#peter parker fanfiction
why r there no ned leeds fics wtf put respect on my mans name and give him his own fic dammit
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A Tom Holland Imagine
Tom Holland x Female Reader
Imagine you're in a long distance relationship with Tom Holland.
Your heart thudded against your chest as you saw the call from your boyfriend. You always got so nervous, but it was a good kind of nervous.
You let the call connect, waiting until you saw his handsome face. "Hey, Tom."
"Hi, love," he grinned, eyes squinty and you glanced at the clock.
"It's like 3am over there. You didn't have to call," you said, voice soft.
He yawned, "I know, but I wanted to make sure you got home safe from work. How were your classes today?"
"They were good. Next week will be finals, and then summer," you smiled, watching as he shifted in his bed, pulling the blanket to his chin.
"I can't wait to see you. You're going to love London," he whispered. You could tell he was exhausted.
"I can't wait to see you, too. You should go back to sleep. Love you."
"Love you, too." He blew you a kiss and you ended the call.
For summer break, Tom had convinced you to spend the few months with him. He was pretty busy, but at least you would be at his home.
You were apprehensive about it. You hadn't been dating long, and most of it had been on the phone, but there was no better way to see if things were going to work out then to jump in head first.
Tom: Are you sure you don't want me to come in and get you?
You bit your lip as you read the text. You had just landed in Heathrow Airport and it was huge. You couldn't imagine all of the people. He was bound to be recognized.
For the most part, your relationship had remained under wraps. If everything went okay this summer, maybe it would be alright to be a bit more public. Even still, you were already so overwhelmed.
He texted you before you could even respond.
Tom: I totally understand how you feel, babe. I'll be in the car waiting.❤️
It took you awhile to figure out where to get your luggage and how to actually exit the massive place, but your boyfriend gave very detailed instructions. It was cute. He was so good to you.
The parking lot he was in was pretty quiet. You figured he chose it on purpose. He jumped out of the car when he saw you.
"Y/N!" he smiled widely, walking quickly to your side. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, lifting you slightly. "I can't believe you're here!"
"I know!" you giggled, taking in his bright eyes and sharp features. You were going to burst with joy.
"How was the trip? A bit jet lagged, yeah?"
You pulled back, unable to look away. You couldn't believe he was actually here, in front of you.
"It hasn't hit me yet. Plus, I'm pretty excited to see you," you finished your sentence, almost shyly.
"I'm so excited, too. I can't believe it," he said again, grinning widely.
He helped you load your luggage into the car. "Wait, I almost forgot," he said before you climbed in.
You turned as he walked closer. This time he cupped your cheeks, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.
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Breathe- Peter Parker Imagine (Spider-Man)
Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader
Word Count: 422 words
Warning(s): cussing, negative self-talk (be nice to yourself, please)
Summary: After doing something that felt ridiculous, (Y/n) turns to Peter for comfort and someone to rant to.
Author's Note: This is inspired by something that happened to me and I needed some self-comfort.
I shoved open the door to Peter's place and slammed it shut. May watched me as I threw my bag to the floor and rubbed circles into my eyes.
"Nice to see you too," May mumbled, walking over.
"May," I asked. "May I please swear?"
"If you need to," she replied hesitantly.
"FOR FUCK"S SAKE," I yelled before taking a few deep breaths.
"Oh no," she pulled me into a hug without any more questions.
"What's going on," Peter asked as he walked into the room.
"Don't know yet," May replied. "But... how about you two go talk and I'll bring up some food in a minute."
"Thank you," I muttered before stepping back.
Peter grabbed my bag off the floor before wrapping an arm around me and leading me to his room. I sat with my back against the pillows. Peter sat next to me and placed my bag at the end of the bed. His arms wrapped around me again.
"Now," he said. "Let me know what's going on?"
"It's dumb," I shook my head.
"Not if it's this upsetting."
"I... I was studying for one of my classes and I got through the whole chapter and then found out that I had studied some completely wrong chapters," I said. "So I did extra work and am still behind."
"Oh, sweetheart," Peter kissed my forehead as he saw how upset I really was.
"I just feel so stupid."
"Hey, it's alright, you're alright."
I curled into Peter's side and hid my face from him. He rubbed his hands up and down my back. He occasionally kissed my head and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. I looked up when I heard the door open.
"Pizza," May asked, holding the box out as a peace offering. Peter chuckled and nodded, mumbling a thank you to her.
I sat up and thanked her properly. Peter sat up with me, grabbing a slice for both of us.
"I've just... I've had no motivation to keep working," I explained. "Why would I want to when I made such a ridiculous mistake?"
"I could help you," Peter offered.
"We aren't in the same classes," I chuckled.
"I can still help," he leaned over and grabbed my bag. "What class do you need the most help in?"
"Peter, you don't have to-"
He leaned over and pecked my lips, "I want to... okay?"
"Okay," I nodded. "Thank you."
"Of course," Peter kissed me again before pulling out one of my textbooks. "Now, let's get to work."
What I Write For
Small Moments With…
When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist
Some Original Characters
folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)
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Writing To The Void 🌾 Chapter 14
peter parker x oc story
SUMMARY: A series of letters written to Peter Parker, from his girlfriend while he was stuck in the soul stone.
A-N: ok ngl i liked how the start was coming along. But then i felt like i kinda rushed the last half of it lol. Hopefully it makes sense though
Another two months have gone by already, and no matter how many days I have to go without being by your side. Without seeing your face. The pain is still there, not as unbearable and horrible as it once was. But it's still there, and hell I'm surprised It hasn't caused me to go insane or to break down in public yet. Sometimes I still wonder what it would be like if you were still here. If that day, you hadn't like many others, disappeared.
Would we be fine? What would we be doing together right now? I'd like to think we would be hanging out in your bedroom, either watching Star Wars or just hanging out while your Aunt May comes in every hour or so to bring us snacks or to just check on us. But we aren't, and how i miss those days. Where it's simply just you and me, with all our worries simply thrown out a window as we just spend time together.
Sierra dropped her pen onto her bedsheets, a single strand of brown hair falling into her face as she stared at the paper down in front of her. She didn't know what was with her today, she could not seem to find the words to write into the next letter to Peter. It was like everything that she wanted to say at that moment had simply left her mind. And it bothered her a lot. She's never had this trouble before when she wrote the previous letters, every thing that seemed to flow out of her and onto the page in bursts of emotion as soon as she would touch her pen to the paper. It seemed to not be there today.
She glanced briefly at the shoebox, filled to the brim with the previous loose letters and then at the one in front of her. As she gently chewed on her lip, simply confused. What did she want to write? Why wasn't anything coming to her like it it usually would? the thoughts quickly crossed her mind but she shook them away. Perhaps I'm just hungry or thirsty, that should help...right?
Sierra gently lifted herself from her bed and onto the carpeted ground of her bedroom. She glanced into the mirror which sat opposite her bed and beside her desk briefly. Her eyes took in the bags underneath her eyelids from lack of sleep before they moved across to the makeup situated atop her vanity when something caught her eye. The mismatched pieces of lipstick and other beauty products sat there waiting to be used, but that wasn't what she was looking at.
