#the grown ups stressing over the universe AND the spider kid

[xenocorner]

Supreme family? I don't know her, all I know is Team Well, Shit.

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

[blushing-starker]

don't expect that line I previously mentioned because I'm chaotic and forgot about @starkerfestivals amazing omegaverse week since it goes hand in hand with finals and my brain only fit one of these events in my mental planner

Today's theme is heat/rut and it's slightly nff, has some sexual teasing but nothing too explicit. I'd rate this teen, is all I'm saying. I apologize for any writing mistakes, I'm finishing this at 11pm before collapsing in my bed.

Tagging @vaguekiwi cuz I mentioned this to her today

Needy little alpha

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

Tony wakes up to a purring alpha throwing himself on top of his defenseless body with the force of a freight train driven by a drunk man on drugs. Peter's been told a thousand times before how yes, he may be as heavy as a goddamn feather, but it still aches when that super strength plops down and refuses to let the victim's lungs function adequately. But his boyfriend is a sadist who loves cuddles and making Tony suffer.

"No."

"You love my cuddles," it's true, they bring him pain and purple bruises everywhere but there's nothing quite as soothing as a content alpha kneading like a kitten at his chest, " and you know it. "

"Uh, that's false. Never said I love cuddles. I tolerate your octopus habits, there's a difference." Peter leans back with a pout and teary eyes, wobbles that God forsaken bottom lip like he always does whenever Tony denies the kid something and presents a challenge.

Nimble fingers slide up into, unfortunately, silver hair and nonononono that's unfair. He snarls, tries to infuse the air with as many displeased pheromones as possible so Peter can take a hint when nails scratch right above his nape and Tony's done. Unravels at this hobgoblin's feet and he's half way sure his soul goes out in a huff as little circles are pressed into the exact spot that causes him so much neck pain.

Peter unashamedly preens when Tony melts into their bed and starts pawing at him for more cuddles. "Say you love my cuddles and I won't leave the bed for an hour. Throw in a kiss and I'll rub your back."

He hates(loves) this kid. Hates(loves) how he sing songs as soon as the situation doesn't favour the actually responsible adult in the relationship. Hates(loves) the way Peter never misses the places that leave him sinking into fluffy pillows. Hates how, oh that's nice.

There are tiny kisses littered on a chest glowing blue, small indentations from teasing lips pressed into spread arms and cold hands.

"Ruts gotten you needy, huh, little alpha?" Not that this one was any different from all the other ruts they've shared since dating. Tony secretly adores Peter like this, extra affectionate the minute his shyness and fear of outside criticism is washed away, replaced with the need to shower his omega in love and attention. Yes, Peter has his heart 365 days of the year. Yes, he'd die for his tiny spiderling no matter what.

But this is just really nice, ok? Previous lovers were rarely alphas so this ritual of gluing their bodies together when rut came was an added benefit to being with Peter. That and the hormones he let out while happy soothed Tony to no end.

Peter nips at his finger, still a bit too early on for him to accept the nicknames. He blushes though, a pale pink highlighting a face much more lovely than the cherubs painted on the cathedrals of Rome. Jesus, he's whipped and all they've done is cuddle.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I love your cuddles. Cherish them. Want them every day for the rest of my life. But I love you, my needy little alpha with a fantastic," there's a pillow smashed against his face.

"If you say dick, I'm climbing down to wrestle Bucky and I won't let Karen record it for your spank bank. " Oh, that's a low blow.

He relaxes, let's Peter sink into him with a startled yelp, rolls them over, sits on the kid's lap and clamps his knees around a trim waist. Peter may be Spider-Man, but he's Tony Stark and Tony Stark doesn't lose in bed.

Well. Not unless he wants to.

"You do that and you can say hello to your toy, the one I know is stashed in your old room under the bed in a comic book box, because that'll be the only thing helping you out when the rut really hits." Will Tony suffer immensely if that happens? Yes. He's a sucker for a needy Peter being ridiculously horny and possessive. Thing is, you don't threaten a man's spank bank. No sir. Everything else is fair play. His carefully organized folders of viewing material are not to be messed with.

Peter's blush is on full blast, spreads over a long neck and absolutely delicious, no. Be strong, Tony.

"You know about the toy?" It's a squeak, normal voice rocketing upwards thanks to the position Tony's ass is in and the knowledge that his secret is out. Which wasn't even a secret to begin with anyway because Tony is in love with the only genius not smart enough to erase his browser history in the lab's computer. Which Tony uses. Routinely. Every day.

"Know about it? I've seen it. You left it out once, all used up on your bed while you were showering. You remember that, don't you? We had sex in the bathroom that day. Bruised my back and everything?"

Peter furrows his brow, works a plush lip and no, look away, Tony, look away. The kid is sin and indulgence and heaven and no.

"Oh. Oh." Whenever he thinks his boy can't go any redder, Peter busts out a new shade of pink.

"Yup. So. I'm pretty sure this is what you wanted in the first place. Maybe it wasn't your intention," he stresses when Peter's already launching up and nearly throwing him off in an attempt to reassure Tony that wasn't his purpose with the cuddles, "but you certainly wouldn't have minded this outcome. And by this outcome I mean my incredible ass on top of that fantastic dick."

Peter tries to suffocate with a pillow held over his face.

"You've got two choices, kid. You threatened the spank bank. The teasing is fine, you know I love when my pretty kitty shows his claws," a hand slaps his arm, makes him grin, " But threatening such an integral part of my mental stability? Wrong move, Queens. You aren't getting any until tonight, not even so much as a French kiss will be given. Unless you let me bite a mark on that amazing neck and don't push me away when I nuzzle you in front of the team. "

Well. Now he's definitely being thrown off of Peter's lap.

He lands on the other side of the bed with a groan, is assaulted by a whining Peter intent on receiving something to further postpone the urge for sex that's sure to hit him soon enough.

An alpha, Tony's learned, will usually be very cuddly and affectionate the first few days of a rut week. Then the possessive, protective side will slowly emerge. Nests of pillows, couch cushions, blankets and favorite pieces of clothing appear on the fourth sunrise. The next morning comes with the need for relief, for intimacy and a marathon of sex that'll leave any supersoldier exhausted by the end of it. The resulting days offer comfort, an aftercare of sorts, where the alpha and their partner show a soft affection similar to the beginning. Nests are utilized and bodies soothed. It lasts, at most, a week and the majority of the population only has to take slightly increased portions of food.

That's for people without the metabolism of four grown men.

Peter needs sex, as much as possible, so the itch for urgent intimacy doesn't result in Tony tackled to the floor of the lab in the middle of an experiment every day of the week. It's like giving him nicotine patches instead of a cigarette.

So now he's whimpering, tugging on Tony's clothes just a little too hard if the ripping sound is any indication.

"...sorry, Tony..."

"It's fine, I've got more. I'm not letting this go though. The teams' seen us fuck against a wall, their opinion and respect, your worth, didn't change. So come on. Just one little mark. One. And Bucky nuzzles Steve and Sam all the time. Hell, Pepper sometimes nuzzles me when I'm stressed out. Please, baby? "

There it was; Tony's secret weapon. Peter blushed like a virgin on a wedding night whenever he used pet names, but the genius knows his boyfriend enjoys the familiarity and subtle intimacy. Felt reassured that they were a romantic couple and not a mentor fucking his protege.

The kid nibbles at his neck, wraps gangly limbs around a body that's always been his to take comfort in. "Just one mark? And light, I mean it, Tony, light nuzzling in front of the team. For today. Then I can get what I want?"

He snorts, can't fully comprehend how the universe paired him up with someone so intent on making Tony's joints ache and creak. "Yeah, we can have sex later, Mr Charming. Subtle as brick, that Spider-Man. Let's go get you cleaned up, make sure that rut has a hard time getting my boy under the weather."

He goes to get up. He leans forward. He cannot, in fact, leave the bed.

Peter bites with a bit more pressure, drops his hips down harder and Jesus Christ, they're never seeing the light of the kitchen if his boyfriend can't wait til it's dark.

"Or..."

"I'm an old man, I need protein before you go jumping tired bones that have to spend two hours updating your suit." Ok, so maybe he's slightly bitter and annoyed at not having enough stamina (or refractory period, for that matter) to keep up with a repressed teenage superhuman. It's not his fault Pepper keeps bringing Krispy Kreme donuts to the office meetings.

It'd be rude not to eat with the others anyway.

