#spider man drabble
the thing about skip westcott was that there was a dozen of him. he was everywhere.
skip was the man standing on the corner of 35th and 6th, jeans in tatters and shoulders leaning against the side of the building in a lazy sprawl. his fingers were near his mouth, and it was just a cigarette, but for a minute peter thought it was that sucker that skip used to trap behind his disgusting lips. and when the man leered, eyes flicking up and down in what seemed to be a practiced move— and god peter hated that, the fact that it was a practiced move— peter balked for a second, the man’s hazy high eyes turning into skip’s rough gaze pinning peter to what used to be his favourite bunk bed as easily as the strength in his forearms belied. but the man wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at felicia, and felicia didn’t give him a second glance as she strode on forward, while peter hurried to catch up.
skip was the employee scooping ice cream behind a glass shield, a glass shield that peter knew he could break with one flick of his fingers, so it didn’t feel particularly safe. johnny had asked for their best flavours, because of course he had, and peter was sure he wasn’t imagining the worker’s drawl when he flipped the ice cream scooper in his hand with practiced ease, casually telling them that the cherry flavour’s not bad, it’s my personal favourite. and peter suddenly fought the urge to go to the bathroom, slam the door shut with every ounce of his strength and vomit because the worker’s face was suddenly shifting, changing into skip’s as he sucked that stupid cherry sucker, then made peter lick the taste of cherry out of his mouth no matter how hard peter struggled. then peter blinked, and the worker was just smiling kindly at them, asking them which flavors they wanted. johnny got a chocolate sundae, and peter got lime.
skip was the haggard looking father in the corner store, a small child on his hip and a slightly larger one tugging on his hand. there were dark marks under his eyes, ones that peter knew were mirrored in his own, and he felt a pang of sympathy for the man. but then, he glanced around quickly, ensuring that no one except peter was looking, and grabbed a back of sliced bread, lightning fast. he stuffed it under his oversized coat, hiding the lump behind his kid. he looked up at peter and hoarsely said, let’s keep this between me and you, eh? and suddenly he wasn’t a tired, hungry man in a shop, but a gangly yet menacing teenager, ruffling peter’s hair with hands much gentler than they were thirty minutes ago, getting ready to leave since may and ben should be back soon. peter was huddled up on the sofa, blankets piled up until only his face was visible, and he couldn’t do anything but numbly nod in fear when skip shot him a wink and told it to keep it to himself, or else. then, one of the children let out a cry, and the man was himself again, his kid’s shoulder soothingly. peter gave the man a quiet smile, then let him slip out the door unnoticed.
it’s not him, peter reminded himself, over and over and over again. it’s not him.
would you like a side of trauma with your angst?
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What’s in the Box, Peter?
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: fluff, mentions of pregnancy
Note: Happy Mother’s Day to all the baby mommas, the fur mommas, the plant mommas, and all the momma’s in between!
Ever since you started dating Peter during your freshman year of college, you always spent Mother’s Day with him and May.
Of course, you always had the customary FaceTime call with your own mother but with the prices of plane tickets constantly increasing, going home to spend the day with your family just wasn’t possible when all your money went towards rent and school expenses.
So spending the day with Peter and May became tradition, and quite frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
May Parker had practically inducted you into the family after only a few months of dating her nephew, and she was the very definition of what you thought motherhood was all about. She was understanding whenever Peter found himself in trouble - whether it be as Peter Parker or his masked superhero alter ego - and she was always willing to lend an ear whenever you or Peter needed to rant about something (even if it was about each other). She worried about Peter - of course she did - but she let him have his space to make his own mistakes and learn from them.
She may not have been Peter’s actual mother, but damn did that woman deserve the best Mother’s Day that you and Peter could muster.
You’d stayed at May’s apartment the night before rather than at yours and Peter’s apartment on the other side of the city to save yourself the commute in the morning, and you were infinitely glad that you’d done so. An extra hour of sleep was definitely worth you and Peter squeezing into the small bed in his old bedroom.
Peter still woke up early, though.
He always did, unable to really sleep in the days leading up to Mother’s Day. He grew restless and quiet, and you didn’t need to ask to know why.
He pressed his lips to your cheek before he left for his visit to his mother’s grave that morning, his jacket tugged on to protect himself from the early morning chill and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He whispered a promise of coffee when he returned, and your appreciation for him doubled in an instant.
By the time he returned, you were busy making pancakes and humming along to the song on the radio while May tittered around the kitchen despite your insistence that she let you take care of making breakfast.
It was her day, after all.
“Good morning,” Peter greeted, pressing a styrofoam cup into your hand. He pressed his lips to your temple before greeting May with a hug and wishing her a happy Mother’s Day. He set a small, wrapped box down on the counter, making you cock your head in curiosity.
“What’s that?” you asked, pointing at the box in question with the spatula. You were sure that you had already gotten May a Mother’s Day gift. In fact, you had wrapped her gift yourself the night before. Had you forgotten something?
“Just a Mother’s Day gift,” he replied vaguely, a smile curling his lips. “You’ll see after breakfast.”
Your gaze kept flitting back to that mysterious little box as you finished stacking pancakes onto a large plate, as you filled three glasses of juice and set the table, and as you and Peter caught May up on all of things that you had accomplished over the course of the last semester. You were just barely managing to contain your curiosity enough to actively keep up the conversation and not be rude, and Peter wasn’t helping any.
The way that he seemed extra fidgety and the way that his gaze kept flitting to you more than usual while he talked to May about his plans once you were both finally done with grad school had you wondering if you did something wrong or even worse- if he was planning something that you didn’t know about.
Oh, God. Was he going to propose?
Outwardly, you were smiling brightly and nodding in agreement to what Peter was saying about your plans for the summer, but inwardly, you were panicking.
You loved Peter, you really did, and you’d be happy to marry him. Just not now. You’d had the discussion about marriage over a year ago, knowing that you both wanted it at some point, but you and he had both agreed that marriage was off the table until you were both done with school. You both had at least one year of grad school left, and that was only if you - ever the academic - decided to not continue your education with further certification. A proposal was at least a year away, so long as Peter adhered to the agreement you had made nearly two years ago.
You cleared the table with lightning speed once everyone had finished with their breakfast, wanting nothing more than to know what Peter was hiding. You retrieved May’s gift from Peter’s bedroom and placed it in front of her while Peter held onto the small mystery box, his fingers flexing and unflexing nervously.
Jesus Christ, you were about to implode from impatience and anxiety and-
“This is so cute!” May exclaimed, holding up the small succulent in a pot shaped like a dinosaur. “Did you find this at that shop on 47th?”
“I think so?” Peter looked to you for confirmation, but you only shrugged in response. “Y/N picked out most of the stuff in there. She has a better eye for things than I do.”
“Peter did pick out the wine, though,” you pointed out, nodding towards the fancy bottle of white wine that had cost more than your electrical bill last month. “I will, however, take credit for the plant and the memory foam slippers.”
You shared a small smile with Peter as May looked over her gifts happily. “This is so sweet. Thank you.” She leaned across the table and pulled your both into as tight a hug as she could manage with a table in the way.
“Happy Mother’s Day, May,” Peter told her, and the few happy tears she swiftly brushed away with her thumbs didn’t escape your attention.
“Happy Mother’s Day, May,” you repeated, feeling so incredibly grateful to have May in your life. “You literally deserve the best Mother’s Day for putting up with this guy for most of his life.” You gently nudged Peter in the side with your elbow as you teased, chuckling as he rolled his eyes at you while struggling to fight back an amused smile.
“Whatever,” he scoffed, and it only made you and May laugh harder. “You both love me.”
And suddenly your laughter died as your attention was dragged back to that mysterious little box, now pushed in front of you by Peter. “What’s this?”
“It’s for you,” he answered as if it wasn’t already blatantly obvious.
“I get that, but why?” You observed the small gift nervously. “It’s Mother’s Day, Pete, and I’m very much not a mother. Not unless you count being a plant mother. You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“What?” His face twisted in confusion, brows knit together and lips slightly parted. “You don’t know? I thought you knew.”
What the hell? Your brows knit together as you looked from Peter to May, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “Know what? I think I would know if I was a mom, Peter.” You let out a breath and started to pull at the wrapping paper. “I mean, thank you for the gift, but this was really unneces-” Your words died on the tip of your tongue as you saw what was tucked neatly into the small box.
You lifted the mug from the box, staring at the words written across the front in pretty pink script.
‘Happy (Expectant) Mother’s Day’
You blinked, too confused to speak.
“I thought you said she knew,” you heard May whisper to Peter.
“I thought she did!” your boyfriend whispered in return. “I thought she was waiting for today to tell me!”