No, instead it was much rather the small jagged piece of glass which sat on the vanity's surface. She hesitated for a moment, before walking over and reaching over and hovering her hand above the small shard. It was like she felt some kind of pull to it in that moment. As if she felt the need to drag it along her arm and draw as much blood as she could. In order toctake away the pain of losing her boyfriend. She wasn't sure why though considering she'd never really been that depressed to even think about harming herself at all. But here she was. The thoughts were as clear as day, and she didn't even know if it was just the grief she's been feeling which was getting to her head or not.
"Sierra! dinner!" The sound of her mother could be heard shouting from downstairs. Which snapped the brunette out of the sort of trance she'd been placed in then. All the thoughts and the slight tugging she felt towards the shard of glass disappeared in an instant. As she managed to turn herself around and walk out her bedroom door without a glance back.
She carefully made her way down the stairs and onto the first floor of their home, hearing the the talkative voices of her family getting settled down to eat in the dining room. When she made it in, she found herself sitting down on one of wooden dining chairs opposite her older brother. The smell of steak, vegetables and gravy filled her nostrils as she sat there. She found herself glancing towards her parents and brother who were all seated around her, as she picked her cutlery up slowly.
"How was school?" Her father asked, after a few moments of awkward silence between the four. As he tried to make atleast some conversation with his family. Sierra shrugged lazily, it was the same as always in her opinion. Her routine hadn't changed since that day, she still only hung around Eleanor. With also Brayden added into their friendship group now. She didn't really feel the need to tell her dad that though. So she didn't.
The girl poked around her food with her fork, taking small bites every so often. Her intention clear on trying to avoid as much eye contact and talking to her family as possible through dinner. She probably would have eaten in her room if she could, not that she would've eaten much in the first place though.
Sure she did miss those nights where they used to hang out and talk amongst themselves as a family. But it felt different now, with everything that had happened with all these people who had suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth. It of still felt more awkward now at dinnertime and she still didn't think it would change atleast, even after it happened like a year. Well maybe not to her though. Despite, herself kind of coming back to her normal self, if you counted smiling again that.
Eventually, dinner came to an end and Sierra found herself pushing her chair back from the table and standing up. She said a mumbled good night to her family members, took her plate back into the kitchen for either her mother or father to wash up. Before hurriedly rushing back up the stairs, to go back to her room. Where she hopefully could finish the next letter, she wanted to keep writing then. Now that she'd gotten atleast some food into her stomach.
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Prologue: Teach Me
Warnings: most chapters will have sexual content, so if you are under age please do not interact .
Word count: 445
Hey, just a little prologue to my new fic in celebration of my 100 followers.
"You what?" Tom asks almost shouting. "Thomas I'm serious" you say sitting down on his bed.
It was after one o'clock in the morning when you went to Tom's room to ask for his help. Girls were not allowed to be members of that fraternity but you were the exception since you were the younger sister of the president of the house.
"You can't just walk into my room and ask me to teach you how to have sex, Y/N, that's crazy" he says looking at you like you are crazy.
"But I need your help".
When you told Tom that you needed him to teach you how to have sex he thought you were going crazy, at the very least imagining things. You were always the cute and innocent girl who slept in the room down the hall and who always studied with him before a test, to see you asking for sex tips was almost unimaginable.
"Why do you want me to have sex with you?" he crosses his arms in front of his chest.
"I...I just...Tom I'm 20 years old and still a virgin, and when I date someone I want to know what to do, but I don't want to lose my virginity to just anyone, so I'm asking for your help, you're my best friend, I know you'll be good for me," you bite your lips nervously.
Tom wouldn't lie to himself, he had been incredibly attracted to you since he met you in the first year of college when he joined the fraternity, the pleated skirts you wore had already been the reason for several of his fantasies, and your innocent manner only made his dirty thoughts worse and worse. But there were still complications.
"Do you know what Harrison will do if he finds out about this? He will kill me, literally Y/N, he will literally kill me" That is one of the only things that is keeping him from accepting his crazy idea.
There was a rule created by your brother Harrison and known by all the frat guys, if they tried anything with you they would have to see Harrison afterwards, he was always an over protective brother and would not let anyone touch you inappropriately. As much as Tom wanted you, he couldn't challenge his best friend like that.
"He doesn't have to know, it's going to be our secret" you speak as you get out of bed and approach him "Please Tom, teach me".
It is at this moment that Tom breaks and thirst, he grabs your waist tightly and pulls you until your body clings to his and kiss you desperately.
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Rogers!Reader x Peter Parker
It started in the deep of the fighting between Tony Stark and your father. Something about that web-slinging teenage boy hooked onto you. You hadn't realized he went to your school until after the airport battle. The voice became easily recognizable and almost memorized. The library was where you fixated on knowing the boy. He was muttering to himself as he was trying to figure out his homework. You walked behind and whispered into his ear, "Hey, Underoos." You smirked and sat in the seat across from him. "Hey! How-" "Shh!" You giggled and held your finger up to your lips. "Don't want to give away our secrets, do we?" You smirked as he quickly shook his head.
"Y/n Rogers," you introduced yourself and stuck your hand out to him. "Peter...Parker," he shyly responded but didn't shake your hand. "Going to leave me hanging, Parker?" You questioned with a slight pout. "Y-you're kinda on the other side," Peter innocently responded. You rolled your eyes and put your hand on the table, "Trust me, my dad and Tony won't let this live out forever. I was basically raised with all of them surrounding me. I'm everyone's child at this point. My dad won't allow a broken family." You explained, "Plus, technically, no one has to know you shook my hand or even know me. I mean if anything, we do go to school together, and we didn't even know it until recently." Peter nodded along with your explanation. "Y-yeah, I-I guess that's true." You raised your hand up to him again. "Our little secret." You smiled brightly and felt his handshake yours. "Our secret," he agreed with a small smile.
The secret meetings grew from there. The pair of you avoided the topic of what Tony and Steve talked about. You focused on each other and schoolwork since each of you realized the classes you had that was the same but at different times. The pair of you just grew closer and closer and not just in a friendship type of way. After a few months of the secret meetings, soft and quick kisses were exchanged. Giggles were shared between the two of you whenever it would happen. Your secret grew by finding remote spots between classes to exchange romantic kisses and statements to one another with schedules.
"Oh, come on, Peter! Just one more," you whispered in the corner under the staircase. "Y/n, we need to get going," Peter would respond before you cut him off with another kiss. "Okay, now we can go," you whispered, and the pair of you walked in different directions to your classes.
After school, the pair of you met in the library for study sessions, at least that's what you two told your guardians. To be fair, there were times where Peter or yourself would help the other in subjects. Just sometimes, it was just the study of the anatomy of the human lips, particularly when they met another pair of lips while being pressed against the back wall of the library.
"Happy five months," you whispered between the kisses to Peter. "Happy five months," he repeated in the same soft tone. Your eyes stared into his brown ones. "I fucking love you, Peter Parker." You said with a hush and pressed your lips to his. His hands pressed up against your back and pulled away from you for a second, "I love you, Y/n Rogers." You beamed. It felt like nothing could stop the two of you.
