced back at Tony; his face serene. “You realize I'm asking for very little. Keep your new pet leashed and allow me to conduct my business in peace. The child will never have to know my name. Other than what he may learn from news reports; of course.” Tugging his cuffs, Fisk turned to more fully face into the room. “I never wanted to involve you. This is the sort of attention I have spent a fortune to avoid. As it is I find myself in a position where reticence could cost me even more.”

Pushing to his feet, Tony could no longer stop his hands from fisting at his sides – though he managed to control the tremor as he joined Fisk. Side by side, the other man practically loomed over him.

“So you aren't just threatening a kid – you're threatening everyone he cares about. Little bit budget TV villain but you do you I guess.” Pulling off his tinted glasses, he stared up at the other man. “The thing is this little weekly drama you're playing?” he waggled his fingers back and forth, “way above your pay grade. Maybe stick to collecting on gambling debts and playing whack-a-mole with the other lowlifes in your contacts list.”

The smallest of smiles twitched at the corner of Fisk's lips. “I know you're someone who prefers visual aids,” his voice became guttural – losing the soft quality, “perhaps a demonstration would help to convince you.”

A glance to the side, the barest nod to Wesley, and the other man typed into his phone.

There was a moment – silence this far above the city.

And then an apartment complex, three blocks away, exploded into flame.

Horrified, Tony gave Fisk a single look, seeing the purpose in that cold gaze, before twisting the dial on his watch and backing up just enough to turn and take a running leap. One foot caught on the railing and with a surge of his muscles, he launched himself out into open space.

Terrifying free fall – the ground racing towards him at breakneck speed.

And then smooth metal wrapped his body and he shot towards the blaze.

:Cutting things a little bit tight, aren't we, Boss?:

“No time to chat, Fri. Emergency response status?” He twisted his body into an angle as the building grew large in his visor – too few residents stumbling free out onto the pavement.

:Fire and Rescue are three minutes away:

“Shit.” Aiming for a top floor window that had been blasted out with the explosion, Tony shot through the opening and made a quick scan of the room. He winced at the sudden burst of heat that briefly enveloped his suit. “Anyone on this level?”

He almost swore he could hear his AI sighing. :Apologies, Boss. I am unable to differentiate life signs from the ambient temperature. Also the heat is steadily rising and will soon be at levels exceeding this suit's tolerances.:

Ignoring the warning, Tony finished his check of the room and moved on to the next apartment. “Yeah, let's put a pin in that. Adjust audio input and scan for human voices.”

In the second apartment he found a single person – deceased. Same for the next two. In the forth apartment there were two dead but he also found a child – burned and terrified but alive – buried beneath the blankets in her parent's closet. Tony kept her wrapped to protect against the flames and rushed her to the sidewalk and into the arms of one of the firemen who had just arrived on scene.

“Explosion – multiple charges – there's still people...” He coughed at the black smoke boiling from the ruined building and dropped his visor back into place before returning inside.

Even with the protection of his suit the heat was breathtaking. There were no more survivors on the top floor so Tony proceeded to the next level down.

:I'm detecting instability in the surrounding structure.:

“We got three apartments left on this floor. Stop listening to the walls and keep listening for voices!”

The next sign of life he found, however wasn't a human but a howling dog still locked in its kennel. Tucking the kennel under one arm, Tony finished his search of that floor – finding three additional people and four more pets. With everyone holding their respective creatures he didn't risk another flight but, instead, soaked several blankets in a shower and guided them to a stairwell FRIDAY had located that was still relatively flame free. Then, turning back to his task he set out to locate more survivors.

Another five minutes in – fire and rescue now dousing the building as fireman began going door to door on the bottom two floors, Tony took the last one remaining.

It was then that disaster struck.

He'd just entered the first apartment – already racing towards the elderly man collapsed on the floor when there was a sudden burst of flames across the ceiling above – overlaid by a warning from FRIDAY.