You finally snapped out of your trance, placing the mug down on the table and turning to Peter. “Can you please explain what’s happening?”
After a beat of silence, he answered, “You’re pregnant.”
You snorted in disbelief. “I think I’d know if I was pregnant, Peter.” You took a second to mentally count the days, and your heart began to beat erratically once you realized you had been so busy with final papers and projects to remember when your last period had been. Well, shit.
“You are,” he said confidently. He draped an arm around the back of your chair before taking your hand in his. “Some nights, when it’s really quiet, I can hear the baby’s heartbeat. Scared the hell out of me when I first heard it.” Instinctively, your hands dropped to your stomach, cradling it tenderly. Leave it to your boyfriend to find out you were pregnant before you did thanks to his hyper-senses. “I thought you knew and you were planning to tell me today, you know, because it’s Mother’s Day.” He scratched the back of his neck and laughed nervously, his gaze flitting to May before he met your eyes again. “I, uh, realize now that you didn’t know.”
“We’re gonna have a baby?” He nodded, lips curling into a smile. “I’m gonna be a mom?” Another nod. “I thought you were gonna propose! I was so nervous!”
“I mean, I can still do that if you want,” he offered, a mischievous twinkle in his chocolate eyes.
“No!” you exclaimed. “I think one big life change is enough for today.”
You shared a soft, sweet kiss with Peter before turning your attention back to the mug on the table. Your fingers curled around it, holding it gently in your hands as you stared at the words again and a smile tugged at your lips.
A gentle hand on yours called your attention away from the mug and to May. The older woman was smiling widely at you and her nephew, i she’d tears glittering in her eyes. “Happy Mother’s Day, Y/N.”
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Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Warnings: language, plenty of angst
Peter found you on a random rooftop in Queens, your knees drawn up to your chest as you sat in front of one of the many murals of Iron Man that painted the city following the victory over Thanos.
You knew he was there before he even said anything.
Despite the sounds of the city below, you heard his gentle landing behind you, heard his light footsteps as he padded closer and closer, heard his soft sigh as he realized just what you had been doing since you disappeared from the Tower over an hour ago.
He quietly sat beside you, pulling his mask off before finally saying, “Pepper’s worried about you. You kinda just disappeared in the middle of dinner.” Peter was a comforting presence beside you as you struggled to stay afloat in your grief; your personal life preserver in your tide of emotions. “I told her I’d find you and convince you to go home before it gets too late.”
“Home,” you muttered and laughed mirthlessly. “It doesn’t feel like home without him.”
“Y/N,” Peter breathed, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I know that you… I miss him, too.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve lost him,” you whispered, your voice breaking ever so slightly as a sob threatened to escape you. Tears were blurring your vision, but no amount of tears would distort the image of Iron Man - of your father - enough to forget the pain that just seeing the tributes to him caused without fail. “I’ve lost him before, but he’d always come back. He’d always come home.” You furiously swiped at the stray tears, hating how weak it made you feel, how broken it made you feel. Especially in front of Peter. It was useless, and new tears swiftly replaced those that you wiped away. “This is the first time he’s not coming back.”
Peter didn’t respond. What do you say to someone who lost as much as you had? Your sobs filled the silence, and Peter hung his head in defeat.
“Why did it have to be him?” you choked out. You hadn’t expected Peter to answer. Hell, he was probably wondering the same thing. You tore your gaze away from the mural for the first time in nearly forty minutes, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “He knew what those fucking stones could do to him, and he still used them anyway!”
You wanted to scream and rage and cry and...and you wanted to hug your dad and never let him go. You couldn’t even remember the last time you hugged him. Had it been on the battlefield? So much had been happening around you that you couldn’t even remember if you’d hugged your dad.
The tears kept coming, faster and faster. Had you hugged your dad one last time before he died, before he sacrificed his life to put an end to Thanos once and for all? You didn’t know, and it only made your loss hurt even more.
“Why did it have to be him?” you repeated, leaning into Peter and resting your head on his shoulder. Instinctively, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him. “Why did he have to leave me? What about Morgan? What about Pepper? What about you? Why did he have to leave us?”
“He saved us,” Peter answered, but it sounded strangled, as if he were feeling just as lost without your dad as you felt. “He beat Thanos.”
You finally looked up at your companion, scanning the features of his face. His eyes were rimmed red, unshed tears shimmering within them, and the dark circles beneath them were even more pronounced from the shadows cast over his face by the lights of the city. “We could have found another way. There had to be another way. There just had to.”
Again, Peter didn’t respond. He didn’t know how.
Instead, he took your face between his hands, gently wiping your tears away with a soft brush of his thumbs. You sat there in silence, just staring at one another and trying to communicate what neither of you could bring yourselves to say.
‘Don’t leave me, too’.
The sound of a notification on your phone broke the moment, and you hesitantly pulled your phone from your pocket to see a barrage of texts from the last hour. Some were from Pepper, a couple from Rhodey, but most were from Peter himself before he’d found you. The most recent text, however, was from Pepper, asking if you’d be home in time to say goodnight to Morgan.
Having read the text over your shoulder, Peter asked, “Want me to swing you home?”
There it was again. Home. How could the place that taunted you with memories of your father ever be a home to you again?
You glanced at the boy beside you, the boy that had been your companion in grief for the last few months. Peter was the only one that could dry your tears and ease the ache in your heart. It was no surprise that it was him and not Sam or Rhodey or even Pepper that came after you once you disappeared in the middle of ‘family dinner’ at the Tower.
“Will you stay with me?” you asked, and after a brief flash of panic in his chocolate eyes, he nodded.
And just like that, with a simple nod of his head, an immense weight lifted from your shoulders. Maybe the Tower would eventually feel like home again so long as Peter was by your side.
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Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: language, the briefest mention of sex, ANGST
Inspired by: 8 Letters - Why Don't We
There are so many things that Peter loves about you.
He loves the way your tongue peaks out between your lips when you’re concentrating too hard on your chemistry homework. He loves the way you doodle in the margins of your notebook when you get bored in history class. He loves the way you draw patterns on the back of his hand absentmindedly during movie nights with Ned and MJ. He loves the way your nose scrunches slightly and your eyes crinkle when you laugh. He loves the way you look with nothing but his baggy t-shirt on.
He could go on and on.
There are so many things that Peter loves about you, but he just can’t bring himself to admit - to himself or to you or to anyone else - that he loves you.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to love you. It’s just that people he’s lost people that he loves.
He loved his parents, and they died. He loved Uncle Ben, and he died. He loved Tony, and he died.
Sure, there are plenty of other people that he loves - like Aunt May, Ned, and little Morgan - that he still has, but he doesn’t want to risk it.
Peter doesn’t want to lose you too, so he doesn’t say it, doesn’t acknowledge just how deeply he feels for you.
And some days he wonders if that’s fair to you, to deprive you of something you so freely have him months ago. The little 'I love you' had tumbled from your lips so easily as you laid tangled in the sheets beneath him, breathless and beautiful and so entirely too good for someone who felt as broken as he did. After that day, you spoke the words often, but you never expected anything from him in return.
You wait so patiently for him, and for that alone Peter wants to love you. You gave so much of yourself to him - your time, your body, your heart - and Peter wants to return the favor, but he just...can’t.
He’s come close to telling you what he knows you want to hear. He’s come so goddamn close, but every time the words are at the tip of his tongue, he swallows them whole and pushes the feelings down, down, down, down until they’ve disappeared from his mind completely. It’s like the minute he finally gives in to just how strongly he feels for you, you’ll slip through his fingers one way or another, and he’s not sure he could survive that.
He was still raw from Tony’s death, after all, and if he lost you now...
He’s pulled from his thoughts by a light flick on his forehead, and he lifts his eyes from his still blank assignment to see you smiling softly at him. “I can literally feel you thinking too hard, Pete,” you tell him, and though there’s a teasing lilt to your voice, he can see just how concerned you are in your eyes. “Wanna talk about it?”
He smiles at you in return, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, it’s nothing,” he lies. You see right through him, just as you always do when he gets like this. He cups your face, the pad of his thumb brushing over your cheekbone tenderly. “I’m fine. I promise.”
You don’t push, you don’t prod. You never do. Instead, you give him the time he needs to sort through his thoughts and feelings, knowing that eventually he’ll open up. And when he does, you’ll listen closely, give advice if the situation warrants it, and reassure him that everything’s okay despite the worst of his worries.
It’s one of the many things that he loves about you.
“I love you, you know,” you say instead, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. Your breath fans over his face, smelling of the spearmint gum that you’re always chewing on, and the familiarity of it, of you, helps him relax just enough to forget his fears for a moment. Your fingertips trail down the length of his arm to his hand, entangling your hand in his.