At the instance of the Siberian Battle happened, everything crumbled around you. Your family was broken. You no longer had a home. You had to go into hiding with your dad. You couldn't even say goodbye to Peter. It all happened so fast. You had nothing. Your life was destroyed and tossed into the wind without any care-just to leave the country and have no one find you.
*Part Two Coming Soon*
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Devil Deep Inside (Mob!Tom Holland x Agent!reader) Part 1
“We have another mission for you,” Matty says, as soon as the last of us enter the War Room. “Name of the target?” I ask, my hands behind me, standing in the ‘at ease’ position. “Exciting trip for you guys, its Britain’s biggest mob this time, hence in London,” Russ answers, “The Holland family usually stays under the radar, but recently they have been inviting other mobs over, too many of them at once. We need an insider, a skilled insider,” he continues, his eyes turning to me. Holland? Why did that name sound familiar?
I brush off that thought away, getting my mind back in the meeting. “Who am I infiltrating though?” I ask, a small smirk coming on my face. I like a good challenge now and then. “The Holland family’s eldest son, Thomas Stanley Holland,” Matty answers, tapping on the tablet in her hand, making a picture of him pop up on the big screen. No way! My poker face stays intact but on the inside, I wanted to shout ‘I knew him in high school, and he was no mob boss’ son then’ but I stayed quiet. Tom Holland was the biggest nerd of school, short and skinny but now he looked nothing like it. His face and arms were very well sculpted, his eyes a brown doe shade, looking kind and naughty at the same time. His curls looked messy to perfection, a perfect mop on his head. The fitting pants leaving very little to the imagination. And he didn’t even have a shirt on in the picture.
He was hot. Panty dropping hot. Who in God’s name is this Greek God?
“Y/N?” My focus returns to the meeting, “Yes?” “Are you listening? And yes this was a picture he shared with the world. No one knows why,” Matty says. “Yes, umm… how do I.. gain his attention?” I asked, coughing a little at the awkwardness. Was my staring that obvious? “Among his common interests or daily lifestyles, most remain unknown, but we do know this, he makes frequent visits to Platinum Lace -” Matty says. “- The Best Known Gentleman’s strip club of London,” Russ finishes. Matty again taps on the screen and the picture of a posh looking club shows up on the screen.
“I don’t like where this is going…” Mac says slowly, his eyebrows creasing in worry. But at the same time, a smirk formed on my face, “Oh cmon have you never had a dream job in mind?” “Yes! And it's a normal one like being a scientist, and saving the world!” he remarks. “That’s why you don’t get laid. Mine was pole-dancing!” I shrug. “Good to know you’re on board with this. Let’s get you set up with the equipment,” Russ says, moving towards the door. “Wait! So we’re okay with it?” Mac questions, looking around the room. “It's Y/N’s mission. You all are backup. If she’s on board with it, then all of you have to be,” Matty says, then turns to look at me, “Are you on board with it?” “Yes!” ”No!” Mac and I reply at the same time, him obviously being the one saying ‘No’. I hit him on his shoulder, “My mission, my choices. I’m on board with it,” I start following Russ, “This is very exciting! It’s giving me the jitters!”
I mean, what can go wrong?
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could you write something where the reader joins tom for a red carpet event and she’s pregnant and she’s really insecure about her big bump and tom just reassures her and stuff?
a/n: this was so cute and fun to write! hope you enjoy, reblogs are appreciated!
requests are open (responses slow) so send in!
— ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ —
you hated being talked about, whether that be in a positive, or negative way, it was the one thing you absolutely hated about being in the public eye, but you couldn’t seem to escape it. you knew it was out of your control, people had opinions and things to say, and considering you were married to a well-known actor, it increased the amount of attention brought to you.
not that it was tom’s fault, it never was. you loved him for the person he was at heart, not what the media made him be, but with the amount of activity he was involved in with the media, it felt as if you were always brought and mixed into everything that involved him.
being six months pregnant, and going to your first ever award show as a pregnant woman, was something that truly made you scared for what the reaction was going to be. you loved being pregnant, tom and you were lucky enough and were blessed with a life-changing experience, how could you not be anymore happier? it was the amount of toxicity brought into your lives because of the voices of the media.
you tried your best to ignore it the majority of times you were faced with comments and judgments, but there were points in time that it really went to your heart, and took a toll on you. tom, however, was your safe haven. he always was there to pick you back up on your feet and lift you off of your wings to soar free without any of the troublesome worries of others, that’s what you loved most about him. he made you feel like the only girl in the world, getting to live his best life with the woman of his dreams, despite what others had to say.
that’s why today, in your hollywood house that you had invested in six months after marrying tom, you hoped that you’d be able to see him help you calm your nerves before the storm. you looked in your tall mirror, admiring your outfit of a long, silk, champagne coloured dress with a v-cut down to rest right before your baby bump. your hands were placed on your growing stomach, a habit you picked up during your pregnancy, while you rubbed the fabric that covered your skin. you took deep breathes in and out while continuing to look at your image in the mirror. all you could think about was the little, beautiful angel soon to be welcomed into this world, and how much you couldn’t wait to meet them. interrupting your thoughts, you hear a quiet knock against the door of your walk-in closet, before it slid open to reveal tom who was in his dress pants and matching dress shirt that was buttoned up all the way, except for the last two, exposing his broad chest.
"is this like our wedding where i'm not allowed to see you before the event, or can i come in and see my beautiful wife." tom cheekily questioned, making the heat rise to your cheeks and you look down, still astonished at how after however many years of being married to tom, he never failed to put a smile on your face, and make you flustered.
"no, you can come in, goofball." you replied, turning around to face tom as he walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and turning you underneath his arms so you were facing the full-length mirror again.
"how are my two favourite girls in the entire world?" he mumbled against your cheek, placing a kiss on your delicate skin. his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, but because of your bump, his arms rested on top.
"they're nervous, especially mommy." you said as you sucked in a breath, anxiously. tom stood up straight and stepped in front of you, looking into your eyes with a concerning look on his face.
"what's wrong, my love? is there something wrong with the baby?" tom asked, now worried that someone had gone wrong.
"no, no, nothing like that- the baby's fine. m'sorry for scaring you." you reassured, rubbing tom's shoulders to relax him.
"then, what's wrong? i don't want you to be nervous." he asked bringing his hand up to rub his thumb against your cheek.
"i'm just worried about this," you said, tears brimming your eyes as you motioned down to your growing baby bump. "you know how judgemental everyone is, and it's been a while since my last event- and now that i'm pregnant, i'm worried they're going to say hurtful things about me." you said as your voice wavered, looking up at the ceiling to try and not let the tears spill from your eyes.
tom tuts his tongue and he frowns, "y/n, you are the most beautiful and breath-taking woman i have ever met in my entire life, and i am so grateful that it's you who's carrying my child." he says, looking at you and holding your sides, "that's our child in there, something we made- so don't let anyone tell you things about something that isn't theirs." he said, motioning to your belly that kept a space between you and him. "i know it's scary, because you don't want our daughter growing up in the public eye as soon as she's welcomed into the world, but i promise you not to worry, because being pregnant, and carrying our little monster in you for nine months- having to go through all the things you've gone through so far- that makes you so strong and powerful. all you deserve in life, and with this pregnancy, is to be serenaded and spoiled with love- and it's my job to do that." he said. by this point, tears were freely streaming down your face at tom's kind words, and you had linked your hands together with his.