:Boss, there is a weakening of the...:

“Shit!” His heartbeat was a drum in his ears as hooked a thick blanket from the ratty chair in the living room – slow motion tornados of smoke lifting up from the surrounding dry surfaces. Propulsion would actually take longer – factoring in the time to slow his speed before reaching the man. It was a fast paced eternity bolting across the ancient carpet. The blanket billowed out ahead of him and cloaked the man just moments before he wrapped arms around him – knowing that even inside the blanket he was burning the old man with the super heated surface of his suit.

He managed two steps to the window.

And then the world shattered in a concussive blast.

#fanfic #Self Promotion

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spideyspoods · 5 years

Text

minor inconvenience

Pairing: Peter Parker X F!Reader

Request: Combined @astrospideys & @spideypeach ‘s milestone celebration prompt (”a kiss. for good luck.”) with an anon request! “Hello dear! If you don’t mind can you write about peter and his childhood bestfriend being more than friend, but Peter is in dilema because he realized he wanted more but he doesn’t want to put the reader in danger because he’s spiderman. You can decide whether the reader knows Peter is spiderman or not. Thanks a lot!”

A/N: I’m truly sorry to everyone that this is so late, school’s been kicking my ass. However, I’m kind of proud of this one so I hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: Fluff.

Word Count: 2k

---

Peter Parker wasn’t one to get distracted during school. In fact, he prides himself on being a great student; one who rarely failed tests. However, he’s noticed that his mind starts to wander whenever he’s around Y/N L/N. They’ve known each other since they were in the first grade and have practically been attached at the hip. Their friendship grew stronger as the years progressed, but Peter couldn’t help but yearn for more.

He remembers May teasing him about how close they were ever since they started to hang out. He’d constantly deny her claims by calling her ‘just a friend,’ but do friends feel their heart leap at the mere sight of the other? Peter’s been stuck in his own thoughts, thoughts of her, for the past few months trying to convince himself that it wasn’t a crush. However, his heart said otherwise.

He wanted to confess his feelings for her so badly, but there was a minor inconvenience to his idea. Y/N had no idea that he was Spider-Man. Despite telling each other everything, he failed to mention his alter ego. It’s not like he wanted to hide it, he just didn’t want to endanger her.

So with that, the bell rang as Peter headed out the door and to his locker. “Parker!” a voice called out. He turned his head and found the girl of his dreams stepping towards him. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, vibrance and sunshine practically radiating off of her. “We’re still on for tonight? Your place?”

“I don’t know, I was thinking of going to Delmar’s,” he trailed off, jokingly. She feigned a pout, crossing her arms. “Rude. To think I was going to bring you some gummy worms-”

“Hm, I guess that sweetens the deal.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the pun, “What? Is my own presence not enough for you?” It is. Peter’s mind went foggy, trying to recover from his thoughts. “I’m joking! Now get to class, I’ll see you later.” She nodded, “I’ll let Ned know. Later, nerd.” Y/N turned before disappearing into the midst of students and left Peter with a lovestruck look. He had completely forgotten Ned would be joining them.

---

“Hey, you know how we’re studying tonight with Y/N?” Peter asked, poking at the tray of food in front of him. Ned nodded, taking a sip of water. “You mean like we always do every Thursday?”

“Well yeah, but this time it’s different. Would it be able to be just me and her tonight?”

Ned quirked a brow, “Why? Wait a minute,” he gasped “are you finally dating? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Peter’s eyes bulged out his head, frantically shaking his head before hushing his friend who may have been a bit too loud. “Because it hasn’t happened yet! I was kind of trying to make that happen tonight.”

“No worries, I got you. I’ll let her know that something came up. But you owe me.”

“Anything!”

“Help me rebuild the death star.” Peter shrugged, that wasn’t too bad.

“Wait rebuild?!”

---

The minute Peter got home, he ran to his room. He took in the sight of opened drawers and papers strewn across his desk. He glanced at his watch. 5 PM. She’d be here by 7. He huffed, knowing that he had a lot of work to do.

---

May set her purse down by the couch and slipped off her shoes. “Peter, I’m home!” Silence. At first she didn’t think anything of it, before seeing that the living room was in pristine condition as if it was a hotel. “Peter?” She opened the door to his room that was now organized; every single item had its place. “I’m not complaining, but is there something going on?” Peter turned from the mirror and to his confused Aunt, “Y/N is coming over.”