"You don't have to do anything." Ah, it's one of those ruts.

Tony softens, smoothes a hand down a back that could hold a plank under a five story building with ease, kisses a heated cheek.

"Needy little alpha." It's his turn to whisper and nuzzle against soft skin.

"Kind, not so little omega?" Tony laughs, presses their lips together so Peter can see what's it like to taste a smile radiating with joy and love. Slowly clicks the button on the nearest nightstand; unless someone is dying , it'll just be the two of them in the room.

(There was an incident once. Groot may have been traumatized by a situation involving superstrength, webs and the Ironette costume Tony only adored when it adorned Peter's body.)

"I do so love my needy little alpha needing me, don't I?"

His boyfriend blinks, grins at Tony as if he's just hung the moon and stars for his spiderling and ok, a little sex early in the morning isn't that bad.

"You love my cuddles too."

"Shut up and kiss me, Queens. I'm not getting any-"

They don't talk about anything too important after that.

----------

A little sex early in the morning actually is that bad when you miss a meeting with the U.N and show up smelling like sex, infatuation and, oddly enough, strawberry.

Rocket doesn't stop teasing for months.

[elisela]

Hi! I heard you have some angsty ideas for Allison/Derek/Stiles universe. I love good angsty feelings with happy ending of course. So if you want to share some ideas, headcanons, stories, or just anything with them I would be happy to read them. You’re incredible and amazing writer and this universe is so good!!! Have a good day

maybe i’m amazed verse

ah crap chapel is gonna kill me if i start with the angst lmao. lots of my angst is stiles-centric because i was Going Through It the other day and once again as someone who has lost a parent i have a lot of feelings about milestones when it comes to him anyway i'm gonna try to balance the angst out with some happier things at the end

it's not like the idea of derek and allison getting married is new to him. it's been a conversation that has grown and evolved over literal years, but the end result has never changed. they've both told him that they're fine not getting married if it bothers him at all, and it doesn't. it really doesn't, because it's just supposed to be for legal reasons, because allison's family is fucking psycho and because they want to have kids one day and because there are financial benefits--he gets it. it doesn't bother him.

until he's three weeks into the night-shift he got switched to because of staffing issues and 90% of his clothes are dirty and he's too tired to wash them so he pulls one out of derek's drawer and he finds a fucking ring box.

he's been tired and stressed lately, and staying awake watching movies alone while allison and derek sleep in their bed has been getting to him but he's still got at least two months where he's on nights so it's not getting any better, and his dad--who has at least always been kind to derek and allison despite not understanding their relationship at all--had been dropping questions about if stiles was sure this is what he wanted in the wake of scott and lydia's engagement. and stiles--he's not so sure, staring at the ring box he didn't know about, thinking about derek and allison getting married and having adorable dark haired babies. right there, in that moment, it's a little too easy to imagine them without him

he doesn't want to tell allison that derek has a ring, so after a few weeks he ends up tells them he just needs some time to think about things and clamps down on all the things that roll around in his head when he's anxious and down, ignores the way allison's eyes get shiny when she pushes him for answers and the blank, impassive look on derek's face that's always spoke volumes when he pulls her out of stiles' way and tells her to let him go.

allison visits his dad's place a few times and stiles pretends to be sleeping or gone for the most part; derek doesn't come at all, which is why stiles just stares at him in surprise when the throws open the door expecting scott nearly a month later. he misses him desperately, and the way derek's shoulders are hunched slightly forward makes him seem so small that stiles ends up blurting out all his anxiety and every self-loathing thought he's had for the last two months.

he doesn't swear he's fine with it after that, after they sit down and really talk about it again. he still understands the benefits and knows they should go through with it, but he's open about it on the days it bothers him and they have a lot of conversations about how to navigate his insecurity and the feeling of loss it brings up, although he regrets that on the days that allison suggests having a ceremony for the three of them because--no. he's not doing that.

(on their wedding day they say vows to him, quiet and right into his ear, after they say their vows to each other. he will deny to his dying day that he teared up)

jesus that got long i should have just written it lmao. uh here are some random not angsty ones!

laura likes to tease derek by telling him that he clearly misread the definition because bisexual doesn't mean having both at the same time.

stiles is mostly joking about being irritated that allison likes to steal his shirts until he opens his drawer one day to find she took the last one. after that he starts hiding one piece of her clothing just to get back at her every time she takes something of his.

it will never stop being funny to allison that out of the two of them, stiles is the designated spider catcher. derek eyes them warily and refuses to leave the room until they're taken care of so he can make sure they don't escape.

stiles' favorite thing is coming home to derek and allison singing 80s rock songs loudly in the kitchen.

allison and stiles have tattoos that they got just after the wedding that say "i am my beloved's" / "my beloved is mine".

[supercasey]

Dumb thoughts on the Child Avatars AU

I dunno, just some dumb ideas I’ve had since I started talking about the AU online/brainstorming about it. (Putting it under a readmore for everyone’s sake)

The “Daisy kidnaps Jon” situation in this AU is Daisy riding her bike to Simon Fairchild’s mansion, holding a water-gun up to both Mike and Jon’s heads, and ordering them to ride with her to the grocery store to buy soda and hang out at a nearby playground for the day. Cue Elias flipping tf out when Jon isn’t at Simon’s place when he goes to pick him up later, Simon being half asleep because he was napping while the kids hung out, and Mike getting soaked by Daisy before he agrees to go with her, and since this happens in, like, late fall or early winter, he gets pneumonia afterwards and can’t hang out for awhile, leading to the kids jokingly saying he’s dead. Btw the only reason the trio was found is because Basira was invited after they made it to the park, and she convinced Daisy to let the boys go home. Daisy literally only kidnapped them because she wanted to play with someone.

Also the Buried!Daisy arc is Daisy getting eaten by a Buried controlled sandbox and Jon jumping in after her. The rest of the kids, who thankfully witnessed this, spent the next three hours digging for them, with Breekon & Hope eventually joining in to help since they were in the area. Daisy and Jon form a trauma bond afterwards and are now best friends.

Jon keeps getting marked by shit and it’s stressing Elias out because hE’S NOT READY FOR THE WATCHER’S CROWN YET!!! He needs more time to prepare, but his son is literally getting marked faster than fucking Sonic.

Speaking of Sonic, seeing as the “Console Wars” (Sega vs Nintendo) are happening during this time period, the kids take the rivalry Very Seriously. The biggest arguments are had between Sasha, Daisy, Julia, and Mike, who are all on Team Sega, and Jon, Martin, Tim, and Danny, who are all on Team Nintendo.

Sasha, close to tears she’s so angry: “Sega DO what NintenDON’T, Tim!!!”

When Martin was born, he only had one thick clump of curly hair that was white, but as he’s grown older and entered the Lonely multiple times, more of his hair has begun to turn white. As of the time of the AU “starting” (so when he’s 8 years old), he looks like he has white highlights in his hair.

Trevor isn’t a fully-fledged Hunt avatar yet, but the girls more or less are, so if you’ve ever watched Wolf Children, that’s pretty much the situation Trevor is currently trapped in. His daughters keeping changing into wolf pups and running wild as he frantically tries to hide their powers from anyone who isn’t Gerry.

(All of the kids secretly know already, even Basira.)

Basira is pretty much the only “normal” kid of the avatar children, save MAYBE for Tim, but he’s been deeply marked by the circus and has a few tiny powers (think S3 Jon as he was figuring out some of his powers, but wasn’t a full-on Archivist just yet).

The season 1 gang (including Danny) are the closest group of friends in the AU, save for Daisy and Basira’s friendship, and they hang out a lot at each other’s homes on the weekends.

Adelard usually brings Jane with him for his “trips” away from the institute, so it’s not unusual for her to be gone for long periods of time. But she always sends postcards and gifts to the institute for everyone!

Helen is three years old, so theoretically she should be able to talk, but she rarely does so, preferring to communicate via giggles and laughter. Only Jon, the Stoker brothers, and Michael can understand her, and they take turns translating for everyone else.

Whenever she’s brought to the institute, Helen takes to toddling around after Jon and Martin, giggling up a storm the whole time. Jon finds it a bit annoying while Martin is endlessly amused by her antics.