You help ground him, anchoring him to you and to the present, and, again, he thinks you deserve to be loved in a way that he’s not sure he can. You deserve so much more than he can give you.
He wants to tell you as much, but Peter also wants to be selfish and never let you go.
So instead, he says, “I know.”
You don’t deflate when he doesn’t say it back. You don’t frown or rip your hand from his or run from the room in anger and frustration and sadness. Instead, your smile grows wider before you press your lips to his.
Peter feels the guilt creep in, slowly overtaking the fear, and he wants to just say it so badly. He wants to tell you, over and over and over again until you’re sick of hearing it. But he doesn’t. He can’t.
“Y/N, I-” He tries, he really fucking tries, but he chokes on the words. Why is it so hard to just tell you what you deserve to hear? Why is it so hard to say it back? He feels so frustrated and so, so goddamn undeserving of you, and it hurts to think that he could be hurting you by not saying it back.
It shouldn’t be this hard.
You press your lips to his again and squeeze his hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, Pete. I know.” Another kiss pressed against his lips. “I know. I promise I know.”
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Cabin Fever (Part Two)
Cabin Fever Masterlist
Summary: What was meant to be a weekend at the cabin with Peter, Pepper, and Morgan very quickly turned into a weekend alone with your best friend and your recently acknowledged feelings for him thanks to a certain assumption made by your step-mother.
Pairing: College!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Warnings: language, sexual suggestions, angst?, too much overthinking, a tad bit of fluff
Telling Peter that you had lied to him about why Pepper and Morgan had suddenly cancelled their trip to the cabin didn’t go exactly as you had thought it would. His response to that fact that you had lied, however, was exactly as understanding as you had expected him to be, just as he always was when you finally found the courage to tell him the truth.
“I know.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye before pressing the bottle of wine to his lips, and- for fuck’s sake, were you jealous of a wine bottle? You rolled your lips together, your attention firmly on him as he wiped his wine-stained lips on the back of his arm. “Wanna talk about it?”
“No,” you blurted before shaking your head. “I mean, yes. Maybe?” You sighed as he chuckled softly, settling the half-empty bottle of wine on the dock between the two of you. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Pepper...made a few assumptions. About us. Together.”
If you hadn’t been watching him closely for his reaction, you would have missed the nearly imperceptible widening of his eyes before he schooled his expression. “I see. And these assumptions, they-”
“She thought we needed a weekend alone after the busy semester we both had.”
He smiled and nodded, the implication of your words completely going over his head. “That’s nice of her. It has been a long time since we had some time to hang out, just the two of us. Last time was that weekend before winter break ended, right?”
“Mhm,” you answered noncommittally. “But Peter, I think you’re missing the p-”
“We had a movie night, and you accidentally bought Star Trek instead of Star Wars,” he reminisced, a small smile curving his lips as he leaned back on his arms and stared at the colors of the sunset beyond the trees on the horizon. “I had to spend all night explaining the differences in the two franchises to you.”
“And I’m still not convinced that you didn’t buy the wrong movie on purpose, but the Star Wars franchise is a cinematic masterpiece and the movies deserve to be watched multiple times to truly appreciate-”
“Peter!” you interrupted. Your raised voice caused him to jump, but if you didn’t say what was on your mind now, you probably never would. You had just a fraction of a second to figure out how you wanted to proceed with telling Peter about Pepper’s real reason for not joining you that weekend, and in that miniscule amount of time, you panicked. There was no way in hell you could tell Peter that your step-mom thought you were going to spend the entire weekend having sex after a prolonged separation, so you did the first thing you could think of to put an end to the conversation altogether.
You pushed him into the lake.
Your mouth dropped open in shock and your eyes widened as Peter resurfaced, his hair sticking to his forehead and his already tight t-shirt clinging to his body. It took considerable effort to lift your gaze from his chest and the way that the wet t-shirt clung to his muscled form. You bit your lip and tried to keep your eyes trained firmly on his face, hoping that he didn’t see you openly staring at him like you wanted to completely devour him. And yet, staring at his face, as droplets of water trailed along his jawline and down his neck, did nothing to help the growing heat beneath your skin.
You wanted to trace the trail of those water droplets. With your tongue. For fuck’s sake, when did he get so attractive?
When he wiped the water from his face, his chocolate eyes narrowed at you. He looked absolutely adorable - pouting like that - and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from you. You slapped your hand over your mouth to try to mask it, but it was too late. “What the fuck was that for, Y/N?” he questioned, and though he tried to look angry, the corners of his mouth were twitching into the ghost of a smile.
You let yourself laugh freely then, feeling entirely more lighthearted now than you had only minutes ago when you were contemplating possibly making your weekend alone with Peter a thousand times more awkward by telling him the truth. “I had to get you to stop talking about Star Wars somehow,” you explained, and thankfully it was enough of a truth that he didn’t instantly spot the lie in your explanation. He really would have talked about Star Wars for hours if you let him. “Star Wars is so overrated, Peter.”
“You take that back!” he cried, wading through the shallow water towards you.
“Not gonna happen, Parker.” You laughed again, but your laughter was cut short when he stepped between your legs and wrapped his arms around your waist. The cool lake water seeping through the material of your shirt did absolutely nothing to douse the growing heat you felt at being so close to him. “What are you doing, Peter?”
“Do you take it back?” he questioned.
You shook your head, watching him curiously.
His chocolate eyes sparkled with mischief, his brows raised in question, and his lips curled into a devastatingly attractive grin. “Take it back, Y/N. Last chance.”
Your mouth opened to respond, to tell him that you would never take back what you said - because really, the Star Wars movies needed to be knocked down a peg after Peter did absolutely nothing but talk them up - but you never managed to form the words. Peter’s proximity and the heat of his hands on your lower back made it impossible to speak. Hell, it made it impossible to even think straight. If you had managed to actually say something, you’re sure that it would have been nothing more than garbled nonsense.
A scream tore through you as Peter tugged you into the water with him, and once your feet found purchase on the sandy bottom of the lake, you surfaced, sputtering and shivering and feeling significantly less heat now that Peter’s hands were no longer on your body.
“You asshole!” you cried before bursting into a fit of giggles. He playfully splashed you, and you wholeheartedly returned the favor, sending a handful of water directly into his face. “What if I had my phone in my pocket?”
“I knew you didn’t.” He splashed again, laughing as you tried to shield yourself from the incoming water with your hands. “You left it on the couch. Besides, you asked for this when you pushed me into the water first.”
“Oh? I asked for it, did I?” you taunted as you waded through the water, closer and closer and closer until you were standing inches apart. “You sure about that, Parker?”
He eyed you skeptically and took a step back, but he was still within your reach. You pounced, dragging Peter beneath the surface of the water with you. After a moment, strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back to the surface. As soon as you and Peter locked eyes with one another, the sounds of your combined laughter echoed across the surface of the lake, but you quickly sobered and averted your gaze when you realized just how close you were.
You tried to ignore the feeling of his arms caging you against his chest, the feeling of his warm breath fanning across your cheek, the feeling of his heart beating beneath your hand on his chest. You tried to ignore the way that Peter’s hold on you never ceased, the way that Peter’s gaze was burning into your skin, the way that his fingers flexed against your lower back at the slightest move from you.
“We should probably-”
You bit your lip, trying to hide the curl of your lips. Speaking at the same time was a talent that you and Peter had, never failing to irritate your dad back when you had first met, and it seemed that even a prolonged separation didn’t improve your conversational timing at all. “What’s up?” you asked him, finally getting the courage to look up at him.
You glanced up at him from under your lashes, and you were surprised to see him staring at you. The expression on his face had caught you off guard. It was so...soft, so tender with a certain heat hidden beneath in his chocolate eyes that you hadn’t seen directed at you before. It was a look that you recognized, though. You’d seen it when he looked at Liz during your sophomore year of high school, when he looked at MJ during your senior year of high school, when he looked at Gwen during your freshman year of college.
But now he was looking at you.
“What?” you asked, feeling suddenly shy under his intense gaze.
He stared at you, opening and closing his mouth over and over again as if he was trying to sort out what he wanted to say before he said something that made the situation ten times more awkward than it already was with your admission. His dark eyes, looking like pools of golden honey from the sunlight reflected in them, scanned your features, and you held your breath, waiting and waiting and waiting for him to say something, anything.
“I’ve missed this,” he finally said. “I’ve missed you. Is it selfish of me to say that I wished you never went to MIT? That I wished you stayed in New York with me?” After a beat of silence, he quickly added, “And with Harry and MJ?”