“She always does, but this cleaning thing is pretty foreign for you.” Then it all clicked in her head. “Are you finally going to ask her out?” Peter’s eyes wandered to the wall, still extremely focused on adding the right amount of gel to his dark locks. “What no it’s not like that,” he turned to his Aunt “but if I was going to ask her out...does my hair look okay?”

---

His phone buzzed, and he saw a notification from Y/N.

On my way! :) Attached was a photo of her holding the large bag of gummy worms to her head. He smiled to himself, that was definitely her new contact photo. Right as he locked his phone, he got a call. “Requiring back up! Robbery three blocks away-” Damn it. He let out a sigh, but slipped his suit on. “May tell Y/N that I’m going to be a little late!”

“You haven’t told her that you’re Spider-Man yet?”

“No! I just- it’s complicated. I gotta go!”

---

Y/N knocked on the apartment door to reveal Peter’s Aunt. She smiled, welcoming her in. “Hey, Y/N! Peter said that he’d be running late but feel free to make yourself at home. I have a few errands to run, so you’re in charge!” Y/N shot her a thumbs up. “Don’t worry, Peter running late isn’t anything new anymore.Thank you, May!” She breezed out the door and Y/N set her things down in Peter’s room. “Wait a minute.” Peter’s room was actually neat?

In all ten years of knowing him, he had never been one to tidy up. Not that he was a slob, he just lived in organized chaos. Without the clutter on his shelves, she could finally see the photos in the picture frames. There were a few of him and Tony, courtesy of the Stark Internship, one with Ned, an older photo with May, but one stood out the most.

A photo of her with Peter during their freshman homecoming. Neither of them had a date, and May thought it would be cute for the two of them to go together. Little did he know, that was the day Y/N started to fall for Peter Parker. Sure she had always loved him platonically, but something changed in high school. His chocolate eyes were always gentle and the way his brows furrowed whenever he concentrated was enough to make her swoon. The only thing stopping her from admitting her feelings was the reason that she was sure he didn’t feel the same. Not only that, but what if it made things awkward? So she compromised, keeping her feelings to herself.

Minutes turned into hours and Peter still wasn’t back yet. It was already 10, and Y/N decided to make herself comfortable. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she borrowed one of his sweatshirts?

---

Peter slowly opened his window, before jumping into his room. For some reason, everyone decided to commit crimes at the same time. He froze, seeing Y/N lying in his bed sleeping. He frowned, feeling guilty that he left her all alone. Peter scrambled for his clothes and looked around. Now where was the sweatshirt he left out?

“What the hell?” he heard a groggy voice call out. Y/N was now wide awake, staring back at him. A spandex suit clung to his legs and his face paled.

“Okay-”

“I knew it! So you are Spider-Man!” she exclaimed in glee.

“No- wait you knew?”

“Well I thought you were and I asked Ned, but he said no very unconvincingly. So there’s that.” Of course she knew.

“I’m sorry for ditching you, wait is that my sweater?” He smiled to himself, and winced before clutching his side. Y/N choked, but noticed that he was in pain. “Yes, but I don’t think that matters right now. You’re literally bleeding and oh-” Past what just happened, she noticed that he was shirtless. Her eyes lingered longer than they should have, before dragging him to the bathroom to find rubbing alcohol.

The wound burned, but the mere sight of her seemed to dull the pain. “You know this reminds me an awful lot about the first time we met.”

Peter sat down on the hardtop at school, with a small lego set in front of him. He had just watched his first Star Wars movie with his Uncle Ben last week, and ever since then he had been enamored by each of the characters and spaceships. For his birthday, he got a small tie fighter lego set and he brought it to school so he could assemble it during recess. He didn’t have many friends, but he was okay with that. A fellow group of first graders approached him and snickered, “Where are the rest of your friends? Oh wait, you don’t have any!” followed by giggles. He ignored them, it wasn’t anything new after all.