"y/n, i love you, and you are beyond beautiful. so, please never be scared to show people the true beautiful side of you that i get to see every day of my life, for the rest of my life."
tags: @angelic-tom @blissfulparker @bi-lmg @beachwoodrry @cherrytholland @cherryxholland @evermoreholland @felicityparkers @gyllenhaalstories @hoodieofholland @honeyspidey @lmaotshollandd @londonspidey @mathletemadison @moonshineholland @multiholland @ptersmj @parkersholland @pparkersbitch @parkers-gal @rhapsodyparker @sunshinehollandd @sunsetholland @spidey-sophie @tomhollandd @veryholland @spideyspeaches @saturnpeter @whoreology @dummiesshort @amourtentiaa @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @marvelouspeterparker
please message me if you’d like me to stop tagging you!
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Pairings: Dark! Peter Parker x Reader, Dark!Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: We all make mistakes but you made the biggest one getting into that van.
Warning: Mention on Non-con, kidnapping, mention of blood and knife usage. Car accident and blood ritual (I tried to make it shortened and less detailed). Somewhat human sacrifice but not really.
A/N: will this be a series? Maybe. This is based on Jennifer’s body which is such a classic film. The title is based on the band from the film. This idea came to me after talking to @oneoftheprettynerds. The dividers are by @firefly-graphics.
You scraped the palm of your hands on the ground. Your knees scraped across the wet grass as you crawled into the street. You were heaving loudly as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You felt a tingling pain all along your right leg, you were hurting all over. All you wanted to do was to teleport away or have someone to help you.
The van behind you was stuck in a ditch. Broken glass along with blood that might have come from you or the others in the car. Bucky pushed his shoulder against the car door and pushed the car door open. He was angry now, Peter was still trying to cut the seatbelt off so he could get out of the damn car. Bucky could hear you crying as you tried to escape them.
You looked over your shoulder to see Bucky walking over the hump of land. His heavy boots made a heavy noise as he walked over to you. He looked down at you with a sneer, he moved his hand into his waistband. He pulled a silver switchblade out and slid the blade out. Your vision was starting to become blurry.
You were too focused on the blade that you didn’t notice that you were crying. “Fuck, you’re already bleeding. You are on thin fucking ice, Peter get your ass over here.” Peter was limping over to the two of you. The car crash barely did any real damage to them except you. “Look at you? She can’t lose too much blood or we won’t be able to perform the ritual.”
“Don’t you think I know that.” You turned your head away and started to crawl away but the pain in your leg started to grow. There was now a shooting pain in your leg and you could feel something wet against your skin. You had to get away, you couldn’t stay here you just couldn’t.
Bucky grabbed his shirt in between his two hands and he started to ripe the fabric apart. The ripping sound of the fabric made you flinch in fear. Bucky pulled the torn piece of shirt and moved toward you. He bent down and stuck his finger in your wound, “Bucky!” Peter reprimanded him by hitting his shoulder. “This is her fault, we wrecked the van. The twins are going to be pissed.”
“We will punish her later but right now you need to stop the bleeding.”
Bucky was scooping out the small bar. He counted the head of every woman that walked inside. Peter was tuning his guitar, his fingers strumming against the strings. His pink floral shirt was opened, there was a spider tattoo on his collarbone. A gold chain around his neck.
A cigarette was in between his pink lips. The black jeans he wore were distressed and hung low on his hips. The ashes from the cig flaked down on his hand. His brown hair was combed back with a single curl hanging in front of his face.
Bucky long hair got in his face as he bent over to check the amp. Bucky was a little bit more beefy than Peter was. The t-shirt he had on seemed to be like a second skin. Anyone could see his defining abs and his big pecs. His left arm was covered in tattoos to cover up the scars. Things like roses and a skull can covered his arm. He even had Steve’s name hidden in the petals. Something to remember his old pal by.
The other two band mates were talking to the owner of the club. The Maximoff twins were just like them except they didn’t share the same women. Bucky walked over to Peter, the sound of his heavy boots alerted Peter. “I haven’t found anyone our type yet or an exception for the ritual.”
You walked through the door with your best friend. The two of you intertwined your fingers together while y’all walked to the bar. You wore a shirt with the name of the band written over your chest. A mini skirt that made you self conscious to bend over. Ant, the bartender gave you two a nod before he started to make y’all usual drinks.
“You spoke too soon Buck,” Peter pointed in your direction. Bucky smiled as he let his eyes take you all in.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up we like this band?” You shrugged your shoulders as you dipped on your Long Island iced tea. “I mean Steve was killed in his own home… people have been speculating he tried to take advantage of the girl. She did it in self defense.”
“But she’s in jail, they wouldn’t just throw an innocent woman like that in jail.” Your friend shrugged her shoulders as she thought about it. You were very wrong indeed and karma would be coming to rear its ugly head your way.
The bar lights started to dim as the band got into place. Peter cleared his throat as he pulled the microphone closer to his lips. Bucky took his seat in front of the drums and picked up his sticks. The other two grabbed their instruments.
You picked up your drink and looked over to where everyone was gathered. Wanda strummed her guitar which made everyone stop talking, she strummed the strings again. Then Peter’s voice came through the microphone. He sounded like an Angel, it was so soft but hypnotizing. He closed his eyes as he let the words flow from his mouth.
Then his voice stopped for a moment and everyone held their breath in. Then the slow tapping of the drum grew louder. The strumming turned louder and he sang in the mic again. He opened his eyes and stared out into the packed crowd, a smirk creeping on his face.
The show ended with everyone clapping and cheering as loud as they could. The band was starting to pack their equipment when you dragged your friends over to the stage. Peter nudged his foot against Bucky when he heard your hello.
“I really enjoyed the show. You guys should be big right now.” Peter racked his hand through his hair. Then an easy smile formed on his face as he spoke to you, “This is successful enough to us. We get to travel around with our good friends.”
Bucky forced a smile on his face. He knew Peter was lying through his teeth. Your friend shifted on her feet when she noticed the creepy stare Bucky was giving you.
She didn’t like it and she wanted to leave now. “Y/n?” you turned to her and she leaned in closer to whisper in your ear. “Let’s go, they are giving me the heebie jeebies.” You put on a frown when you heard the last word of her sentence. But you were going to suck it up and be a good friend. “We should get going.” You said to the two men.
Peter turned to the twins, “Pack this up in the bus. We are going to need the van.” The twins nodded and finished packing up the instruments with the help of their roadie. Peter jumped off the stage with Bucky following him. “Why don’t you stay and she goes home?” You looked between your friend and them. You wanted to hangout with the two band members but you knew she would kill you.
“No, don’t do it.” Your friend pleaded with you to go home with her. She thought you would listen to her but she was surprised when you said, “I’ll see you back at the apartment.” She looked taken aback by your answer. “I thought you were smarter than this.” She stormed away from you, she didn’t even glance back at you.
“C’mon she’ll get over it. Let’s go.” And so you went with the two of them to their van. The van was painted black with some kind of demon on the side of the van. Your friend was standing by her car, she had hoped you had come to your senses. Bucky opened the van door for you to get in, the back of the van was spotless.