Of all the things you had been expecting him to say, that certainly wasn’t one of them. You thought he’d maybe tell you that the wet clothes clinging to him was making him uncomfortable or that he was hungry or that he wanted to force you to watch Star Wars until you finally appreciated his favorite movie series, but this... You hadn’t expected him to say something like that, not even in your wildest dreams.
Maybe you were looking into it too much. Just because he missed you, just because he wanted you to stay in New York - to stay with him - didn’t mean that he returned your feelings...whatever those feelings were.
You shook your head, both in response to his questions and to attempt to clear your head. “I don’t think it’s selfish. Is it selfish of me to wish that you didn’t need to stay in New York? To wish that you could’ve come to MIT with me? To wish that we could spend everyday together in Cambridge, annoying the hell out of Harley with our endless pop culture references and trying every single pizza place on campus with Ned?” You rested your head against his shoulder to hide your flustered expression from his view. If he saw the way that you were staring at him with heart eyes you’d be done for. There’d be absolutely no hiding how you felt. “I missed you, too.”
“Even if it was selfish, I don’t think I’d care.”
Well, shit. Peter Parker was going to be the end of you if he kept saying shit like that.
“Is that right?” You allowed yourself to hope - hope that he felt the same about you, hope that his heart raced the same way that your heart raced whenever you smiled at each other, hope that he felt just as at home in your arms as you felt in his, hope that he he wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him right now.
But hope is a fickle bitch.
“Of course. You’re my best friend, Y/N.” He laughed then, completely unaware that his words had caused your heart to break just a little. “Don’t tell Ned, though.”
“Right.” You cleared your throat and stepped away from him. You pushed down the hurt and forced a smile onto your face. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, Parker.” You gave him a quick wink before turning around and wading towards the shore, needing to get away from Peter as fast as humanly possible.
You didn’t want him to see how hurt you were by his innocent declaration.
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Did you know that Peter's Peter tingle can lead up to dangerous territories? Can you write a one shot based on that? But instead of zombie apocalypse he's in some other Avengers battle? Love your stories 💕
Back in 2012, when aliens first came to Earth (or rather: the general public first saw real aliens), it has been very exciting and the coolest thing ever.
Now, several years later, everyone is less excited about it – especially the citizens of New York City. At this point, seeing an alien is basically just another Tuesday, as annoying as their subway being late or getting stuck in traffic.
Except for Peter, because he’s now one of the people responsible for making sure the aliens don’t hurt anyone. By now, he’s got some experience with how to deal with them and isn’t even that impressed when they can, like, spit some acid or something.
However, this alien attack is less fun.
In fact, it’s absolutely terrifying.
His patrol had been pretty uneventful before Karen made him aware of the alien energy only a block away. As far as aliens go, it didn’t look too weird or threatening, not much larger than a golden retriever (a lot less cute, though), and wasn’t attack anyone. Peter slowly approached it, keeping his voice light and hopefully non-threatening. The alien stopped, looking at him – well, Peter liked to think it looked at him, but he didn’t see any eyes in their face.
But then, Peter made the mistake of trying to touch it – and the alien didn’t like that.
Razor sharp fangs appeared in its mouth as it pounced at him. Peter only escaped them because of his spidey sense, making his body move before his brain catch up. Immediately, he swings himself in the air to get out of the alien’s reach, but that didn’t work because of course that alien can fly. And it’s fast.
And it has friends.
Before Peter really knew what was happening, he is being chased through Queens, an entire mob of aliens on his heels. His entire body is rigid, the vibration in his neck almost painful and doesn’t ebb away for even a nanosecond with the aliens so close. All of his senses are turned up to at least fifteen to deal with the danger around him, and he already has a major headache.
“Karen, I need you to-”
Peter never gets to finish his sentence because suddenly something slams into his side, crashing him into a brick wall and he slumps down on the roof of a neighboring building. It presses all the air out of his lungs, but he doesn’t even get a moment to catch his breath, much less figure out why he hasn’t been warned about an alien attacking him, because suddenly they’re all there, jumping at him, fangs and claws tearing open his suit and skin. He tries to fight, but they’re weighing him down and every wound turns him more and more numb. His headache gets worse, making him nauseous. He curled himself into a ball, arms crossed over his face to protect it from the vicious attacks.
“Help!” Peter screams – at least he thinks he screams, but in reality, it’s barely more about a whisper.
Luckily, that’s enough for Karen.
“Kid?” Tony’s voice booms in Peter’s head, way too loud for his sensitive ears right now. Tears start to gather in Peter’s eyes. “What is-”
“Help,” he repeats and this time it’s a sob. Peter has been in bad situations before, but never like this with his own senses working against him.
For a second that seems like an eternity, Tony is silent, most likely checking what’s going on before swearing in a way that would put sailors to shame. “Peter, I’m on my way, okay? I’m two minutes out and-”
I don’t think I can make it that long is what Peter wants to say, but all he manages to press out is a “can’t” that’s immediately followed by a scream as an alien sinks its claw into his flesh, pain flashing through his entire body, his headache swelling up until it feels like his head is about to be split in half.
Tony curses again. “Peter, you have Instant Kill. Use it.”
“Instant Kill is exactly for situations like this! Use it!”
Peter’s mouth is open, ready to given the order to Karen, but not even a whimper comes out.
It’s too much. Everything hurts so much. He can’t think straight and he’s barely aware of Tony’s panicked screams or the alien growls. The pain keeps rising and rising, paralyzing him completely – until, suddenly, everything is quiet as Peter’s consciousness slips away.
Tag list: @joyful-soul-collector @sheabeeprime @spideyspeaches @zanderljones @jelly-pies @ftopbn @lost-lunar-wolf @peter-is-a-bean @a-moon-fairy @mrs-potts-stark @supernoetta @glorified-red @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @thecrazymarvelfan @hatakehikari @aixabi @sublimedragonherohumanoid @bittersweetbeneath @vintervittrannerd @anarinette @always-loki @zetasaturno99 @sdottkrames @potter-turn-to-page-394 @doctordumblesstark @its-funnier-when-you-say-it @fangirl485 @gaycinnamonrollgirl @bettyadinnye @0adore0 @loveliestdisappointment @lunars--world @just-things-things @chaos-with-a-pen @onlyonepotatochip @dreamingtreees @liviemma @nightingalestakeflight @imwatermeloness
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"Honor is dead but I'll see what I can do" as peter parker?
(this is a reference to an obscure fandom)
"Honour is dead but I’ll see what I can do.”
You scoffed, twisting your controller to the left. “Why are you so freaking serious, Pete? It’s Mario Kart.”
Peter’s hands were white around his own controller. “This is a battle of life and death.”
“Between who? Peach and Luigi?”
“You won the last one!”
“‘Cause Peach is the best!”
“Luigi’s just as good!”
“Yeah? Show that to my trophies, loser!”
send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five
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I’m really looking forward to your upcoming Peter Parker story <3
Thank you so much for saying this I’ve been wanting to get back into writing for marvel for a long time so this means a lot anon <3
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3 with my boy peter from the fluff list please ily
“Hey, baby. I’m so sorry for running late,” Peter rushes his words as he enters the apartment, racing straight to his room, but not before quickly pressing a kiss on the back of your head as you lay on the couch.
“It’s okay. May let me in and we had a fun little chat before she had to head out,” You say loudly so that he can hear you.
It wasn’t unusual for you to be left alone in the apartment. And it was kind of endearing to know that May trusted you enough to do so. You were over there enough that it was practically your second home and Peter didn’t mind having you hang out while you waited for him to come home from his internship at Stark Industries. Well, the nights you made plans anyway.
Besides, it was a lot easier for you to head straight to his apartment after school than to lug yourself all the way home and then back. And May enjoyed having the female company whenever she was there, especially after it being just her and Peter for so long, but mostly, she liked hearing from you that Peter was doing okay balancing everything.
“You did? About what?” Peter calls out from his bedroom.
“Oh, y’know, just girl stuff.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t make me worried at all,” You hear him laugh, followed by the scuffling of him getting changed and the sound of his closet opening. “Hey, you haven’t seen my blue hoodie around, have you?”
The second he asks, your eyes grow wide as you look down to see that you were in fact wearing the hoodie in question. It’s not like Peter was going to be mad, you always stole his hoodies, but you knew that he liked this one in particular. And, so did you.
Your clear your throat and as steady as you can you say, “Noooo.”
“You’re wearing it, aren’t you?” You don’t answer him, and a second later he pops around the corner with a knowing smirk on his face. He hadn’t noticed it when he walked in, being in a rush and all, but he also enjoyed the thought of you finding comfort in his clothes.