“I’m talking to you, dork!” The kid in front of him let out a yell before letting his small foot crush the legos underneath. “No!” Peter whimpered. The pack of bullies started to laugh even harder before they heard a high pitched voice yell. “Stop it!” A little girl with pigtails stomped towards them, “You’re not being nice! Leave him alone!” The blonde kid scoffed, “What? Are you friends with this dork?” She stood in front of a frowning Peter and crossed her little arms, “He’s not a dork! He’s my friend! Go or I’m telling the teacher!” At that, they all scrambled. The little girl turned back to Peter who sniffled. “Hey, I’m Y/N! Can I help you build your spaceship?” Y/N smiled wide, showing off her missing front teeth. Peter wiped away his tears with his sleeve, “Okay, do you watch Star Wars?”

“Yes! It’s my favorite! Do you want to be friends?”

“Yeah.”

Both of them were brought back to reality, a smile dancing upon their faces as they remembered what had happened years ago. “You were cute back then.” Y/N smirked, “Are you saying that I’m not cute anymore?” Peter tensed up. Uh oh. “No, not at all! You’re not cute,” her face fell “That’s not what I- You’re very pretty.” He dug himself in a deep hole. “Well thank you, Parker-”

“You’re also really nice, and funny, and smart. You’re a great person, Y/N.” He huffed out. Now or never, right? On the other hand, Y/N looked down, trying to hide the child-like grin on her face. “I wasn’t aware that it was compliment time-”

“I think I like you. Well not think, I know I like you. I have for a while.” He felt her touch slowly slip away. Great, he thought, you screwed it up. “Did I make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry-” Y/N got up to quickly press her lips to his. It was short, but he could feel the passion and intensity.

“You talk too much.” Their heartbeats echoed in their ears.

“Wait so you like me?” She nodded, a blissful smile on her face. “For the longest time, I just thought you didn’t feel the same way.”

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to get hurt because of my job.” He stated, looking into her eyes. “That’s a risk I’m okay with taking.” He tentatively kissed her again, resting his hand on top of hers. “I really like you, Y/N.”

“I like you too, Peter Parker. Now, just because you’re cute doesn’t make up for the fact that you haven’t helped me study for the physics quiz tomorrow.”

---

Y/N and Peter strolled through the halls hand in hand. They approached Y/N’s next class; physics. Both of them stopped by the door with a smile. “Relax, you’ll ace this.” Peter spoke. She bit her lip, “You’re just saying that.” He grazed her hand with his thumb before planting a kiss on her cheek. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” she smiled.

“It was a kiss. For good luck.”

“That’s cute, I’ll catch you later.” Y/N entered her class, while Peter stood in the hallway. “When did that happen?” Ned called out, but Peter was too enthralled in his own bliss to answer back.

He fell for her hard, and he was okay with that.

---

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starkerforlife6969 · 5 years

Text

Nerd Tony x Popular Peter, High school AU

Tony can’t stop staring at him.

Across the classroom, near the window where Peter Parker is bathed in afternoon sunlight and shimmering like an enchanted thing of beauty. With his perfect coffee curls and his hazel eyes and his effortless grace, Tony feels lust coil hot and tight in the pit of his gut.

Peter, who’s scribbling away at his paper, looks up as though he can sense eyes on him, and looks across the classroom.

Tony snaps his eyes back down to his desk guiltily; hot shame rising up to his cheeks, before sneaking another look to see Peter still looking over at him; perfect pink lips lifted into a smile.

Tony tries to smile back, but he thinks it comes out as a distorted grimace and he hates himself.

Is it not enough that Peter is the most obscenely beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life? But does he have to be so nice? The popular clique, the ones that roam the halls of high school exuding confidence and superiority. The ones who never have to worry about anything, the ones that everyone else lower down in the food chain simultaneously hates and envies- why does Peter have to be the only one who is nice?

Tony, a surly outcast who doesn’t care for interacting with his peers, eats alone most of the time. Sometimes he camps out in the biology rooms at lunch with a boy from the year above named Bruce, but most of the time he likes to be by himself. A lone wolf. He feels above all the high school drama- transcended because he knows that this is just a temporary state. What happens here and now doesn’t matter. Tony won’t ever fit in here. This is not his arena. His arena will be just after college, then he’ll start living his life and he’ll be popular and rich and as confident as he likes without having to worry about getting shoved into lockers by jocks who think that just because they can catch a ball they’re better than him.