A list of the guardian’s/adult’s ages before I fucking forget (as of when the AU “starts” in 1994): Gertrude Robinson - 62, Elias Bouchard “Jonah Magnus” - 51 (200+), Peter Lukas - 55, Simon Fairchild - 83 (300+), Gerard “Gerry” Keay - 30, Michael Shelley - 32, Alfred Grifter - Unknown, Adelard Dekker - 48, Nikola Orsinov - 30ish (100+), Annabelle Cane - 34 (Unknown), Trevor Herbert - 47, Agnes Montague - 25ish (60+), Jude Perry - 35, Jared Hopworth - 29, The Admiral - 10.

The “good” parents all keep trying to set up some kind of PTA meeting so they can actually talk about how to raise these supernatural kids properly, but it keeps going horribly wrong; last time they tried, Alfred Grifter and his band showed up and nearly made Simon go deaf, so no one wants to initiate the next attempt at a meeting.

Tbh, at this point the Fear rituals are more successful than Elias’s shitty attempts at forming a PTA.

At some point in the AU Gerry, Michael, and Trevor all pitch in to buy a decently big house together, which leads to some serious Shenanigans now that Melanie is around Michael and Trevor’s kids/wards... let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of knife related accidents.

Gerry taught Melanie how to fight when he took her in and it is the single worst decision he’s ever made in his short, goth life, even if he’ll never admit it. Melanie can now beat the shit out of everyone but Julia and Daisy, and it’s pure chaos every time. Tim puts up a decent fight, but he’s been spoiled on easy wins over his brother all his life. Jon tries and fails to so much as push her. Martin runs away crying before Melanie even throws the first punch. Needless to say, the other kids are very cautious about playing with Melanie now.

None of the kids have an education of any kind except for Mike. I’m serious; the only kid who’s decently educated is being raised by Foxy Grandpa Off His Shits McGee! Julia and Daisy have had some public education but not much, Elias refuses to do anything but home-school Jon yet he sucks shit at math, Tim and Danny don’t even know what a school fucking looks like, Melanie and Jane were too young to go to school when they became avatars, Martin has only recently been allowed near other kids so fuck public school (Peter can do math but Nothing Else), Annabelle fucking forgot to give Sasha any kind of an education outside of Web stuff, and Helen is still a very small child. None of these kids have gone to school for more than a few years at most and dear g-d is that gonna suck for them later down the line.

As a result of this, Basira has taught the other kids a few things when she’s come over and insisted on playing “school” with everyone, but she’s still just a kid and can’t always get them to pay attention during her lessons.

Because of this Rosie, Gerry, Michael, and Gertrude have all started making an effort to more or less home-school all of the kids, which has gone... well enough, I suppose. However, things have recently taken a weird turn since Jon keeps giving everyone the answers to assignments/tests via telepathy.

Jon: Whoa, you can make tea all by yourself, Martin!? Martin: Yeah, I’ve been doing it by myself since I was a toddler. I can also do laundry, mop floors, vacuum, and cook a few things, too! Tim: Wow, that’s really cool, Martin! I wish I could do stuff like that. Gertrude, off to the side: *Gives Peter a horrified look* I’m sorry, but did Martin just say he’s been making tea on his own since he was a toddler? Peter:  ╮(╯ _╰ )╭  Unfortunately, I’m severely depressed.

Yeeeeeeeah, Martin’s in a similar childhood situation to his canon one, but at least there are people actually willing to help him out of it in this universe. Also, Peter will clean himself up at some point here, he’s just still dealing with more or less disowning himself from his family and learning hoe to not be so lonely.

Speaking Of Which, the Lukas family are pretty big antagonists in this AU, primarily through Peter’s mother (I’ll come up with a name for her later if I can’t find it on the wiki), who is trying to kidnap Martin and more or less feed him to the Lonely so Peter will get over his “childish feelings” and return to being her favorite child.

And yes, she DOES accidentally kidnap Jon instead at some point... this kid can literally not avoid getting kidnapped.

I like to think Mike and Julia are really good friends in this AU, being the closest in age and all. They hang out a lot since their dads are both so chill and won’t get upset about it, the two of them mostly just playing video games, watching movies, and biking around their respective neighborhoods together.

(Also they may or may not be responsible for a statement that involves a woman seeing a “flying wolf” passing over London... they’ve yet to confess to it, but Elias is dead certain they’re behind the incident.)

The worms incident is 100% Jane’s secret worm collection getting fucking loose... she was keeping them in the walls “for safe keeping” and No One Fucking Knew, not even Elias, until Jon saw a spider, punched the wall, and Revealed them.

Jon and Tim got their scars because Jane lost control of the worms and they burrowed into the kids. Cue a very panicked 999 call from someone in the institute and Child Services almost getting involved, but Elias managed to cover it up.

Afterwards, Jon is incredibly self-conscious about his worm scars, but Martin tells him “now we both have freckles!” and it honestly makes him feel a little better about the whole thing.

Also Adelard makes an effort to track down a child psychologist/counselor with institute ties so he can get Jane some therapy/help controlling her powers. He loves her to the moon and back, and he’s terrified of her getting traumatized by what she accidentally did.

During the incident, a Notthem gets loose from Artifact Storage and attacks Sasha, but seeing as Sasha is of the Web and the Notthem is connected to a Web artifact, it only manages to really hurt her, but thankfully not kill her. She ends up hospitalized for a few weeks, but comes out fine later on. The table mysteriously disappears afterwards, and no one knows if it was Gertrude or Annabelle’s doing, but either way, the kids never have to deal with a Notthem again.

At some point I wanna get into Jon’s paranoia in season 2 for this AU, but I’m considering changing it from being because of the Jane Prentiss issue to be because of Mr. Spider almost killing him. I dunno how exactly it’ll play out, but I think it has a lot of potential!

Okay, before I end this post full of weird rambling ideas for the AU, I wanna make a list of the powers that the kids have at the time of the story “starting”/the ones they develop down the line because Jonny Sims himself said that all avatars have different powers, and I really wanna infodump on my thoughts for the kids!

Current powers of Jonathan Sims-Bouchard: Can simply know things whenever he wants to (so long as the Eye lets him, but the Eye sometimes keeps him from knowing anything he isn’t mature enough to handle), can compel people to tell him things (the other kids are better at resisting it, and so are other people touched by the Eye), can survive on very little food if he’s fed mostly statements/other people’s trauma, can non-consensually feel the pain and emotions of the people around him, has some weak telepathy powers, and he can subconsciously summon tape recorders.

Future powers of Jonathan Sims-Bouchard: Increased healing abilities, can know most anything if he tries, ability to resist other Eye avatars’ compulsions, can survive purely off of statements/other people’s trauma, can choose whether or not to feel the pain and emotions of the people around him, has much stronger telepathy powers than before, can force himself into people’s minds and read their thoughts, and he can summon tape recorders at will (though some still show up without his knowledge sometimes).

Current powers of Martin Blackwood-Lukas: Can disappear into the Fog for several hours at a time (he cannot be seen by anyone but other Lonely avatars while in the fog), can summon clouds of fog that he can momentarily hide things in (including people), can “banish” most anyone into the fog, and has “Sea Captain Eyes” (he knows where the Tundra is at all times, and can lead someone to it without a map or compass).

Future powers of Martin Blackwood-Lukas: Can change his hair color at will (only to red, white, and a mix of the two colors), can see much better in the Fog and can find anyone he’s pushed into it, can more or less teleport using the Fog, and he has what’s more or less a pocket dimension of fog for storage/hiding his friends from danger (think the inside of Gems in Steven Universe).

Current powers of Tim Stoker-Orsinov: Can make small bipedal toys “come to life” for a few minutes at a time (they can’t talk or communicate; only move around and perform small tasks/dances), can tell when a Notthem is masquerading as someone else, is supernaturally talented at gymnastics, and can dance alongside the creatures of the Stranger without being fully corrupted by them.

Future powers of Tim Stoker-Orsinov: Better control over the powers he already has as well as a high tolerance for the Spiral.

Current powers of Danny Stoker-Orsinov: Can order around creatures of the Stranger against their will, can tell when a Notthem is masquerading as someone else, can dance alongside the creatures of the Stranger without being fully corrupted by them, is supernaturally talented at gymnastics, and can change his voice to anything he likes (not always intentionally, though).

Future powers of Danny Stoker-Orsinov: Can more or less “teleport” to other circus locations by walking into theaters, can now change his voice to whatever he likes with his knowledge and consent, can take over as the Stranger’s ringmaster if necessary, can trigger a mesmerizing dance whenever he’d like, and has a high tolerance for the Spiral.