“I’m sorry. It’s just so soft and you know this is my favourite one of your sweaters.” You try to justify your means, but Peter just shakes his head, letting out a hearty chuckle.
You watch as he slowly rounds the couch and leans towards you, hovering just above your face. “You’re lucky I love you.” He whispers and places a kiss on your lips before nuzzling kisses onto your neck and causing you to squeal.
Once he stops and you calm yourself down, he sits on the couch next to you, letting your legs drape across him as he rubs them gently.
“So, can I keep it?” You smile cheekily, knowing damn well that he wasn’t going to say no to you.
“Yeah,” He smiles, winking. “It looks better on you anyway.”
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ
here you go anon, hope you like it 🤍
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Spider-Man (Peter Parker)
I pine for the days of mechanical squid arms. Or razor-bladed wingsuits. Or robotic stinger tails, or indestructible armor with a giant horn, or crazed Russian huntsmen looking for the next trophy, or mountainous mobsters.
Seems like I miss themes, doesn't it?
But really, what I miss is the simplicity of it. You look at all of them and think, "Well, that's just ridiculous, just straight up cartoonish. Obviously that's a bad guy." I mean, it probably helps when those guys are plowing through banks like demolition derbies, or building stuff to take over the world. Today the docks, tomorrow Manhattan, in two days the world. (Why New York? Why is it always New York?)
Those were the times when I knew what I had in front of me. Evil was grotesque and noisy. I didn't have time to feel scared because I didn't need to ponder what it was I was looking at, not from a philosophical point of view.
Kingpin? Stay outside his range, keep that diamond cane away from him, and wait for him to get tired. Seriously, don't let him touch you, he could knock you out with a flick of his pinky. Sometimes you can get lucky and bonk him on that bare dome if you time your punches -- or thrown debris -- just right.
Scorpion? Get the tail. Basically just a variant on knocking out Otto's tentacles, but there's only one, and I swear Gargan's intellect took a hit when they pumped him up with that steroid cocktail. He was better off as a PI.
Vulture? Well, don't date his daughter, I guess, would be tip #1. But if you're dumb enough to fail that, get in behind him and gum up the engine gimbles on his flight suit. If it can't take off or maneuver, he's got nowhere to go.
Rhino? Yeah, you can't get through that armor, so you just get him to brain himself against something either really hard or really zappy. Zappy tends to do the trick. Alexei is a dumb brute, through and through. Calling him a one-trick pony would be either a compliment to him or an insult to ponies.
These are the kinds of people who everyone calls my match. But no... for all their powers and for the cunning they occasionally display, that's not what matches me, and definitely not what bests me.
It's subtlety. That's what gets me every time.
The symbiote almost got me. It literally got under my skin and tried to become a part of me. I showered for a week and pretty well scalded myself all over just to try and get rid of the feeling. It tried to make me into something I wasn't, and never wanted to be -- a raging, bloodthirsty, murderous animal. It tried to make me into what it was. Can you blame me for trying to get rid of it? But for the longest time I didn't even notice what it was doing to me, until I nearly threw Shocker over a belfry. Not very subtle.
I honestly thought the church bells had killed it, so when I found out Eddie had it, I got the rudest awakening imaginable -- I had an alien stalker who knew my identity, my home address, and all my loved ones, and was totally able to evade my spider-sense. I stupidly didn't realize Eddie's contempt of me ran so deep... the Sin-Eater thing was supposed to be his big break. It wasn't my fault that he got it wrong, but maybe there was something I could've done to help him pick up the pieces. Whatever... together, Eddie and the symbiote showed me how powerful their desire for vengeance was.
Black Cat has always been pretty good at getting into my head. My problem is I'm terrible at letting her. I was lonely. I led with my heart and not my brain. I should never have taken my mask off. Could there have been any more blatant a sign of me letting my guard down? Felicia played me brilliantly. (I'll never live down that time she got down on one knee right in the middle of a heist. Every time I remember that moment, my shin aches.)
Normally I would've said that Otto was among the clown crowd, but working so closely with him for months on all the robotics projects, I really did let myself be blind to what he was doing. It's clear as day now, of course. The more he felt the squeeze of the world around him... the more his health began to fail... the more he wanted to squeeze back. He made arms. Then he made tentacles. He made a remote injector system, but what he really made was an upgrade for Scorpion. He invented a new insulation system, and it empowered Electro. As I look back on it now, I don't even know whether his original intent had been good, or whether he'd meant to give his good gifts to bad people all along. I didn't see the contracts... I took him at his word, because I believed in what we were doing.
That's why I don't give guff to SHIELD agents when I meet them for not recognizing that Hydra had gotten so deep into their ranks. When you believe in a cause, when you commit to it, you start to let yourself think you're surrounded by other people who have just as much faith and commitment.
Those are my matches. Those are the ones that can best me. The ones where I didn't pay attention, overlooked crucial details, let my guard down...
And maybe the most troubling thing I've noticed is that evil seems to be getting better at subtlety every day.
Spiderdevil + Angst 30 “I risked my life for you.”
An exuse to write angst? Yes please! (I'm too lazy to try and fit this with the three sentence limit haha)
Matt’s mouth opened and closed several times as he processed everything Peter laid bare just moments before, unable to articulate the mix of emotions warring within him.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and Matt could feel the sun warming his exposed skin. Neither wore their costumes; the city had been blessedly quiet following the attack two weeks prior. Casualties had been high on both sides, and it was near a miracle that Peter was standing in Matt’s living room.
Finally, he settled on squeezing out a gruff, "I risked my life for you." Once he got the words out, his throat felt less constricted and he continued on, "If I hadn't gone back they may have-"
"I was already safe, Matt!" Peter's shoulders slumped as he quickly deflated. Matt could feel Peter's racing pulse calm for the first time since he let himself in. "There are lines, and you crossed a big one. There is no going back. No way this ends well for us. How could it? Knowing you did- did that?"
Peter shook his head and left without another word. And Matt let him.
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Hear me out. Picture this: Peter participating at Got Talent with a dance routine and getting a Golden Buzzer right after he finished, with no warning, completely out of the blue. And when the juries ask him why he came he simply says that Tony Stark dared him to do it. Then Tony waves from behind the juries, where he was quietly enjoying the show (in a not so incognito disguise).
Okay, I know I usually work on prompts in chronological order but this one inspired me and actually got me to stop playing Sims for today, so I just have to write something short for it. And I should also point out: I don’t want those talent shows and I have only a very, very vague idea of how the show works.
Golden confetti falls from the ceiling as the entire audience is cheering, jumping up and down. The judges are standing as well, smiling and clapping as the one who pressed the buzzer joins them, urging the audience to cheer even louder. It cuts to a close-up of the contestant’s face, full of disbelieve, mouth wide open, eyes twice their size, golden sparkles getting stuck in his hair.
Flash who is sitting in front of the TV, originally enjoying his favorite guilty pleasure show, has a very similar expression. “What the- since when can Parker dance?”
As the audience is still cheering and losing their mind, they cut back to clips from Peter’s performance. When his classmate first appeared on the screen, Flash choked on the soda he was drinking, spilling it all over his shirt. He could do nothing but stare (and dab away the wetness) as Peter introduced himself in his usual stammering fashion, saying he’s almost seventeen and that he’s going to dance. Then, a modern remix of a classic rock song started playing and Peter started to dance.
Since when did know how to Parker dance?
No, scratch that.
Why is he so good at it?
Peter flew over the stage, his moves looking more like acrobatics than actual dance moves, bending his body in ways that he obviously copied from Flash’s idol Spider-Man – but that doesn’t mean it was less impressive. Soon, everyone was cheering and one of the judges raced forward to press the golden buzzer, releasing the absurd amount of golden confetti.
“Peter, that was quite spectacular,” a judge says as everyone settled down a bit. “I’m telling you, you will be a very successful pro dancer.”
“Thank you,” Peter says as someone gives him a microphone, not even sounding out of breath despite what he just did. “But, uh, I don’t actually wanna be a professional dancer.”
“No.” A pause and Peter’s cheeks turn red. “I wanna be an inventor. I’ve got some friends who are disappointed that we don’t have flying cars yet, and I promised them I’ll fix that.” The audience laughs and coos at that, already completely wrapped around his pinky.
“Then why did come here?”
“Tony Stark dared me to do it.”
The confused murmur that runs through the crowd quickly turns into exciting screams as Tony Stark himself steps out on the stage, an AC/DC song playing in the background. He’s not even bothering to wave at anyone in the audience and practically races over to Peter, grinning like a madman as he traps him in a bearhug, lifting him into the air until his feet don’t touch the stage anymore (considering that they’re almost the same height, that’s quite something).