But Peter Parker makes him…

Makes his blood run hot. Makes him want to engage in the stupid, so so stupid little scenarios. Makes him want to text until his fingers ache, makes him consider cramming love letters into the boy’s locker or maybe even hoping against hope to end up getting partnered with him in something again like they were in English a while ago.

But Tony isn’t special.

Everyone thinks Peter is beautiful. The boy may be small in stature but he has the face of an angel, and he lives on the rich side of town, he has perfect skin, and he’s on the cheerleading squad and he hosts supposedly phenomenal parties at his mansion whenever his parents are away. Peter extends invitations to everyone but Tony never ever goes. Most of the student body lusts after him, but Tony-

Tony thinks he can see a little more. He and Peter share practically all the same classes, and even though Peter seems on the surface like another pretty boy living on the highest rungs of society, though he seems like just another cheerleader, just another person who comes to school in a shiny red camaro in expensive clothes- he’s also…

He’s also in every AP class, and he has a grade point average that almost rivals Tony’s. He’s never missed a day of school and he never skips out on lessons and he gives all his teachers handwritten thank you notes at the end of each year.

And instead of ignoring Tony, or sneering at him, or shoving him into a locker, Peter every so often, gives him that gorgeous, heart stopping smile.

But then the end of class comes, and he can only watch as Peter and the rest of the other beautiful people stand up and leave. Tony lingers, waiting until the room is practically empty before packing up his things and going to find Bruce.

Homecoming is an ever-present shadow that lurks on the cusp of the horizon.

Tony tries to stay above rumours, really he does, but even he can’t help hearing, as he collects his physics books, as a number of students whisper about how Peter Parker rejected William’s request.

“He said he was going to ask someone,” a girl whispers, and Tony cocks his head, straining to hear:

“Really? Ask who?”

“Maybe he has a boyfriend who doesn’t go here. He’s probably dating an older guy.”

“That’s so unfair. Maybe it was just an excuse not to go with William. Maybe he’s waiting for someone else to ask?”

“Do you think I should?”

“I would pay to see that!”

Tony tries to ignore it, but instead he obsesses over it. He’s not going to Homecoming because it’s all superfluous and he doesn’t need to put himself through it. His mom had looked sad when he told her, but she’d ultimately understood and Tony had tried to reassure her. This doesn’t matter. None of it matters, and even though he has reoccurring dreams about walking into the hall with Peter on his arm, even though he thinks about wearing his dad’s old tux with staples in the sleeves, even though the thought of slow dancing with the only boy in school that manages to hold his attention seems to torment him every waking moment of the day- none of it matters.

He’s in the middle of eating a tuna sandwich and trying very hard not to get fish stuck in his braces when the entire cafeteria falls into a hush.

It’s unnerving, and he looks up curiously, expecting to see…honestly, he’s not sure, but he doesn’t expect to see Peter Parker standing at his table; heart stoppingly gorgeous in a silky red bomber jacket embroidered with green flowers, and a low cut v-neck black top and light wash jeans. He’s not expecting to see Peter looking at him, pink on his cheeks and glitter in his eyes. “Tony?” Peter asks quietly, but it seems exceedingly loud in the amazed quiet of the canteen.

Tony swallows a hard lump of tuna and stares in amazement. He almost wants to clean the dust smudges off his glasses to make sure he’s seeing things clearly. “Uh…hi?” He manages, croaking a little and instantly glowing scarlet as Peter smiles beside him. Peter’s voice is smooth as velvet; Tony’s still cracks here and there on certain words.

“I was wondering if you were going to Homecoming?”

What-how-Tony’s brain isn’t working right. He feels like a complete mess in the face of Peter’s elegance. “I…I wasn’t planning on it?” He forces out and Peter nods like this is what he expected, a few perfect curls tumbling into his forehead.