Current powers of Sasha James-Cane: Can communicate with spiders and have them send messages to other Web avatars, can read minds if she tries really hard, can “trap“ other entities in large webs that she can summon (takes a lot of energy), and she has Spider-Man-like abilities (can walk on walls and ceilings, can carry much more than her weight should allow, etc).

Future powers of Sasha James-Cane: Can now read minds without too much effort, can navigate almost any area that’s being controlled/influenced by the Web, can create webs without nearly as much effort as before, can transform her body to have more arms, legs, and eyes, and she now has venomous fangs (which can thankfully be controlled and/or hidden).

Current powers of Alice “Daisy” Tonner: Can turn into a wolf at will/when she’s especially emotional, can smell blood from several miles away, and has supernatural senses/physical abilities.

Future powers of Alice “Daisy” Tonner: Can now track most any monster she’s hunting once she gets at least one good look at them, can communicate with other Hunters via howling, and can navigate the Buried if needed (though this is very triggering for her and will cause her to pass out afterwards).

Current powers of Julia Montauk: Can turn into a wolf at will/when she’s especially emotional, can smell blood from several miles away, has supernatural senses/physical abilities, can track most any monster if she knows their name, can communicate with other Hunters via howling, and she can shift into a bipedal werewolf when she feels like she’s in danger.

Future powers of Julia Montauk: All of her previous powers have drastically improved, plus she has better control of them now.

Current powers of Basira Hussain: She has common fucking sense, something almost none of the other children have.

Future powers of Basira Hussain: She common sense AND she has a werewolf GF now. :) ((No dating for the babies, not until they’re at least teenagers))

Current powers of Melanie King-Grifter: Can listen to Grifter’s Bone without being damaged in any way, the music of Grifter’s Bone makes her powers exemplified for a period of time after she listens to it, the smell of blood triggers her to become violent, she can summon sharp weapons (knives, swords, etc) from thin air, and she can see a red aura around other people who have been marked by the Slaughter.

Future powers of Melanie King-Grifter: She has much better control of her abilities now, she can perform Grifter’s Bone songs for people and keep them from dying/going feral, and she can now also summon other weapons from thin air (guns, baseball bats, etc).

Current powers of Oliver Banks: Can see people’s deaths a week in advance via his dreams, he sees dark tentacles around people who are going to die soon, can see but not talk to ghosts, and he can smell death on anyone who’s undead/controlling other people’s bodies.

Future powers of Oliver Banks: Can raise the dead and control them to do his bidding (takes a lot of energy), can speak cat (not End related; Admiral related), and he can cause people to die within the week if he touches them in his dreams.

Current powers of Georgie Barker: Can see a “death countdown” over people who are going to die within the next thirty days, doesn’t feel any fear whatsoever, can see but not talk to ghosts, and she sees a dark sludge staining the clothes of people who have been marked by the End.

Future powers of Georgie Barker: Can bring people back to life for a minute or so by touching them (think Pushing Daisies type powers), can speak cat (not End related; Admiral is best cat dad), and she can communicate with ghosts much better now.

Current powers of Jane Prentiss-Dekker: Can summon bugs of most kinds from her mouth and under her fingernails, can communicate with bugs, and can fight off most diseases without any trouble.

Future powers of Jane Prentiss-Dekker: Can now completely control bugs via a hive mind effect, can summon bugs from anywhere on her body, has much stronger healing abilities than Jon, and she can see invisible bugs crawling on the skin of those who the Corruption wants her to get rid of (it’s hard for her not to give in to it’s desires).

Current powers of Mike Crew-Fairchild: Can levitate/fly at will, can summon clouds of any kind (rain, thunder, snow, etc) in any conditions, has much higher resistance to the weather/temperature, and he can “banish” people into the Vast at will.

Future powers of Mike Crew-Fairchild: Same as before, but with slightly better control than he had as a teenager.

Current powers for Helen Richardson-Shelley: Can change the world around her to be more like the Spiral (adding more doors, changing the colors of things, causing hallucinations, etc), can change any door into a doorway into the Spiral, and she can amplify her voice (very hard to control as a baby).

Future powers for Helen Richardson-Shelley: Can now summon doors that lead to the Spiral from thin air, has much better control over her powers and abilities than before, can morph her body to be longer and sharper at will, and she can “banish” people into the endless hallways of the Spiral.

((Holy shit, that took awhile))

Anyways, here’s a playlist I made for the AU, feel free to scream at me for my very weird taste in music: Pinky Swear That You Won’t Go Changing

[writeroutoftime]

fools rush in - chapter 1

pairing: peter parker x reader 

summary: when peter finds himself claiming to have a girlfriend that doesn’t exist, he turns to you for help even though the two of you are rivals in class 

warnings: not warnings, but peter is probably around 20/21 and this takes place in a universe where tony and nat are alive and everything is fine 

words: 1081

a/n: this is part of my submission for @ussgallifreyfics’s writing challenge, although my prompt isn’t until the very last chapter. this will be about 6 chapters, so let me know if you want to be tagged! (also, the amount of time I spent googling for a ‘biophysics’ question for the first few lines is probably a bit much lol.)

oOoOo

“And who can tell me what was successful about the concentration of simple molecules increasing?” Professor Shelby asked to the room.

“It increases – “ two voices spoke, and Peter turned back to look at his echo.

There was a silent stare down as you and Peter battled for the opportunity to answer the question, and as you saw Peter’s resolve weakening, you trained your eyes back on the professor. “It increases the diversity of chemical space, which allows for the formation of complex organic molecules.” you answered with a smile, one that you flashed at Peter.

“Well done, Miss. y/l/n.” Professor Shelby chuckled at the rivalry between her two brightest students. “That is all for today. Don’t forget that your proposals for a spot of an internship with me are due in 3 weeks. This is something you do not want to start the night before.” she reminded and dismissed the class.

Peter stood to collect his things but froze when he heard the professor call his name. “Mr. Parker, Miss. y/l/n, I look forward to seeing both of your proposals.” she said and walked out of the lecture hall.

Left stunned, Peter glanced to his right and saw the proud smile that had crossed your features as you ran to catch up with your friends. With his backpack slung over his shoulder, Peter made his way into the crisp, New York air and made the familiar journey back to the Avengers Tower. Since he had started college, he had decided to commute by living with Tony and Pepper at the tower during the week, while traveling back to Queens to be with May on the weekends.

Once inside, Peter flopped onto the nearest couch, tired from a long day of classes. He could hear Tony and Pepper in the kitchen, and he reluctantly pulled out his laptop to get a head start on some homework. Only when Natasha walked into the living area and greeted Peter with a “hey, kid” and a lazy grin did he look up.

“Hey, Nat.” he responded. Peter had come a long way from the shy 15-year old that he was when he first became Spider-Man and met the Avengers. By now, he was comfortable with the rest of the Avengers and found their presence to be comforting more often than not, although they still teased him relentlessly. 

It was only a moment later that Peter heard footsteps come from the kitchen, and soon Tony walked in carrying a tablet in his hand. “Kid. How’s NYU?” Tony asked, already knowing the answer. Tony had offered to put in outstanding letters of recommendation at MIT and Harvard, but Peter had wanted to stay local - to be with Aunt May and to keep being the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man.

“It’s great, Mr. Stark.” Peter said. While he had, for the most part, grown out of his awkward teenage years, he could never not call Tony ‘Mr. Stark.’

A small, genuine, smile graced Tony’s before he remembered what he originally came for. “I’m glad you’re here, kid. Pepper and I are hosting an anniversary gala, and you have been cordially invited.” he said with a flourish of his hand. 

Peter sat up straighter, looking surprised. “Oh, I’d love to go. When is it?” This wasn’t the first gala he had attended because of his connection to Tony, but it had been a while since the last one. 

“Two weeks from now.” he responded. “And I’m guessing you’re flying solo for this event?” Tony asked, scrolling through his tablet.

“Again.” Natasha mumbled as she walked back in, a cup of tea in hand.

“Hey!” Peter cried, indignantly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Both Avengers shared a look before Tony turned back to Peter. “I’m just saying that ever since MJ, you haven’t been on too many dates. Nothing wrong with that, but do you want me to set you up?” Tony asked.

“I don’t need to be set up.” Peter defended, feeling a blush in his cheeks.