It was all clean, there was no dirty clothes or pizza boxes. You get into the van with the help of Peter pushing on your ass. You sat down on the hard ground with your knees pulled up. You looked at your friend and the two of you watched each other. The van door slowly closed until you were staring at the van door.
Bucky held you in his arms with Peter trailing behind. You could hear the sound of rushing water and you thought this was it. You were going to die for no reason, maybe you deserved it. In the back of your head you kept thinking about how your friend was right. Bucky put you down on the grass, he grabbed the fabric from around your thigh.
Peter stepped closer and bent down. He brushed your hair out of your face then his fingers trailing down your face. You flinched from his touch but he barely reacted to it. He grabbed the switchblade that Bucky had in his waistband.
He grabbed your hand and placed the blade against your palm. The blade cut into your skin which made you groan in pain. He dragged the blade across your skin and it felt like the sharp edge of glass was cutting into your skin.
Your hand started to bleed on the blade and started to drip down your arm. Peter placed your hand stretched above your head. So, that it was hanging off the cliff. Your blood dripped down into the water, “Plea-” It was useless to plead with them that’s why you shut your mouth. Bucky started to chant something that was in Latin, you cried harder as the chant got louder. Soon the chant was gone and it was silent.
You closed your eyes when you could hear the whooshing of big wings flapping in the wind. That was the last thing you heard before falling asleep. You dreamed of the night you had but it was a different scene playing out. Instead of going with the two men you went with your best friend.
And you ended the dream saying thank you before falling asleep in your bed. You thought that you may have been dead. You thought you had wasted life for nothing….. Then you felt a damp rag pressing against your bare thigh.
You slowly opened your eyes but it took awhile because of the bright lights. You thought that someone had found you in the woods and you were back with your friend.
That was when you opened your eyes up fully to see Peter tending to your wounds. Bucky opened the bathroom door with a pink towel wrapped around his waist. His wet hair dripped wet with water. The steam from his shower escaped into the bedroom that you were in. He looked over to you and gave you a smirk.
“I-- i want to go home.” Your voice was raspy and your mouth was dry. You don’t even know who you were talking to. “You are home. You ain’t going anywhere. And it’s been awhile since me and Peter had a plaything of our own.”
“I want to go home!” You screamed at him but he only laughed as he slowly removed his towel. “You think I care what you want? Because I don’t.” You looked away from him and stared at Peter. You thought you could reason with him at least.
“We can’t let you go. What if you tell on us.” Bucky’s voice was harsh. You realized Peter was only in his boxers, he was on the same agenda as Bucky. You could see the visible bulge, He finished with putting the bandage on your thigh and hand.
“You can’t do those weird positions you always do. I don’t want her stitches to open up.” They were talking like you weren’t even here. As if you were some lifeless doll. You tried to move your body as Bucky got on the bed, the bed dipping from his weight.
You tried to move your legs but you felt rooted to the bed. “Peter numbed your legs and arms. The effects must be kicking in now, at least you will still be able to feel us.”
The two of them laughed when you formed a frown on your face and you tried to move your legs again. “This is going to be your life for now on. Your only fulfilment in life now is to please both of us.”
The boys were going to become even more famous. Their band was going to become a nationwide sensation. All thanks to the little ritual they used you for last night. And now they had someone to come home to everyday. Life was turning into a dream while yours turned into a nightmare.
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Natasha: Let’s get proof. Step one: put a delicious pie in the fridge and cover it in poison.
Y/N: That’s step one?! What’s step two?
Natasha: Tell their widows they are thieves.
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Peter: I can’t go outside. I’m allergic to pollen and social situations.
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Pairing; Peter Parker x Female!Reader
Summary; You and your boyfriend play Animal Crossing wherever you are.
Word Count; 372
Authors Note; a week ago I reset my island to start fresh again and I haven’t stopped playing since! So I thought a cute and short fic about Animal Crossing could be a good start to test the waters in writing for Peter for the first time! (Peter is 18+ in this) Hope you enjoy <3
Main Masterlist || Peter Parker Masterlist
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Credit @ anakinskywalkers for the wonderful gif
Ever since you and Peter bought a pair of matching Nintendo Switch Lite each, you had been obsessed with playing Animal Crossing together. It would become a regular thing to catch the two of you playing together wherever you were. At school, at the library, or when you would go for a hangout together in the local park.
No matter where you were, your noses would be buried deep in a screen each as you catch bugs and fish, water flowers, pay Mr. Tom “Greedy” Nook ridiculous fees, had cute picnic dates, and helped each other to decorate both islands to perfection.
You would most of the time sit on his lap as he had his arms around you to make it easier to have an overview of both screens. The two of you in your little Animal Crossing world as the world around you became a blur and unimportant.
One of your favorite places to hang out and play would be high up on a building as you dangle your feet over the edge together, cozying up together shoulder against shoulder. At the same time, you had the most beautiful view of the busy city below.
Even on a school night, you and he would be up playing together for hours until the early light in the morning.
There was a light knock on your bedroom window, and you immediately knew that it was your boyfriend that had come over to play some Animal Crossing with you as planned. It was the dead of night, and your parents were sleeping just down the hall.
“Did you bring the goodies?” You whispered as low as possible when you had opened the window to let him in.
“All of our favorites,” he answered in the same tone while he held up the bag of drinks and snacks that would be consumed by the two of you in a heartbeat.
You were snuggled up together on your bed, the twinkling lights in your room creating a cozy atmosphere. The snacks and drinks are long gone by now. You would both steal a few kisses here and there as you were having fun and enjoying each other's company both in the real and fictional world.
Credit @ firefly-graphics for the wonderful divider
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hey darling could you maaaaybe do 11. “I used to be ticklish when I was little, but I think I’ve outgrown– shihit!!” with a peter parker and reader? we all know my love for peter is strong-
hey princess, of course i can! anything for you! <3
THIS IS A TICKLE FIC
pairing: Peter Parker x best friend!reader
warnings: fluff and tickles and a bit of threatening
words count: 834
prompt: I used to be ticklish when I was younger, but I think I‘ve outgrown- shihit!
summary: while peter and you played mario cart, he wanted to distract you so he would win, and he won twice, the race and a tickle fight.
Peter and you, you both were really good and close friends. there's no secret unspoken between you and him, it's kind of scary how much you guys know about each other. well, not anything, but the most important things.
right now, you guys played mario cart, and you were the best known champion around the avengers, there's no race you didn't win the last times! expect you let them win...
"Y/N! play fair!" peter said while he struggled with overtaking you. you laughed evilly and threw a red shell at him. playing mario cart was always fun! you guys had bets, everytime, and everytime you won them!
"i'm playing fair! you just play bad!" you teased whereupon he gasped.
"you did not say that, did you?"
"oh i did say that!"
and after that, you felt a poke in your side, making you jolt away a bit. you just hoped he wouldn't have noticed, but he did...
"Y/N... are you ticklish?" he asked with a grin playing on his lips. your stomached dropped, that was the only thing he didn't know about you yet-
you shook your head. "I used to be ticklish when I was younger, but I think I've outgrown- shihit!" you felt peter's finger fluttering into your right side, he still played the game, but not that fair.