Completely dumb-struck, Flash can’t even manage to close his mouth, as he watches Tony and Peter exchange a few words, the tension in Peter’s shoulders now melted away, and their faces full of joy. It seems almost too… personal and private to be broadcasted to the entire world and end up on YouTube for eternity.
Tony grabs the microphone out of Peter’s hands. “Another round of applause for Mr. Peter Parker!”
Immediately, the audience breaks out into another ear-piercing cheering session and Peter’s face turns bright red.
After a while, one of the judges asks: “How do you two know each other?”
“Oh, he’s my protégé. Or personal intern, if you will.” Tony throws an arm around Peter’s shoulder, pressing him against his side. He looks so proud, almost like (for the lack of a better word) a dad. “I always told him he’s got talent, but he was too chicken to give it a try. So, I had to trick him.”
“And now you owe me pizza,” Peter mumbles, but it’s still loud enough that the microphone catches it and booms it through the entire auditorium, making the audience cheer again. Tony’s smile only widens as he tips Peter’s head to the side and presses a quick kiss against his temple.
Well… Seems like Parker really does know Tony Stark.
Tag list: @joyful-soul-collector @sheabeeprime @spideyspeaches @zanderljones @jelly-pies @ftopbn @lost-lunar-wolf @peter-is-a-bean @a-moon-fairy @mrs-potts-stark @supernoetta @glorified-red @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @thecrazymarvelfan @hatakehikari @aixabi @sublimedragonherohumanoid @bittersweetbeneath @vintervittrannerd @anarinette @always-loki @zetasaturno99 @sdottkrames @potter-turn-to-page-394 @doctordumblesstark @its-funnier-when-you-say-it @fangirl485 @gaycinnamonrollgirl @bettyadinnye @0adore0 @loveliestdisappointment @lunars--world @just-things-things @chaos-with-a-pen @onlyonepotatochip @dreamingtreees @liviemma @nightingalestakeflight
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Heyyy! I was wondering if you could like write a fic where tony tells Peter “ remind me to kill you after we finish please” after he does something dangerous? And I love your blog!
Tony picked Peter up from school for a quick afternoon snack before the kid starts his patrol and just as they are about to exit the car, there’s a small explosion in the apartment building in front of them.
“FRI?” Tony asks immediately, tapping the side of his glasses. “What was that? Terror attack? A bomb? Can you-” He gets distracted as he notices Peter is taking off his shirt and pants, revealing the Spider-Man suit underneath. “No, stop, you can’t-“
“I have to help,” he simply says in a voice that allows no room for an argument. By now, Tony knows it’s practically impossible to stop Peter from helping, partly because of his drive to help people and partly because he’s a teenager and teenager never listen to adult.
“Your suit isn’t fireproofed,” Tony tries to slow him down (and curses himself for not making the suit fireproofed – seriously, why hasn’t he?)
“I’ll be careful,” Peter says almost dismissively as he slips on the mask and opens the door.
“Remind me to kill you after this!” he calls after the neighborhood vigilante who shot a web to a building.
“Copy that!” And with that, Peter is already in the air, swinging towards the window that has been destroyed by the explosion to help the screaming people inside.
“FRI, I need-”
“Mark XLVII is already on the way, as well as the local police and fire department. Because of the fire, I cannot conduct an accurate heat scan to find out how many people are still in danger.” As if on cue, a screaming probably-resident drops on the pavement, the fall slowed down by a sticky spiderweb that uselessly pools around them as soon as they’re safe on their feet. A second resident quickly follows.
Just as Tony gets out of the car, the Iron Man armor arrives, encasing him in a matter of seconds – he really needs to get that nano suit functioning, especially if Peter continues to hide his suit underneath his clothes – and carrying him into the air, avoiding the people Spider-Man sends down to the ground.
He lands in a kitchen (later, they’ll find out that it has been a gas leak), fire already eating away wooden cabinets and décor – and Peter. The kid just sent down a mother with her baby and as he tries to catch his balance, he steps too close to the flames, his suit catching fire.
“Shit!” Peter curses, already patting down the flames (at least Tony made a suit that’s not immediately going up in flames), and Tony immediately raises his arm, pointing small fire extinguisher in his gauntlet at it. In a matter of seconds, the kid is back to his regular not-being-on-fire-self. “Thanks, man!”
Tony can’t even scoff at that. Teenagers these days, they really are a menace. “Is there anyone else in here?” he simply asks as he starts douse the flames, FRIDAY pointing out dangerous points that need immediate attention.
Peter cocks his head to the side, his giant bug eyes blinking twice, listening to his surroundings – yeah, that’s still freaky. And just to make sure he’s not missing anything, he actually leans out of the hole in the wall, screaming a “Hey, is someone still missing?” down to the traumatized people.
No one is missing and by the time Tony put out the fire and secured damaged and unstable support beams, the police and fire department arrived. Iron Man and Spider-Man take that chance to fly off, stopping at a rooftop a couple of blocks away, waiting for Tony’s car to drive itself to their location.
“Hey, Mr. Stark, you told me to remind you that you’re gonna kill me.”
“Thanks. I almost forgot that,” Tony answers sarcastically and rolls his eyes.
“No problem. And I was thinking… maybe you could kill me with too much ice cream?”
“You think you deserve ice cream?”
“I deserve all the ice cream.”
“… Is this still about Ben & Jerry’s not making a Spider-Man flavor?”
“I would make such a good flavor, though!”
Tag list: @joyful-soul-collector @sheabeeprime @spideyspeaches @zanderljones @jelly-pies @ftopbn @lost-lunar-wolf @peter-is-a-bean @a-moon-fairy @mrs-potts-stark @supernoetta @glorified-red @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @thecrazymarvelfan @hatakehikari @aixabi @sublimedragonherohumanoid @bittersweetbeneath @vintervittrannerd @anarinette @always-loki @zetasaturno99 @sdottkrames @potter-turn-to-page-394 @doctordumblesstark @its-funnier-when-you-say-it @fangirl485 @gaycinnamonrollgirl @bettyadinnye @0adore0 @loveliestdisappointment @lunars--world @just-things-things @chaos-with-a-pen @onlyonepotatochip @dreamingtreees
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I love your platonic soulmates story where Peter is holding the magazine upside down. Do you think that you would ever be interested in making a continuation of it or the same story in Tony's point of view?
Anthony Edward Stark is born with a needle-less compass on his right wrist.
That in itself isn’t anything unusual, about half the population of Earth is born with an incomplete compass, waiting for their soulmate to be born. Howard and Maria don’t think too much about it.
By the time he turns seven and still has no needle in his compass, they get a bit antsy. While they try to calm themselves down by reassuring themselves that the age gap might simply be a bit larger than they first expected, they remember the tales of people who never get a soulmate at all, tales that are whispered around expecting parents to freak them out, because by the time children understand what the compass on their wrist means, most of the time the tattoo is already complete.
On his sixteenth birthday, Tony comes to the conclusion that he’s one of those never-mentioned people who doesn’t get a soulmate.
The alcohol running through his veins might have something to with that self-loathing realization.
Over the years, Tony learns to hide the pain. He’s more than disappointed that no one he would even describe as a friend (basically Rhodey, and maybe Pepper and Happy, but seeing as he’s paying them, he’s not quite sure if they qualify as friends) is his soulmate or any person he spends the night (or just a few hours) with. He hides the pain with easy smiles, various sunglasses, alcohol and watches around his right wrist.
And then, after over 30 years, everything changes when he’s working on one of his cars and catches a glance of his right wrist – and he sees a needle pointing east. For two full minutes, Tony can do nothing but stare at the thin line that keeps pointing to that one exact spot, even as he starts moving around to find out if it’s some kind of joke.
Nobody pranked him.
The needle is real.
Tony has a soulmate.
That causes an existential crisis for several reason because one: he does have a soulmate. He’s not the terrible, broken, unlovable person he thought all his life he is. He has a soulmate! And two: This means his soulmate has just been born. His soulmate is a baby.
Tony knows nothing about how to take care of a baby. In true Tony-Stark-fashion, he starts his research about babies and how to look after them, and it gets to the point where everyone around him starts to believe that one of his one night stands turned up at his door step with a positive pregnancy test.
However, another 15 years pass before Tony meets his soulmate – in the form of a nervous teenage boy sitting in the SI lobby in a slightly too big suit and holding a magazine upside down.
A part of him – a part that’s been born out of the bitterness of being different than everyone else for so many years, born out of the fear to be alone forever – always believed that people are lying when they said their life changed once they met their soulmate, and he swore himself that his life won’t change.
That was a lie.