It was true that ever since he and MJ broke up, he hadn’t been in another relationship. It wasn’t that he and MJ had this big fight that ruined dating for him, they just realized that with the stress of being at different colleges they worked better as friends. They still talked regularly, but Peter just hadn’t found the time to gone on many dates. As a biophysics major, he was constantly swamped with homework and battling you for the top spot in Professor Shelby’s class. Not to mention his internship proposal that he had due in three weeks – it had to be perfect if he wanted to chance at competing against you for the coveted spot of an internship with Professor Shelby.

“Sure.” Tony drawled. “You know what, you might be the only one there without a date, so I know a girl who-“

Desperately not wanting to be set up on a blind date by Tony, Peter blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “I already have a date! This girl I’ve been seeing.” he shouted, his voice a bit higher than normal. 

“Since when?” Tony questioned, his eyes narrow and voice filled with disbelief. 

“Since a couple months ago.” Peter said, though it sounded more a like a question than a definitive statement. 

There was a moment of silent as Tony tried to read Peter’s face and mannerisms. “And this is a real girl?”

“Yes, it’s a real girl.” Peter shot back.

“What’s her name?” 

“Huh?”

“What is her name?” Tony repeated, slower.

“Uh, her name. It’s um…y/n! Yeah, her name is y/n.” Peter shouted at first, then controlled himself when he repeated the name.

Natasha smirked as she inserted herself into the conversation. “Then you wouldn’t mind bringing her around soon? Of course, we want to meet this girl we know nothing about.”

“S-sure, I’ll bring her by next week.” Peter stuttered and quickly shoved his laptop into his backpack. “I have to go.” he said and bolted towards his room. 

Everything was fine his Peter’s mind until he flopped down onto his mattress and realized what he had said. Peter wasn’t sure why your name was the first that came to his mind, especially when some people would go as far to say that the two of your were rivals. 

“What the hell did I get myself into?” Peter groaned, not looking forward to the conversation he would have to have.

[until-theend-oftheline]

Pumpkins

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Squares Filled: Buying Flowers for No Reason @marvelfluffbingo​ 

Warnings: Pumpkins (but human and the actual ones) - Seb’s also kind of a warning but the best kind.   

Word Count: 2000ish

A/N:  This is part of my LLL Universe. It takes place about a week before Halloween 2019 but it can also as always be read as a one-shot.

Betaed by: the amazing @blacktithe7​ - thanks for helping out on short notice hon!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

You hadn’t been overly happy about all the meetings you had today, but the tour for “This Is Us” and your solo album didn’t plan itself. Your managers and every other person involved were busy too, so today had to be the day, even if it had been one of the last days Sebastian had home before traveling back and forth between Atlanta and New York began. That was life though, and luckily it was all over and done with now. You were just looking forward to spending the night with your family. 

You drew a sigh of relief when you walked through the door, closing your eyes as the feel and smell of home hit you. You slowly opened your eyes, and a smile spread across your face as you saw the huge bucket of flowers standing on the buffet cabinet in the hallway. It wasn’t unlike Sebastian to surprise you with something, but flowers were rare for some reason. You took a few steps forward to admire and smell them, and your smile only grew as you saw the card attached in the middle. You quickly snatched it and read it, smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt.

True love is friendship set on fire. 

Yours always and forever 

-Seb

Just like that, with a few simple words, the stress of the day washed off you completely, and nothing but pure happiness filled your chest. He always seemed to know exactly what you needed before you did. He was your best friend, and your heart truly was blazing with the love you felt for him now and every day. 

You lifted up the flowers gently, carrying them with you into the living room where you could really enjoy them. You smiled as you heard the laughter spreading through the house from the kitchen. You quickly set down the flowers, smelling them again and smiling before turning around to join your family in whatever they were doing to your kitchen.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them. You were expecting a mess. Sebastian wasn’t a world-class chef, but he made do in the kitchen. When he was joined by the kids, he lost his focus fast, and that showed more in the mess around them than it affected how much fun the kids were having or the general state of the food. You were fine with the occasional mess. You know the kids loved spending time with their daddy, and Sebastian was an amazing father. Which was more important than the momentarily suffering of your poor kitchen. 

You hadn’t expected no food being prepared though, and you certainly hadn’t expected everyone and everything to be orange. You didn’t say anything, and no one saw you. You just stood there with your mouth gaping open before shaking your head and smiling. You leaned against the doorway to watch your little family a moment longer. 

The floor, counters, and table were completely covered in pumpkin goo. Sebastian had goo in his hair and on his pants as he patiently helped Isabella carve out the drawing she had painted on her pumpkin, while she was babbling in his ear about the next drawing she was making in a smaller pumpkin. Her white dress was now more orange than white, and she had black marker on her cheek and pumpkin caught in her hair just like her dad. 

Alex was sitting on the table next to Sebastian. The little boy had a very gleeful look on his face as he was digging out the goo from a third or fourth or fifth pumpkin. The longer you looked, the more you lost count. Sebastian had clearly taken the kids shopping and hadn’t been able to say no when they went overboard. He had happily gotten the kids what you, this far, counted to be ten pumpkins, keeping the smile on their faces. He was a bit of a pushover at times, but the kids loved him. They were having fun, which was the most important thing. It wasn’t like you were going bankrupt from a few extra pumpkins, and you did have three balconies to put them on; so what the hell right?  

“Not on the floor, Monkey,” Sebastian attempted to keep some order to the chaos when Alex pushed the mountain of goo out of his way and onto the floor next to Seb and the chair Isabella was standing on. 

The warmth as you watched your family grew. As much as you wanted to jump in several times you were happy just watching from the sidelines as well. The love between your favorite three people in the world was more than evident, and you couldn’t get enough of seeing them together like this, making memories that would last a lifetime. It wasn’t until Alex pushed the goo onto the floor and Sebastian’s failed attempt at control the warm grew into a bubbling fire in your chest and you couldn’t help but giggle. All three of them quickly looked up and turning their heads to look at you walking up to them. 

“I think that ship sailed about three pumpkins ago,” you teased, making Sebastian rolled his eyes, understanding your joke even if the kids didn’t.  

“Mommy look,” Alex held up his small fists filled with pumpkin goo, before letting it splatter onto the table. Sebastian and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You’re very good at that, Monkey,” you giggled, kissing his chubby cheek, tasting the pumpkin and wrinkling your nose a little before turning your attention to Isabella. 

“Mommy look. I drew the one Daddy is carving, and Alex drew that one,” she pointed before jumping off the chair and taking your hand. “Daddy’s is really good though. Look, it’s a spider.” She said sounded impressed. You could see why too, Sebastian was quite the artist when he wanted to be. 

“They are all amazing, Isa.” You knelt down next to her letting her hug you, not caring you would soon be as orange as your little family. “I can’t wait to see them out on the balcony with lights in them. It’s gonna look amazing honey.”

“I think so too,” Isabella beamed giving you a kiss before crawling back onto the chair next to her dad. 

“Did you guys save me a pumpkin?” you asked, wrapping your arms around Seb’s middle from behind and resting your head against his arm, peeking around him. 

He smiled sheepishly, looking down at you. “There are still about eight in the bag over there,” he nodded towards the kitchen counter, and you threw your head back laughing. 

“We went a little overboard,” he admitted, as you shook your head, kissing his cheek.

“Only a little?” you teased as you went to pick out your own pumpkin and joining your son in making a mess emptying it. 

The four of you stayed in the kitchen for the next two hours. Laughing, making a mess, cutting and drawing until there were no more pumpkins but the two very alive ones on your tabletop.

“Right. Who wants pizza for dinner?” Sebastian asked with a grin, looking around the kitchen. He must have realized if the two of you had to clean it before starting dinner and then eating, it would be close to midnight before the kiddos got to bed. Pizza would spare you from having to cook, and it wouldn’t matter if cleaning the kitchen was all done before or after the kids were in bed. You could start now but finish later. 

“Meeeee,” Alex and Isa both bounced off the table and were dancing around their laughing dad, while you looked on with a smile. Your eyes meet Sebastian’s and you mouthed an “I love you” to him that made him beam just as brightly as your children. 

“Okay. Pizza after bathtime,” Sebastian ordered, making Alex whine loudly, but Isabella just grabbed his hand to get his attention. 

“We can have a bath together and you can play with my fish if you want?” she suggested, and Alex stopped crying as quickly as he had begun. He loved Isabella’s fish but more than that he loved spending time with his big sister. 