"not ticklish? i see." he teased and kept on going. you squirmed away, hoping he would end his torture soon.
"peheheter! fahahair!" you whined and tried to focus on the game, but peter really did what he wanted to, he wanted to distract and annoy you.
"i'm playing fair, you just play bad!" he mocked and overtook you. As he passed the finish line, you thought he would let go off you, but no, he threw his controller on the bed and straddled you down on it. your lips escaped a little surprised scream and you stared at him in fear.
“you won! it‘s okay you won! you don’t have to do this!“ you pleaded while a smirk glanced down at you, causing makes your cheeks heat up.
“don’t have to do what?“ he asked you and tilted his head.
“tickle me!“ you shouted immediately, not realizing what you‘ve just said.
“since you asked so nicely...“
“wait- whAHAHAT?!“ His finger drilled into your sides, letting a tickly sensation runs throughout veins and giggles flew out of your mouth. you haven‘t been tickled in a while, and no one knew, but after that you wouldn’t be safe anymore.
“why didn’t you tell me about that earlier? you‘re incredibly ticklish!“ he smiled and drilled his fingers a bit more into your sides, whereupon you arched your back a bit.
“behehecause ihiht’s embaharrissing!“ you giggled and tried to get rid of him, but that just made him digging into your ribs.
“i just started and i already can tell that there’s nothing embarrassing about it!“ he smiles and kept digging in.
“peheheter! plehehease stop!“ you begged, hoping he would have mercy, but of course he has not. his fingers moved all over your upper body, driving you and your giggles crazy as you squirmed underneath his weight.
“wow, does the others know about that weakness?” he asked and moved your shirt up a bit. you blushes deep red at his movement and pulled your shirt back down.
“noho they don’t and they also shouldn’t know about this!” you said, clawing into the fabric of your shirt. he smirked and hold both of your wrists in his hand and moved your shirt back up with his nose which also lightly touched your tummy.
“oh but especially mr barnes would love this information about you!” he smirked and blew a slobbery raspberry on your tummy. you laughed hysterically and squirmed from side to side as he set another raspberry right over your navel.
“PEHEHETER STAHAP!” you begged in laughter, but he still doesn’t stopped.
“it’s crazy how you react while i do this!” and again, he blew another raspberry on your tummy and you slowly went silent. he smiled at you and knew he had to stop before he would take it too far. he let you go and smiled at you, still being a giggly mess.
“i’m gunna tell them! that’s so cute!” he teased.
“NO YOU DON’T! PLEASE DON’T I’LL DO ANYTHING!”
“do my homework” he quickly said to which you groan in annoyance.
“you said anything!” he chuckled.
“yeah alright, what subject?” you asked him, thinking he would mean only one subject.
“all of them.”
“i’ll tell them!” he threatened and smiled.
you smiled angrily at him and sat up, heading to his bag pack and getting out his homework. you would stay up all night because he really does nothing for school!
“and don’t write any bullshit! write the correct answers! otherwise i will tickle you in front of them!” he threatened again. he knows now how to put you under pressure, and he would totally use it to his advantage.
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Alright y’all I’m pretty new to AO3. Like I’ve been on and off of it for a couple months now, but I just now found the bookmark feature and it’s literally my new favorite thing. I can’t stop bookmarking things, it’s becoming a problem.
If y’all have any fanfic recommendations, please send them my way!! I’m going on a bookmarking spree.
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canoodling: fem stark! reader; early morning cuddles with your favorite spider boy and a message from your meddling dad
hands: gn avenger! reader; a completely self indulgent fic about peter’s hands
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Bucky Barnes and Reader | ?Avenger and Reader
SUMMARY: Your daily routine involves waking up in the morning, going to work and sulking at night. But then you meet the man you’ve fantasized about for your entire life, Bucky Barnes. At the same time, you've caught someone else’s eye and his first step in winning you over is to cook you breakfast. But will you be welcoming of that person’s affections?
WARNING: yandere, obsession, stalking, violence, cursing, mention of anesthesia and other medical stuff. If you find any of this triggering, please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.
WORD COUNT: 3.8k
This is not beta read, so mistakes are my own. Don’t worry this chapter has a lottt of fluff...!
Bucky paced impatiently in your hospital room. It was his fault and he couldn’t stop blaming himself. He had done many misdeeds, but this was something he couldn’t forgive himself for.
He shouldn’t have prevented Peter from visiting you. In the end peter had become so desperate he hadn’t thought about anything but you. Peter’s behavior was like a spring, the more you push back, the more it comes forward. And he should’ve realized this sooner.
He didn’t know what Peter had exactly done. He was sure he must not have directly hurt you. But what he did to get you here, he didn’t know.
It was pretty late in the night when Tony had informed them all that you had fallen from your stairs and had been admitted in the Med Bay. The others didn’t know you as well as him, he had seen how well you knew your house to walk from in stairs even in the dark.
Also, the fact that it was Tony who had informed them all about your fall and that you had been admitted in the med bay, not some hospital, turned Bucky’s suspicion into belief. But the avengers didn’t pay much attention to these details. The others were either too worried or ignorant to question how you came here, but Bucky wasn’t.
Peter wasn’t to be seen anywhere after they had come back and Bucky could bet his entire bank account on where he would’ve gone. Just that he didn’t expect you to be unconscious with a broken arm and admitted to the med bay after his visit.
When Bucky had asked Tony about how you came here, he had simply diverted the topic and didn’t answer the question. You had a large gash on your forehead, a split lip, sprained ankle, a fractured left arm and you still hadn’t gained consciousness.
Gladly Peter hadn’t come to check on you, neither had he been there with the rest when they had all come to see. It was for Peter’s best, Bucky thought, because if he saw that boy again, he would definitely smash his head.
While the others had left, Bucky had decided to stay in your room looking after you. Nobody had objected to that. He didn’t understand it back then, but later comprehended that everyone, literally everyone knew how he felt about you. When he had first seen you, he had clenched and unclenched his metal arm and jaw while Steve had rubbed his hand reassuringly on his back. Only if Steve knew, he thought.
Before he could chastise himself more, he saw you staring at him. He had been fuming the entire time and had failed to notice that you were awake. He couldn’t have felt more useless as he literally couldn’t do the only job he had, to look after you.
You had a dopey smile on your face and your eyes were glassy. He was pretty sure you were still under the effects of the anesthesia. Your face was relaxed and calm. You were high as a kite at the moment.
But the most amazing part about you was the look in your eyes. It made his breath hitch and heart hammer. It was a look of pure adoration and devotion which he hadn’t ever seen in anyone’s eyes for him.
He had seen it in countless other people’s eyes who looked at their lovers but he didn’t think he deserved the look himself, but here he was. He couldn’t help but smile back at you, his cheeks aflame with blush.
“Hi.” He said sheepishly. “Hey Buckyyy.” You squealed with excitement and giggled. By now Bucky was sure he too was making heart eyes at you. This memory was going to be imprinted in his head forever, even if hydra somehow came back and wiped away everything else from his memory, he still wouldn’t forget your eyes.