Because Peter brought a youthful, innocent joy in his life that Tony didn’t even know he’s been missing. During their time at MIT, Rhodey once described meeting one’s soulmate like finding a person you immediately click with, someone who understands what you’re saying before you can even open your mouth. And that’s what it’s like with Peter. Their relationship doesn’t start off peachy and peaceful, no, Peter is way too intimidated by him to drop the Mr. Stark for months and Tony – despite his thorough research 15 years ago – has no idea how to really connect with the kid.
Tony can’t say when their relationship tipped from awkward mentor and mentee to sassing family. It just happened. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
With a wide grin, Tony places the Uno card on the pile in front of them. Pepper, May, and Rhodey laugh while Peter stares at the +2 card.
Slowly, he turns his head to Tony. “What the fuck, Anthony?”
The entire table breaks out in laughter.
“You gotta draw two cards,” Tony says, still half-laughing.
“This isn’t fair. You cheated.”
“Definitely not. Now take the cards, Parker.”
“The betrayal,” the kid fake-whispers as he pulls two cards from the other pile on the table. “Unbelievable. I won’t stand for this. I’m gonna run away.”
“Which would be completely useless. You know I would always find you.” Tony points to his wrist, showing the compass with the needle pointing directly at Peter.
A smile tucks at Peter’s lips, and that’s all Tony needs to know to be sure that Peter is just as happy to be Tony’s soulmate as he is. However, when he looks up into Tony’s eyes, there’s quite a spark of mischief in them. “Is that a dare?”
Tag list: @joyful-soul-collector @sheabeeprime @spideyspeaches @zanderljones @jelly-pies @ftopbn @lost-lunar-wolf @peter-is-a-bean @a-moon-fairy @mrs-potts-stark @supernoetta @glorified-red @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @thecrazymarvelfan @hatakehikari @aixabi @sublimedragonherohumanoid @bittersweetbeneath @vintervittrannerd @anarinette @always-loki @zetasaturno99 @sdottkrames @potter-turn-to-page-394 @doctordumblesstark @its-funnier-when-you-say-it @fangirl485 @gaycinnamonrollgirl @bettyadinnye @0adore0 @loveliestdisappointment @lunars--world @just-things-things @chaos-with-a-pen @onlyonepotatochip @dreamingtreees
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OH OH OH how about 31 and/or 32 for the homeboyPeter Parker? Or honestly just go off because whatever you put out is gold anyways ☺️💜
"This is the third time, Peter!" You retort, throwing your jacket onto the bed and sitting down in a huff.
"I know, Y/n, I'm sorry," Peter begins, rounding the bed and stopping before you. You could see the guilt in his eyes, that he never meant for this to happen, but that doesn't change the fact that it did. "I lost track of time. You know how hard I've been trying to impress Mr Stark."
This was the third time Peter had stood you up, and every time he had given you the same exact excuse about wanting to make a good impression on Mr Stark and how the internship was really important to him. While you knew all that, and you supported him, you had also grown tired of constantly feeling like the second choice. You were his girlfriend, spending time with him shouldn't have to be this hard.
"No, Peter. You always do this," You sigh.
"I'm sorry, I just-"
"-just want to impress Tony. Yeah, I know,"
Peter's head falls between his shoulders and he exhales loudly, entangling your hands between his, "Just tell me what I can do to make things right. Do you want me to buy you the biggest teddy bear in the world? Give you a million kisses?"
"Is this really the time for jokes?" You smile lopsidedly, removing your hand and brush aside your hair as you lean back onto the bed.
"I just want to be able to spend time with you without worrying that you'll have to rush off or that you won't show."
Slowly, and hesitantly, Peter joins you on the bed, the two of you staring up at the roof and a small silence ensues. Things with Peter used to be fun and easy. He was the one thing that used to calm you down in a world full of chaos, and now it felt like the opposite. You knew that juggling school, a relationship and the Stark internship must've been wearing him out, and you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt - you just missed him.
"You know I love you, right?" Peter turns to look at you and you nod. "So, you should know that I'm going to do everything in my power to make this work because I don't want to risk losing you. Ever."
He snakes his arm beneath your neck, wrapping it around your back and pulls you in closer. You rest your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat calming you down, and he places a soft kiss on the top of your head.
"You're still getting me the worlds biggest teddy bear," You nuzzle closer into him and he chuckles, the sound reverberating through his chest.
"How 'bout I get you two?"
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ
titi, my angel, my love, thank you for the request. i hope you like it 🤍
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Prompt: The entire team goes on a mission against Hidra and Cap is on "anti-nazis-Hidra" mode, focused and on the verge on revenge, not listening anyone and on full attack... Peter got hurt and ask for help and Cap order him to wait until after and keep going with the plan. Tony of course doesn't listen to him because that's his kid and goes to help him and Peter is bleeding out heavily, almost unconscious and delirious... Tony's reaction is up to you
I think Steve wouldn’t be that extreme and ignore his teammates when they get hurt or tell them to wait, especially Peter since he’s still a kid, so I changed it a bit in a way to make this more realistic – as realistic as something from Marvel can be, at least.
Describing the atmosphere around them as tense is an understatement. Even describing it as suffocating wouldn’t be enough.
Steve takes this mission of busting up some underground HYDRA agents very personal for three reasons.
Number 1: They’re HYDRA.
Number 2: They’re Nazi. (Which is kinda already implied in the first reason, but Steve constantly brings it up, so Peter thought it would be fitting to mention it again.)
And last but not least number 3: These particular agents were heavily involved in handling the Winter Soldier, wiping his memory again and again, bringing him to his missions, keeping him in a cell to sleep in.
Seeing those locked up behind bars is at the very top of Steve’s wish list right now – which makes it even more frustrating that they’re quite good at slipping through their fingers.
Nobody of them expected the mission to be this long (they’re on day 6 now and Tony made a joke that Peter is lucky it’s his summer break right now or he would’ve flown him back to New York, but the joke failed to cut the tension in the quinjet) or this difficult. In fact, if they would’ve known it would turn out like this, they wouldn’t have asked Peter if he wanted to join them. Peter is also quite sure that they would’ve turned around already to drop Peter off if it wasn’t for Steve’s mood.
“We’re gonna get them this time,” Steve tells them as they’re all about to jump out of the quinjet (Peter will stick a web to Tony’s suit and hitch a ride with him) to hopefully surprise the HYDRA agents.
Nobody wants to tell him that, based on their track record, he has no reason to be this confident, but they all kinda fear that Steve will just throw them out of the plane if they open their mouths.
Did Peter mention that Steve is very on-edge right now? Yes? Good. Because it kind of scares him.
Their surprise tactic works because they actually surprise the HYDRA agents. Most of them scatter away to reach their guns – one has some type of crossbow, which, well is pretty cool but it has also managed to pierce through one of Sam’s wings before, so maybe it’s not that cool after all – while the rest try to get away. One of those is the one Steve is hell-bent on getting because he’s not only the leader of this small group, but he’s also the one who was the most involved with Bucky. The one who still frequently appears in his nightmares.
The one who isn’t allowed to get away no matter what.
“Spider-Man, with me!” Steve barks as he charges after the guy and Peter doesn’t question it. That’s the entire point of why he’s here: because of his webs and keeping people from getting away without hurting (or killing) them.
Following Steve isn’t as easy as Peter likes it to be, because the HYDRA agents with the weapons are pretty set on helping their leader get away. Crossbow Guy loses a lot of coolness points for firing arrows at him. Three times some bullets manage to cut his webs. His spidey sense is going crazy and he’s so busy dodging all the attacks that he has a hard time following Steve through the maze of tunnels.
Peter wants to ask him to slow down, to let him know how much trouble he’s having following (which in itself is something very embarrassing to admit), but again: he’s kinda afraid of Steve’s reaction.
However, before Peter can get over his pride, a bullet hits him in the stomach. He doesn’t even get the chance to scream as he falls to the ground and loses consciousness.
“Anyone got eyes on Spider-Man?” Tony asks as he shoots another HYDRA agent with his repulsors. He lost that little bit of feeling bad about hurting them a long time ago.
“He’s supposed to be with Steve,” Natasha answers from somewhere, sounding a bit strained – which is never a good sign.
Tony bites his tongue to not swear. Leaving Peter in Steve’s care in his current state isn’t sitting completely right with Tony, but he didn’t want to create more tension by bringing it up. “Steve, where’s Peter?”
“What?” Steve asks back and he sounds way too distracted.
A bad feeling settles in the pit of Tony’s stomach. “Where’s Peter?”
“He’s not- shit.”
Tony is off flying towards Steve’s coordinates before his brain can even catch up with it.
And not a second too late.
Tony feels his heart stop when he arrives at the scene. Steve, kneeling in a pool of blood over a limp body, pressing his hands against the stomach.