Isabella sent her dad a proud smile when he ruffled her hair. 

“Good girl.”

“We’ll get ready. If you fill the tub and give us the towels when we call, I can help Alex and you and mom can clean the kitchen,” Isabella announced, causing both your and Sebastian's jaws to drop without her realizing it. The little girl just skipped ahead of her brother, with his hand still in hers, as they talked about the games they were gonna play with her fishies. 

“Okay she is growing up way too fast,” Sebastian grumbled when they were out of earshot, making you laugh and wrap your arms around him from the side. He quickly pulled you in front of him and into a proper hug as you looked up at him with a soft smile. 

“She’ll always be your little girl,” you promised, smiling when you saw the pain in his eyes, and you knew he was already picturing her going off to college and getting married. 

“Seb. She’s five,” you laughed, giving his butt a squeeze, and he groaned playfully, dipping down to kiss you. 

He stopped just before your lips met, whispering, “six in a month. She is practically already grown up.” 

He smiled, swallowing your giggles with his kiss, not breaking it before Isabella’s voice sounded through the apartment. 

“Daddy! We’re ready soon. Come turn on the water please.”

“Well little miss gown up still can’t reach the faucet honey,” you teased, squealing when Sebastian pinched your butt in retaliation. 

“Smartass,” he grinned. “Did you like the flowers?”

“Oh you mean the bribe?” you teased. 

Sebastian’s face fell instantly and he started stammering. “It wasn’t… I mean we hadn't even bought the pumpkins when I….” he tried to explain, before you stopped him, gently cupping his face in your hands. 

“I know. I was just teasing. I’m sorry. I love them. And I’m keeping the card,” you assured him, and Sebastian lit up instantly, leaning in to give you a kiss. 

“I love you,” he said softly, rubbing his nose against yours as he pulled away. 

“I’ll love you always and forever too,” you smiled up at him. Before Sebastian could reply Isabella yelled again. 

“Daddy! Water!”

You threw your head back laughing, and Sebastian rolled his eyes lovingly. “Just as bossy as her mom,” he mumbled. He grinned and ducked out of the way of the projectile pumpkin goo that you threw his way with a laugh as he headed for the door. 

“I’ll order the pizza. You better be back here to help me clean up when I am done,” you warned playfully. 

Sebastian laughed, calling back to you on his way to the kids' bathroom, “Like I said. Bossy!”

You smiled as you went to get your phone, passing the flowers and Sebastian’s card on the way. He couldn’t have been more accurate. You were friends, best friends, and you always would be. He was the one you wanted to share the good and the bad with. He was the one that could always make you laugh and feel like everything was going to be okay. He was always the most handsome man you’d ever met and the only guy to have ever earned and held your heart truly and safely. Your relationship was loving, teasing, and warm. He was the love of your life and the father of your two beautiful kids. Your version of love was most certainly friendship set on fire, and you didn’t want it any other way, nor did you want to share your life with anyone else. Sebastian was it for you, and you were living your happiest life with him. 

Reblogs spread my work and make me happy. Got a favorite part/line? Did something touch you? Do you relate in some way? Please tell me and make my day. 

Sebastian Stan Tag Team

@feelmyroarrrr​ @sleepretreat​ @roxyspearing​ @jewels2876​  @hellaqueerangelofthelord​ @danijimenezv​ @rumoured-whispers​ @becs-bunker​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @blacktithe7​ @grace-for-sale​ @averyrogers83​ @sebs-potato​ @sorenmarie87​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @erosbellarke​ @the-wayward-robot​ @super100012​ @myfanficlibrarium​ @winchesters-favorite-girl​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @igotkatiepowers​ @dottirose​ @deathofmissjackson​

[whumphoarder]

D is for Diploma

Summary: Between all of his commitments, Peter’s grades start slipping, putting him in danger of losing his academic scholarship to Midtown. Stressed and guilt-ridden about the effect this will have on May’s finances, he ends up worrying himself sick and having a breakdown in Tony’s lab.

Word count: 3,759

Genre: emotional hurt/comfort, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: Thanks so much to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta reading and encouragement <3

Link to read on Ao3

“But how are you getting a C in gym class?” Ned balks at his friend. He’s peering over Peter’s shoulder as he scrolls through his quarterly grades on the school library computer. “Everyone gets an A. I’m getting an A. All you gotta do is show up and at least look like you’re trying and boom, automatic A.”

Peter rubs a hand at the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, remember after the Rhino dude attacked me, how I had all those bruises that didn’t heal right away?”

“Yeah...” Ned recalls, frowning. “But you said they didn’t hurt.”

“They didn’t! Not really, anyway,” Peter says quickly. “But like, I didn’t really want everyone to see that, so I kinda didn’t change into my uniform. And apparently if you don’t change, Wilson just marks you as absent.”

“Ah.” Ned gives him a sympathetic wince. “Yeah, that’s lame.”

“What I don’t understand,” MJ pipes up, glancing up from the book she’s had her nose in all afternoon, “is the D in Spanish. Rodríguez isn’t even a hard teacher.”

Peter’s face flushes with embarrassment. “So… I might have forgotten to submit a couple assignments.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “You forgot? He reminds us what’s due, like, three times every class period.”

“I mean, it was just the take-home quiz...” he mumbles. “And some of the homework sheets. Oh, and that cultural essay thing about the ancient Mayans.”

“Peter.” She blinks at him. “That was like, twenty percent of our grade.”

“Well, to be fair, I did have a concussion,” he defends. “It was a little hard to remember stuff that week.”

Ned rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, that makes it so much better.”

Peter huffs out a laugh. Honestly, between all the hours he’s been logging lately as Spider-Man, his frequent internship nights with Tony in the lab, the increasingly demanding decathlon practice schedule as their team moves toward regionals, and the weekend shifts he’s started picking up at Delmar’s (because, let’s face it, the vigilante life isn’t the most lucrative career path—the occasional free churro notwithstanding), Peter thinks he’s been doing quite well juggling everything. Sure, his grades aren’t quite the neat row of A’s and the occasional B he’s grown accustomed to throughout his school career, but it’s not like he’s failing anything.

“I’ve just got different priorities now,” Peter says with a shrug. “I still show up and I’m passing all my classes, so what does the grade matter?”

MJ returns the shrug, looking vaguely impressed with him. “It doesn’t really. I’ve always been morally opposed to using arbitrary numerical values as a measure of academic success.” She shifts her gaze back to her novel before adding, offhandedly, “But you gotta admit, the tuition break is nice.”

And in those nine little words, she might as well have punched him in the gut.

“Oh shit,” Peter breathes out. Hurriedly, he starts gathering books together and getting to his feet.

“What?” Ned asks, looking puzzled.

“Um, I gotta go,” he blurts. And then before anyone can say another word, he’s out of the library doors.

X

The Parkers aren’t poor, exactly.

May works full-time at her job as a neonatal nurse, besides picking up extra shifts one or two nights a month to give them a bit of cushion. Between her wages and the social security checks that come every month from Ben’s pension, the two of them get by. Sure, Peter might not have name-brand clothes or the coolest tech or even a pair of gym shoes without a bit of duct tape on the soles, but there’s always been food on the table and a roof over his head, so Peter’s never stressed that much about their financial situation.

Maybe that’s how he managed to completely forget about his academic scholarship.

He’s qualified for it ever since he passed Midtown’s entrance exams in the top tenth percentile back in eighth grade. The money is substantial—slightly over two-thirds of the tuition cost is paid for him—and the scholarship automatically renews every semester provided he maintains a grade point average of 3.3 or higher, which has never been a problem for him.

That is, up until now. Factoring in his B in history, the C’s in gym and trig, and his D in Spanish, his GPA is currently sitting at 2.9.

Peter is going to lose his scholarship.

X

With less than two weeks left before finals, Peter starts cramming in all the studying he can manage. He stays up late, pouring over his trigonometry notes, trying to work his way through all the practice problems he’s been slacking on. He makes a point of showing up three minutes early to gym class every day, even if he has to use a bit of his enhanced speed to get all the way there from the chem labs on the other side of the building. On the train, he quizzes himself on the names of historical figures and the dates of battles long-since fought. Some of his teachers are willing to work with him, letting him turn in late assignments for partial credit or giving him additional projects to complete.

And then there’s Spanish.

“Isn’t there some kind of extra credit project I can do?” Peter begs. “Anything?”