“Are you... are you real?” You asked him looking through your eyelashes. He didn’t know if this was a dream, and even if it was, he didn’t want to wake up from it. “Yes. I very much am real.” Bucky said nodding.
You hummed along and pouted, “s’ nice to see you in color.” You blabbered. He furrowed his brows in confusion, “Huh?”
“The video in sss... smithsssss.” You lost the sentence to a train of slurred s. “Smithsonian?” Bucky asked joining the dots. You chortled and nodded. “What about that video?” Bucky was very curious now.
“You look very handsome, in fact you... you look... you...” you again didn’t complete the sentence and started laughing. You wanted to tell a joke but apparently it was so funny you couldn’t even get it out without laughing.
Bucky laughed along with you. He had never seen you so laid back. You had always been either utterly professional or scared whenever he had seen you. But seeing you now, he realized that you indeed liked him.
“You look so sssexxy in your tik tak gear... I wanna kissss you.” Bucky’s eyes widened and he gulped. Did you just say that? Or did he imagine it? Was any of this even real or just some fever dream he was having?
He now understood that there was a reason why you didn’t drink much or didn’t drink at all at any of the parties. You apparently lost all your filters, not that he was complaining.
Never in his wildest dream did he think you would find him attractive in his tactical gear, or should he say tik tak gear from now on? He chuckled at that thought. “I...” you began again.
“Shhh...” Bucky cooed softly and walked much closer to your bed than he was before. He placed his flesh hand on your head and started softly stroking your hair. “Shhh. Go back to sleep.” He objected before you said something that would give him a stroke on the spot. He was a super soldier, agreed, but he could only take this much per day.
“Nooo.” You pouted like a little girl who was denied candy. “I wanna talk.” You said adamantly. “We will talk when you wake up.” Before he could protest, you curled up against his arm and held surprisingly tight.
“Prromisss?” You asked in such low voice that if it weren’t for his super hearing, he wouldn’t have had heard it. “Promise.” Just as he said it, you swiftly slipped back into a dreamless sleep while being wrapped around his arm.
He was sure you might not remember this. But he would. He would keep this memory deep in his heart and won’t ever let go.
What Bucky didn’t know was that Steve was watching everything from the clear glass of the door. He had come to ask if Bucky wanted some reprieve but instead he saw his friend laughing and chatting with you.
Steve was sure he hadn’t ever seen his friend so happy ever before. Steve had tears in his eyes, his friend deserved all the happiness in the world and he gladly was getting it. He was happy his friend was starting to let go of the past and move towards the future. He was so proud of Bucky, of the man he had become despite everything.
“Peter what the hell did you do?” Tony shouted banging the table in his frustration. “I... I didn’t do anything. She actually fell down the stairs. I swear, you know I wouldn’t ever hurt her.”
Peter had seen you running and had come out from under the bed only to see you slipping down the stairs. He had reached for you as you lost consciousness. He was the one who got you urgently to the tower.
Tony clenched his jaw, “Listen kid, this is the last time you went there. You are not going in her house anymore, neither are you ever going to follow her. This is my last warning. And if I see you continuing this shit, you’ll have to face me.” Tony warned sternly.
“But...” Peter was now openly crying. “No ifs and buts. If you trouble her even once more, I’ll remove you from the team. Is that understood?”
Peter audibly gulped and nodded. He loved you, but he loved his job too. He couldn’t bear getting fired from the team. Maybe, just maybe Bucky was right. He should actually approach you rather than hiding.
Bucky was staring at your blissfully calm face with your eyelashes resting on your cheeks and your breathing even. You were lightly snoring and heavily drooling but he didn’t care. You were indeed the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
He had tried slowly prying his hand away so as to reduce your embarrassment when you woke up, but you had clutched on even more tightly. Even despite his hand being bent at a really odd angle, he was more than happy to be sitting there.
This was the first time he was this close to you without you freaking out. But his gut was telling that this wasn’t the last time.
He cleared his throat as he realized that he was thirsty. As he had kept staring at your face, he had no idea how much time had passed. Just then as if someone was reading his mind, the door opened and a woman walked in.
The woman was walking alongside Tony and they were in an animated conversation. Bucky had seen her somewhere. As he thought, he remembered seeing her in the photo frame on your office desk. She was in standing beside you on a sunny day and that moment was captured in a photo. It was the only personal memento you had in your office. She must be your mom he concluded.
When she saw you, tears collected in her eyes. Tony pressed his hand on her shoulder reassuring her. He had called her and informed of the situation. You mom wanted to visit you and he had arranged that too. No matter what happened, Tony still did blame himself.
Only if he had stopped Peter earlier. But it wasn’t too late, or rather he just hoped it wasn’t too late. He had told your mother that you would be absolutely fine and these injuries were temporary. But being your mother, her heart ached after seeing you.
Bucky saw as your moms' eyes went from you, to his hand to his face and he froze. This was inappropriate, he shouldn’t be with you, not like this, not with you curled up against his arm.
He knew your mom was going to get pissed. He was well aware of his reputation. He was the winter soldier, the deadliest assassin. He was known for bloodshed and death, not for warmth and comfort.
Seeing Bucky and you, Tony’s eyes widened and Bucky noticed it. “I’m... I’m sorry...” he said as he carefully slipped his hand away from you as you whimpered at the loss of contact. He looked down to the floor, incapable of looking in their eyes.
“Oh my god!” Your mom exclaimed. Bucky looked up only to see a warm smile grace her lips. She wasn’t upset with him, that he was sure of. He didn’t know why, but she looked happy.
“How long have you?” Your mom asked moving her eyes between Bucky and you as she came closer to the bed. She sat on the stool once occupied by Bucky and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. She took one long look at you and turned back to Bucky.
Bucky was going to die today or maybe he had already died and was in heaven or he probably was in some kind of simulation. This couldn’t be happening. Your mom couldn’t possibly think that you and Bucky were together and would be happy with that. He was a bad guy, right?
Your mom raised her eyebrows at Bucky expecting an answer. Bucky decided this was his chance. “I’ve been here since last night.” He said shrugging. He was impressed with his own answer. It was vague, it neither denied nor confirmed anything.
Your mom laughed through the tears, “Oh, I see. You are a funny one, though I didn’t expect that...” your mom trailed off unsure of what to call him, James? Bucky? Mr. Barnes? Jamie?
“Bucky.” She nodded and gave her own name. “Now I know why my daughter just doesn’t stop talking about you. Nice to meet you Bucky.”
Yup, this was a dream, Bucky was hundred percent sure. You talked about him to your mom? He was an idiot, that was for sure. Why didn’t he realize it any sooner? “Nice to meet you too.”
What people didn’t know was that, while you were introverted, your mom was very social. Unlike you, she could make friends with anyone, now even the winter soldier. And this difference was probably what made your bond even strong.
Your mom couldn’t believe it. You had actually gotten together with your childhood crush. You always considered that she didn’t know about Bucky. But she did. She knew why you frequented Smithsonian so much as a teenager, she also knew of the small photo you had kept of him in your history textbook.
You woke up to the sound of hushed talking. You cracked your eyes open to see the most absurd and unbelievable sight in this entire world, your mom and Bucky talking with pleasant smiles plastered on their face.