A pool of Peter’s blood and Peter’s limp body.
He wants to throw up. Then, he decides than he can throw up once he makes sure that Peter is actually alive to scrunch up his face in disgust about it.
Steve scoots away from Peter as soon as he notices Tony, taking his hands away as Tony orders FRIDAY to apply the special formula to stop bleeding wounds that he and Peter created together over the last few months by poking the kid’s web formula. It’s still very much experimental and Tony would’ve preferred to test it in literally any other setting than this.
There are a million questions racing through his head (why didn’t he get a notification when he got shot? Why hasn’t he made Peter’s suit bullet-proofed yet? How fast can he travel to the compound with Peter like this?), but there’s only one he manages to press out between his teeth. “How could you let this happen?”
“I was chasing after Miller and I just… got distracted.”
Tony can’t stand to look at Rogers, actually concerned that he might jump up and throttle him if he does. Instead, he pushes Peter’s mask up, lying a hand against his way too pale face. He knows this image will haunt him in his nightmares for the next years.
“You were supposed to look after him.”
“I was supposed to catch-”
With a white-burning anger inside him, Tony’s head snaps up to Rogers, not believe that the man has the audacity to argue with him about this right now. Rogers leans back a little bit. “What happened to the importance of teamwork that you like to preach so much about, huh?”
Rogers doesn’t answer. Not that Tony gives him any chance to. As soon as FRIDAY lets him know that the wound has been sealed and that it’s safe to move Peter, he gathers him up in his arms and straightens to his full height, face plate snapping back down. “I’m all for kicking HYDRA in their asses, but I won’t allow my kid being some collateral damage in your vendetta.”
And with those words, Tony blasts off, holding Peter as close as he can.
Tag list: @joyful-soul-collector @sheabeeprime @spideyspeaches @zanderljones @jelly-pies @ftopbn @lost-lunar-wolf @peter-is-a-bean @a-moon-fairy @mrs-potts-stark @supernoetta @glorified-red @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @thecrazymarvelfan @hatakehikari @aixabi @sublimedragonherohumanoid @bittersweetbeneath @vintervittrannerd @anarinette @always-loki @zetasaturno99 @sdottkrames @potter-turn-to-page-394 @doctordumblesstark @its-funnier-when-you-say-it @fangirl485 @gaycinnamonrollgirl @bettyadinnye @0adore0 @loveliestdisappointment @lunars--world @just-things-things @chaos-with-a-pen @onlyonepotatochip
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“I cannot believe this is what you and your aunt agreed to,” Tony muttered staring at the broken down truck that the teenager had pulled up to the compound in. How he had even made it that far without the thing falling apart, Tony would never know. “Please tell me this is a joke.”
“Not at all,” Peter grinned, wiping sweat from his forehead on the back of his sleeve. Apparently, the rust bucket didn’t even have a working AC, if the flush that crossed over his intern’s face was anything to go by. “I figured it’d be a project.”
“A project? Peter, this is a death trap!”
“Please,” The teenager snorted slapping the hood of the vehicle as he rounded to stand by his mentor. “And Iron Man isn’t?”
Tony didn’t even get a chance to balk as the smaller brunette reached into the bed of the truck and pulled out his bag.
“Tony,” Pepper stepped out onto the porch. Sleep crusted her green eyes as she glanced around for her husband. “What on earth are you doing?” She yawned stepping down onto the dry pine needles that littered and coated their driveway.
“I’m fixing it,” Tony muttered, pulling himself from under the rusted hood of the very same Chevy S10 that Peter had driven up in a little over five years ago. “Gotta get it ready for him.” He turned to his wife, lips pulled into a tight smile. Pepper tried to match it, but there was an underlying grief that reached into her own eyes. “He’ll be excited when he sees it.”
“I’m sure he will.” Pepper leaned against the driver side door, watching as her husband reached around in one of the tool wagons for something. “But he won’t be happy that you’ve been up for over seventy two hours to fix it. Besides, don’t you think he’d like to help you with it too?”
“I’ll let him pick the colors,” Tony turned back to his wife. His hands trembled as they held a small red and blue cloth that had seen its fair share of oil stains. “Or maybe I’ll paint it red and gold. He was an Iron Man fan after all.”
“I think he’ll be a little tired of seeing red after all of this.” Pepper hummed softly.
“They had to draw more blood?” Tony frowned glancing up. It had been a good three months since the second snap—the very snap that Tony had intended to do himself. The self sacrificial teenager known as Peter Parker had other plans though. He had reached out, grasping onto Tony’s arm that wielded the stones, and absorbed half of the shock that should have killed the inventor. Instead, it had taken both of their arms, and sent both of its victims into shock. Tony—having been a normal human that had succumbed to shock before—had recovered significantly faster. Peter, however, seemed to be struggling with everything a bit. The teenager had been in and out of a hospital, and under the sharp vigil of Cho and his Aunt. Both of which, were convinced that everything was going to be alright.
Tony disagreed though. He had a sinking suspicion that something was very very wrong with his kid. Not that Peter would ever confirm it, or even complain about it. But the inventory knew; the loud silence told him everything that he needed to know.
“Yea,” Pepper nodded softly, bringing a hand up to rub at Tony’s shoulder softly. “They’re checking on his DNA. To see if something more serious is going on. I asked May if it would be okay for us to make a visit.”
Tony tensed a bit. He shouldn’t be scared about seeing the teenager. He should see the living brunette version of the kid he had helped pull off the battlefield. And yet, every time he had prepared himself to walk into the room after Peter’s first surgery, Tony only saw the motionless body. The swaying hair that had been covered in blood that oozed down his face.
“I figure, if you can get this thing up and running, Morgan and I could follow you in our car?”
“We could move back to the city for a while. Just until he’s healed?”
“Maybe.” Tony sighed again, dragging his hand over his face.
“He’s alive Tony,” Pepper reached out, brushing the back of her hand over Tony’s jaw. “We didn’t lose him.”
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meeting peter parker for the first time would include
you’re the new kid at school
and once peter sees you
he can’t keep his eyes off of you
you’re assigned the seat next to him
“i-i i’m peter,”
“you can sit with me at lunch if you’d like”
you don’t speak much in class
but at lunch the two of you talk like crazy
you have so much in common
peter blushes every time you look him in the eye
ned eventually joins you both
“you know i’m here too guys”
you both get embarrassed
peters thigh accidentally bumps yours
“oh i- i didn’t mean to, sorry”
“that’s okay, peter”
ned just rolls his eyes
“get a room you two”
he walks to your next class
and passes you a note before saying bye
“it was really great meeting you, maybe text me later” with his number on the back
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Sorry for the abrupt change in content.... I haven’t had a whole lot of time to read comics lately so my posts have been lacking. Anyway, here’s a MCU idea that hit me out of the blue today.
Okay, so you all know that one scene in Homecoming where Peter’s teacher says;
And then in far from home we get this;
And we know that the Thanos snap in Infinity War happened during a school field trip.
So that means this teacher has had at least three (maybe four if the first one he was talking about in Homecoming was serious) major life-threatening events occur during field trips. The poor guy must have major issues when it comes to being in charge of kids.
It’s a wonder they let him chaperone anymore.
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‘I wish you would write___’ a story where everyone realizes just how scary smart Peter is but he holds himself back because he's afraid the bullying will get worse or it will just bring too much attention to himself.
“You know, your little friends would lose their little minds if they find out that you’re proof-reading Tony Stark’s papers,” Tony comments as he looks over the little notes Peter wrote next to his text.
Even without looking, Tony knows Peter’s face must be as red as a tomato. “First of all, I’m not really proof-reading your stuff, I’ll just go over it, so you can tell Miss Potts that someone looked over it and confirm that you didn’t write it five minutes before you handed it in.”
“Why do you make me sound like a typical college student?”
“Because you kinda are?”
Tony snorts, but he’s not letting this go. “Give yourself some credit, kid. You deserve it. Because you understand what I’m talking about in these papers, and there are, like, five other people on the entire planet who do. If you wanted, you already could have graduated from MIT.”
“That would mean I would have to get a job. Besides, you’re exaggerating.”
“Would I ever do something like that?”
“All the time.” Tony wants to point out that he’s not exaggerating now, but Peter simply shrugs, opening his latest web fluid project. “ I don’t mind it. Everyone thinking I’m smarter than them wouldn’t exactly get me more friends.”
“You deserve the recognition, Peter.”
“I also deserve to survive a day at school without gettin shoved into a locker. But those things don’t go hand in hand.”
Tony grimaces, already working on a plan how to give Peter both of those things, while the kid is chatting away about a new web formula.
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