It’s his study hall period and he’s at Señor Rodríguez’s desk for the second day in a row, desperately hoping for anything that could give his grade the boost it needs.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” his teacher says, sounding genuinely regretful. “But you’ve had countless opportunities this semester to get your grade up via homework and test retakes, all of which you neglected to take advantage of. Coming to me with less than ten days left in the semester requesting make up work for assignments worth significant percentages of your grade is simply too little, too late.”

“But… I had a concussion that week,” Peter argues. “Like, right when it was all due. And I would have done the work before, but…” He trails off, unable to finish his sentence without explaining his unorthodox extracurriculars. “I...I was busy,” he concludes weakly.

Rodríguez raises an eyebrow a little skeptically. “I didn’t receive any notes from the nurse’s office about this concussion.”

Peter glances down to his feet. “Well, that’s because she didn’t know, exactly…”

No one did—not even May. After getting all those bruises the week before, Peter didn’t want anyone to know he was hurt again so soon. Apparently Karen hadn’t deemed the blow to the head he took severe enough to override his wishes. He’d just dealt with the headaches and brain fog the best he could and sort of floated through that week on his own. In hindsight, maybe not his best plan.

“Well, I guess this is a good life lesson for you then, Peter,” Rodríguez says. His voice is firm, but not unkind. “Part of growing up is taking responsibility and learning to communicate with authority figures before you get into trouble.”

“Right, and I get that,” Peter babbles, “I just—”

His teacher holds up a finger, quieting him. “My job is to train my students for success in the real world, and sometimes that means reminding you that actions have consequences. ¿Lo entiendes?”

And Peter finds himself nodding. Because, despite the pool of dread growing in his gut, he does understand. He wants to be mad, wants to say it’s unfair and the universe gave him a raw deal and he doesn’t deserve this. But he can’t. Rodríguez is right.

And Peter’s still fucked.

X

By the time Friday rolls around, Peter’s barely functioning. Besides all the extra assignments and studying for finals, he’s had three days in a row of Decathlon practices, followed by some particularly eventful evening patrols that all went quite a bit later than his usual curfew of ten p.m.

He can’t get much of his lunch down today, which does nothing to appease his friends’ concerned looks. The food seems tasteless in his mouth and he’s so tired he nearly nods off into his cafeteria chicken nuggets.

When school finally lets out, he’s surprised and a little disheartened to see the sleek black car waiting for him in the bus circle. He’d totally forgotten it was an internship weekend.

Figures.

X

Peter groans as he disconnects the circuits he just switched out. He’s been trying to fix a bug in his suit’s heater upgrade for the last twenty minutes now, but nothing he attempts is working and his head is throbbing so much that his vision is hazy.

“Just try again, kid,” Tony encourages absently from across the workshop. He’s not looking up, fully engrossed as he is in his own project. “You got this.”

“Yeah...” Peter mutters under his breath. Blinking a few times, he rubs a hand at his eyes to try to clear his vision.

He connects a different wire. That one doesn’t yield any better results, so he unplugs it and tries again. Then again. Then again. He’s fairly sure he’s already tried the next combination, but he’s so tired he can’t remember so he does it again just to be sure. Nothing.

Peter is so frustrated now that his hands are actually shaking. He pauses and takes a deep breath before trying again.

This time, the wire sparks at him.

“I can’t do this!” Peter exclaims, shoving the suit away from him across the table. “I can’t do anything! Why am I so fucking stupid?!”

He’s breathing heavily now, tears clouding his vision even further. Within a few seconds he feels Tony’s hand rest heavily on his shoulder. It should be comforting, but it only makes Peter feel pathetic.

“C’mon, just take a deep breath and—”

“No!” Peter blurts, shaking away from Tony’s grip. “That’s not going to fix anything! I can’t fix this—don’t you see?!”

Stepping backwards, Tony holds his hands up in front of his chest, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. “Okay…” he says carefully. “I think you might need a break.”

Tears prick at Peter’s eyes and he instantly regrets snapping at his mentor. “No, no, I didn’t mean that! I’m s-sorry, ’m fine…” he says. It would probably sound a lot more convincing if his breath would stop hitching.

Tony lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, no, I’m pulling rank here,” he declares. “It’s break time.”

“No!” Peter protests. His hands fumble back on the table for the wires.  “I gotta finish it! It’s so close, it’s just—” He cuts himself off as the images of the suit swim before his eyes, his head throbbing. “I, I need to finish…” he concludes lamely.

“Peter, just stop,” Tony says with an exasperated sigh. “You’re no good like this.”

Somehow, those words are the catalyst. Peter feels every emotion he’s been bottling up for the past week erupt inside of him. His breath hitches and his head pulses. “I, I know I’m not,” he manages to say, “but that’s why I gotta… gotta finish, then maybe—”

“Jesus, kid,” Tony breathes out. “That’s not what I meant at all. I was just saying—”

Peter cuts him off. “No, I… I know…” Tears are sliding down Peter’s cheeks now. He runs a hand through his hair, shoulders shaking. “’M sorry.”

Tony’s eyes are a mixture of concern and confusion. “Whoa, hey, what’s going on here?” Tugging the edge of his sleeve over his thumb, Tony uses it to wipe a few of the tears off his cheeks. “Talk to me.”

Honestly, Peter doesn’t even know where to begin. The frustration of his current project, the lack of sleep, his grades, the scholarship…

“I just… I-I have a headache.”

Peter doesn’t know why he says it—the pressure in his skull doesn’t even rank very high on his list of concerns at the moment, yet the simple physicality of it somehow makes it the easiest thing to admit. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, but his vision is still so blurry. “Can’t really see straight…”

Tony’s brows knit together. “Is it a migraine?”

“N-No,” Peter says between choked sobs. “Or... I don’t know, I don’t th-think so?” Despite never having had a migraine, he’s pretty sure that’s not what this is. The pain isn’t anything exceptional—it’s just that he can’t seem to stop crying and he’s so fucking tired.

“Either way, I think you’ll feel better once you’ve got a couple painkillers in you,” Tony reasons. “C’mon, let’s get you sorted out.”

Peter shakes his head in weak protest. “No, ’s’okay... “

“Nope,” Tony says, his voice a little more firm. “Trust me on this, you don’t want to work in a lab right now. It’s bright, and loud, and honestly, you’re a bit of a safety hazard at the moment.”

To Peter’s horror, a fresh wave of emotion comes over him and he finds himself properly crying now, his frame wracking with each sob.

“Okay, okay, alright…” Tony murmurs, and Peter feels a hand awkwardly patting him on the back.

It’s all so idiotic, Peter decides, standing in Tony’s lab, crying over things that are completely his own fault and a headache that isn’t even that bad.

“You’re okay, kid,” Tony whispers. “Just breathe.”

As Peter struggles to pull himself together, he feels the hand switch to rubbing circles on his back. It moves up to the back of his neck, but halts as soon as Tony’s fingers touch Peter’s bare skin.

Tony frowns. “Do you have a fever?”

“Wh-What?” Peter’s throat is thick.

“You’re really warm,” Tony explains. He flips his hand around to press the back of his fingers to Peter’s skin, first on his neck, then on his cheek. “Yeah. FRIDAY, can we get a read on that?”

“100.7, boss,” she supplies.

Tony hums a bit. “Yeah, that’s about what I thought…”

Peter doesn’t get it. “B-But I’m not sick,” he protests. “Just—”

“Exhausted,” Tony finishes for him. “When’s the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

Sniffling, Peter gives a non-committal shrug.

“Yeah, that’s not good, kid,” Tony huffs. “Take it from a guy who has a bit of experience in this area—not sleeping enough will seriously mess you up.”

With a hand on Peter’s back, Tony starts gently ushering the kid out of the lab. Peter doesn’t even bother protesting anymore as he shuffles along, his lip quivering. He figures he’s caused enough trouble today.

Tony deposits him onto the couch in the living room and Peter immediately curls up against the arm rest, squeezing his eyelids shut in an effort not to think about what a fool he’s making of himself in front of his mentor. It doesn’t help much.

“You just chill out for a minute here, okay?” Tony says quietly, draping a blanket over Peter. “I’m gonna get you some meds.”

Peter nods and Tony gives his shoulder a final squeeze before stepping out.