“I was thinking, um, maybe if you decided to go we could…” he shrugs, a small, hopeful smile on his face as he tips his head, “we could go together? If you want.”

The words don’t compute. Nothing really makes sense. He sets down his sandwich and tries not to melt under the thousand eyes looking over at them. He glances at Peter suspiciously; his heart pounding. “Is this…” he whispers, barely audible to his own ears, “is this a joke?” Fuck Peter, if it is. He’s just like all the others-

“What?” Peter asks, eyebrows furrowing together in adorable confusion. “What? No, Tony, I…I’m not joking.”

He sounds so sincere, but surely he can’t be. “We’ve never even talked,” Tony points out, “why would you want to..?”

Peter’s cheeks go even pinker and he ducks his head. “I mean- no, you’re right really, but I just- remember when we were paired up last semester in English? I just- I don’t know, you’re really…I thought we had fun.”

Peter remembers that? Tony had thought that the connection between them was entirely one-sided. He’d thought that Peter was just nice to him the way he was nice to everyone. But did he- did he feel how Tony felt about it? All flushed and excited because Peter Parker was sitting next to him and laughing at his jokes and- that was more than just politeness? He swallows hard, and nods jerkily. “No! No, yeah,” he stutters out, “that was fun.”

Peter smiles again; serene and breathtaking. “I get Homecoming might not be your scene, so maybe we could do something else? Um- you like sci-fi movies, right?”

Tony does love sci-fi movies, and his heart skips a beat over the fact that Peter remembers him saying that. Is this even possible? Could he see a sci-fi movie with Peter Parker? And yet…he should rise above it, really he should, but there’s something about the boy before him that- that makes him want to buy a carnation and hold Peter’s hand and smile with shiny metal on his teeth as his mom takes a photo on their old, beaten up camera. “Homecoming,” Tony whispers definitively, “homecoming would be- that would be nice.”

“Cool,” Peter whispers back; a smile in his voice, as he nods at Tony, and shoots him a little wave, before heading back to the table with the rest of them.

The cafeteria breaks back out into noise.

A little part of Tony continues not to believe it. Why wouldn’t he? He’s too smart to actually believe whole-heartedly that Peter Parker would want him. Why would he? Tony’s skin is still bumpy from puberty, and his braces make his lips all chapped and his glasses are too big for his face and he dresses like he just doesn’t give a crap (because he’s saving all his effort for when he’s older, for when he’s made it and if he pretends like he doesn’t care about having nice clothes, his mom won’t feel so guilty over not being able to afford them and he never, ever wants her to feel guilty).

He holds onto the hope, but carries the skepticism, and it only really goes away when Peter Parker steps into his house and gives Tony’s mother a box of chocolates and trips over the threshold because he’s so nervous.

The skepticism disappears completely when Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck under the cheesy disco ball to some pop song from the 80s and Tony’s hands shake as they settle on Peter’s waist and he’s certain he’s sweating like a pig, and Peter whispers into his ear, almost hidden by the music:

“I’m so glad you said yes,”

Tony holds him tighter; trembling and petrified and excited because he knows this is going to change everything. People are giving them looks, emotions range from surprise to utter confusion. “Why me?” He manages to choke out into Peter’s hair, and the boy pulls back to look up at him. Because it’s obvious to anyone in the world why Tony would like Peter, but why does Peter- why would he want some surly, easily annoyed nerd?

“You make me happy,” Peter says simply, one of his hands stroking through Tony’s short hair. “And I think there’s more to you than what everyone else sees.”

His heart clenches and flips with excitement. “I feel- I feel the same about- about you-“ he gushes and Peter laughs, burying his face into Tony’s sweaty neck.

When he gets home, his mom eagerly demands to know every single detail and instead of hiding in his room with his computer, he sits down and drinks the hot chocolate she makes in front of the fire, and tells her everything.

He almost doesn’t sleep that night because for the first time in a long time, he’s excited to go to school and see what might happen.

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mrs-dragneel-stark-solo · 4 years

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Unforseen Chasm (Part 71)

Final part of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 2358 Warnings: epilogue of sorts, happy endings for all parties, super-powered children, Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93 what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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