“Look who’s awake.” Your mom said taking your hand. “How are you.” She called you by your pet name and you wanted nothing more than to embrace her. But instead of you decided to have some fun.
“Where am I? Who... who are you?” You asked holding your head with your right hand as if it was hurting. Your mom gasped as she and Bucky looked at each other. You heard a ‘oh my god’ from the other side and that’s when you noticed Tony.
Your mom’s eyes watered and you realized it was a bad joke. “Hey. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, mom. I was joking. I always wanted to prank you if I ever got admitted in a hospital, but it was idiotic of me. I’m sorry.” This escalated much more than you thought.
Your mom wiped her tears and held your lovingly. “It’s okay. After all you’ve woken up after three years. I’m glad...” you stopped hearing after that. Three... Three years? You lost three years?
“I...” looking at the shock on your face, all three of them started laughing. “You really are the perfect mom and daughter pair.” Tony said laughing loudly. Honestly, this was unexpected by him too, but it was absolutely funny.
“Mom!” You exclaimed swatting her hand and smiling yourself. “What? You thought only you’ve been waiting to crack this joke.” You perceived that you both were much too similar than you realized.
“How are you?” You mom asked again seriously. “I’m fine.” You looked at Bucky only to see him giving you a look you couldn’t comprehend. Also, what was he doing here?
“What happened?” Tony urged. He wanted to know the truth. You didn’t know why, but Bucky scoffed at the question. The question brought back all the memories. How there was someone under your bed and then your run and your fall.
“I fell down the stairs.” You replied truthfully. “You can tell us anything, you know right?” Tony reaffirmed. You simply nodded, you couldn’t ask for a better boss, though according to Tony it was the other way around.
“Wait, who got me here?” You asked as you looked around. This advanced technology and equipment weren’t available in any hospital but the med bay of the Avengers Tower. How did you end up here? You should probably still be lying in your own house, in your own blood, but no. That means whoever it was, brought you here.
Tony sighed and gave a pained smile, “Don't worry about all that. You can have as many days off as you want, all paid. Take care of yourself Boss.” With that Tony took off. You found it very odd that he didn’t answer your question. You looked at Bucky who simply shrugged his shoulders.
You then realized your mouth was wet with your saliva and wiped it off with the back of your hand. Your suddenly snapped to Bucky, he saw you drooling... James Bucky Barnes saw you drooling! You wanted the earth to swallow you whole. Whatever one percent chance you had with him was all gone now.
“Where’s pancake?” You asked suddenly panicked. “You want pancakes?” Your mom asked. You bit your tongue; you hadn’t still told your mom about pancake. You didn’t know what to tell her back then, he just landed in my house, no, that seemed weird and thus you’d never told her.
“No. It’s her dog.” Bucky said smirking. “Oh my young lady. You’ve been hiding so many things from me.” You mom pretended to be angry. “I was gonna tell you. I just recently got him.” Before your mom could ask further questions, Bucky interrupted, “He is probably still at your place.”
“Oh no! What if he falls? He is still too small to come down stairs by himself. He...” Your mom took your hand and rubbed it. “Calm down. We’ll get him. Don’t worry.” Bucky said.
Bucky was glad you didn’t remember anything of your previous conversation. He was sure you wouldn’t take it lightly. If you knew, he was sure you’d stop talking to him.
You smiled as you looked up at Bucky and for the first time you saw him smile back at you. Only in your dreams had you imagined that. As your mom saw your eyes lock with Bucky, she knew you two were meant for each other.
Today you were finally getting a discharge. After being in the hospital or rather the Avengers tower for three days now, you were finally going home. Though the place was very comfortable and more technologically advanced than any other place, it wasn’t your home.
Even though your hand was wrapped in a cast and a bandage was posted on your head, you were excited and euphoric at the aspect of seeing your home again and finally sleeping on your comfortable bed.
In the three days while you were recovering, your mother had made the avengers her fans. Now she wasn’t your mom, you were her daughter.
And over the course of just three days, your mom had somehow managed to turn Bucky from an introvert to a talkative guy. To others he still was closed off, but whenever he came into your room, he chit chatted with you both constantly.
You were suspicious but not sure that Bucky was somehow pretending to be your boyfriend. For the past three days he had barely left the room. From constantly asking about your health to being there for your every beck and call.
In the past few days, you both had got to know so much about each other that you were sure no other soul in this world knew that much about either of you. Somehow, you were glad that you had ended up here.
As you got ready to leave, Bucky walked in with a bouquet of flowers. In the last two days, Bucky had started getting you flowers. The first day you were dumbstruck and shocked, you hadn’t considered Bucky to be so caring and considerate.
And at the same time, you had cried. No one, literally no one had ever gotten you flowers except for probably congratulating you for your achievements. All your life beneath the tough exterior, you wanted someone to get you flowers and take you to stupid carnivals.
At the first time, Bucky chose pink carnations. He had read somewhere that every flower symbolizes something. He wanted to convey the message of love and yet not be very straightforward like with red roses.
So he chose pink carnations, they expressed blooming love and yet at the same time they weren’t very outspoken. The next day he showed up with camellia. And now he had brought hydrangea symbolizing love. He just hoped you understood his underlying meaning.
Seeing Bucky walk with a bouquet of hydrangea, your face lit up. The flowers were delicate and gorgeous. “How are you doing?” Bucky desperately wanted to call you by a nick name, something along the lines of doll had almost slipped through his mouth one or twice but he had stopped himself from saying anything further.
He knew he was walking on thin ice. Though now you both were very much comfortable around each other, there was no clear indication that you would appreciate him calling you nick names.
“I’m much better. Thank you for the flowers Bucky. That’s so sweet of you.” You said gently taking the flowers and admiring them. “Marry him!” Your mother loudly proclaimed as she walked in besides you.
You audibly gasped while Bucky gave you a sly smile. You turned around and gave your mother a questioning look. “They don’t make them like this anymore.” Your mother said patting Bucky.
You were going to apologize to Bucky but before that he began, “I always ready!” Bucky said smirking and you thought you were going to get a cardiac arrest. Did he just...?
You raised your eyebrows and opened your mouth to protest but no sound came through and you closed it again, only to repeat this process at least twice. You shook your head and blinked rapidly. If he was playing this game, you weren’t going to back down. “Let’s decide the dates.”
You winked at Bucky as his jaw dropped while your mother beamed at you. You didn’t know what this was, whether it was actually the reality or whether you still were unconscious and in a dreamland. But whatever it was, you were liking it.
Your mom cleared her throat as she woke up from her sleep. Her throat was dry and she needed water. Getting up from the bed, she exited your guest room where she was staying for a few more days.
She didn’t care to switch on the light as she walked towards the kitchen in her sleepy haze. But she stopped in her tracks when she saw a figure looming in the kitchen. Terrified at first, she soon guessed who it might be,
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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."
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."
"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."
"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?"
"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."
"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.
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."
"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.
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.
"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."
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."
"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
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I just finished the 3rd chapter of my wattpad book 'Marvel/DC: Best Duos Meet' you can click on the link and read the whole thing above, but here's a little sneakpeak from the Marvel universe:
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tom holland x reader
you are fasting for whatever reason. tom is waiting for your period to come so you can be excused.
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