The second he’s alone, the tears start streaming down again, hot and silent and totally uncontrollable. If he’s not working in the lab, then he really should be studying for these stupid finals, but he can’t bring himself to pull out his flash cards. He doesn’t think he can rest—not with so much hanging over his head—but he can’t work either. Tony was right; he’s just no good right now.

When Tony reenters with painkillers and a glass of water, he doesn’t say anything about how Peter is hurriedly sitting up and scrubbing his face with his hands in a pointless attempt to pull himself together. He just presses two pills into Peter’s palm.

Looking down at the painkillers in his shaking hand, Peter’s stomach twists and he’s suddenly not so sure they’ll be able to stay down. “I can’t. I feel sick,” he admits in a whisper.

With a quiet sigh, Tony perches himself on the edge of the sofa, right beside Peter’s tucked knees. “I think you’re just tired, kiddo. Sometimes that makes you feel a little sick.”

Peter doesn’t say anything so Tony passes him the glass of water. “Here. Humor me,” he says. “If I’m wrong, I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

It’s a stupid joke, but the corners of Peter’s lips twitch anyway. “Okay,” he croaks.

Peter slips the pills into his mouth and swallows them down with a sip of water. He’s queasy, but it’s not too bad. He goes to set the cup back down on the coffee table, but his mentor shakes his head.

“Drink the whole thing,” Tony instructs.

Peter obeys. It takes him a couple of minutes, but he manages to get the entire cup down and feels just the smallest bit better for it.

Tony takes the empty glass from his hand and sets it on the table. “Think you can sleep now?”

Peter just shrugs. He wants to—god, he wants to—but he doesn’t deserve it. Not when this is all his own damn fault. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks again:

“I think I really messed up, Mr. Stark.”

X

Over the next ten minutes, it all comes tumbling out: the job at Delmar’s, the decathlon requirements, the late patrols, his slipping grades, his scholarship, everything.

“I just… I don’t want to change schools,” Peter concludes softly. “I like Midtown. It was the first place I really felt like… well, like I fit in.”

Tony’s been quiet for the whole time Peter was speaking, but now his brow furrows. “Why would you need to quit Midtown?”

Peter blinks at him; isn’t it obvious? “Because the full tuition is eight thousand dollars a semester. Without the scholarship…” he trails off. “I just can’t do that to May.”

A look of relief spreads across Tony’s face. “Is that all? That’s the whole issue?” He huffs out an amused breath. “Done. Consider it paid. Problem solved.”

Peter feels his cheeks flush. He shakes his head frantically. “No, no, I didn’t mean that you should pay! Please don’t do that!”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to blink at him. “Peter. I am a multi-billionaire. Do you have any idea what eight thousand dollars is to me?”

“But you shouldn’t have t—”

“Peanuts,” Tony cuts him off. “I’ve spent more on peanuts than that.”

“But—”

“And by that I mean actual, honest-to-god peanuts,” Tony continues over the kid’s protests. “There’s this company in Peru that slow-roasts them for twenty-one days in a secret spice blend. Happy’s obsessed with ‘em—says they’re god’s gift to mankind. So, for Christmas one year—”

“You can’t pay my tuition!” Peter blurts out.

Tony stops his story abruptly. His eyes narrow at Peter. “And why exactly is that?”

“Because…” Running a hand through his hair, Peter draws in a shuddery breath. “Because… If anyone should pay, it’s me. I-I’m the one who fucked up and lost the stupid scholarship. I should be the one responsible for fixing this.”

“But you can’t fix it,” Tony says bluntly.

Peter’s caught off-guard. “Wh-What? N-No, I just need to get my grades up, and, and…”

Tony’s voice is gentler now. “You can’t, Peter. You can’t get a 2.9 up to a 3.3 by next week, no matter how well you do on your exams. You’ve gotta know that.”

(Peter does know. He’s known for days. He’s always been good at math, after all.)

“So you can’t keep going on like this, trying to make up for what happened,” Tony concludes.

Tears prick at the corners of Peter’s eyes once more. He’s determined not to let them fall this time. “But I deserve it…” he whispers.

Tony shrugs. “If we always got what we deserved, I never would have made it through the 90s.” He huffs out a short laugh. “At least nobody has to bail you out of prison. Same can’t be said for all of us.”

In spite of Peter’s earlier resolve, the traitorous tears slip out anyway. He wonders how he has any left.

Tony sobers a bit. “You’re a good kid, Pete,” he says quietly. “But you’re trying to carry the whole world on your shoulders and that’s enough to break anyone. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes. Even if you fucked up.”

Peter swallows hard. “Okay.”

“So let’s try this again,” Tony says. He makes eye contact with Peter. “What do you need, kid?”

“Right now?” Peter exhales deeply. “I dunno. A nap?”

Tony smirks slightly. “I think we can manage that.”

X

Peter makes it through finals.

All his extra effort and studying does yield some results. His gym grade increases to a B after Coach Wilson grades his two-page extra credit report on the rules of badminton. The trig final is rough, but he pulls in another couple points there, and the art teacher accepts a few late sketches from the unit on perspectivism. With the help of the final exam, he even manages to eek out a C- in Spanish.

When it’s all said and done, Peter’s GPA sits at 3.1.

“That wasn’t easy to do. I’m proud of you, Peter,” May says sincerely. “You know that, right?”

Peter shrugs. “I guess so.”

They’re sitting together at the apartment’s small kitchen table, May’s open laptop in front of them with all of Peter’s end of semester grades displayed. Peter’s eyes drift down from the screen to the table where a check for eight thousand dollars signed by Tony Stark himself is staring back at him. He sighs.

May plants a quick kiss on the top of her nephew’s head. “Well, I know so. So for now, I’ll just know it for the both of us.”

Peter strokes his fingers over the crisp paper of the check. Besides covering tuition, Tony has now upgraded Peter’s unofficial SI internship to a paid position—something he says he should have done long ago, given how much time Peter spends working in the lab—and that will allow him to give Mr. Delmar his two-week notice.

He knows he should be grateful, but honestly, it’s going to take him some time to wrap his head around the concept of being taken care of like this.

Getting up from the table, May moves over to retrieve a small paper bag from the counter. “That reminds me—Mr. Stark told me to give you this.” She tosses the bag to Peter, who catches it easily.

Curiously, he opens it. He’s immediately hit with the aroma of exotic spices and roasted legumes. Peter can’t help but grin.

A note inside the bag reads: Enjoy your peanuts, kid.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, you might also like: 

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[css1992]

Domestic!Starker

[REPOST]

Guys, I’m soo sorry, I’m reposting this because Tumblr made my post from earlier disappear from the Starker tag :´(((

An Anon sent this request:

“Tony's feet are killing him and sweet bf, peter messages him.”

Look at me, sloowly filling prompts. This was supposed to be ready last week, but I wasn’t feeling well, some things happened and I couldn’t write, but now I’m back on track!

Anon, I hope you don’t mind that I took your prompt a little too far, I’m not sure that’s what you had in mind, but I promise there’s a foot massage there. Haha! I hope you like it.

I still have other prompts in my inbox, remember to have patience with little ol’ me.

Domestic!Starker, established relationship, fluff.  

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: I believe there’s nothing triggering here, but if you spot anything that might be triggering to anyone, please let me know!

-*-

Peter was eighteen when he joined the Avengers. Tony had been after him ever since he got his powers, at sixteen, and started posting videos of himself on YouTube. He always came to him as Iron Man, though, on top of buildings late at night; in dark alleys, when Spider-man was overwhelmed and outnumbered; during world-ending wars against purple skinned aliens. Tony was always there when Peter needed him – or, Iron Man was always there when Spider-man needed him. The press loved it, they portrayed him as Iron Man’s sidekick, his apprentice. Peter didn’t mind, he liked it, wished it was true, but they only ever met in highly stressful situations. It was like Tony was watching over him or something, like he knew where to find him if he was ever in danger.

Which – yeah. Of course he did.

Peter thought his secret identity was safe, that no one knew who he was, but, who was he kidding, it was Tony Stark, he knew everything. He had been helping him keep his identity a secret from day one, had FRIDAY monitoring the internet for pictures or videos of him changing into the costume. He erased all security cameras’ videos of him changing carelessly in alleys – there were hundreds of those, according to him.

“A little dumb for such a smart kid, but who am I to judge, I’ve done my fair share of dumb in the past,” he’d said, shrugging, sitting on his aunt May’s couch one night, when she was away at work. It was Peter’s eighteenth birthday, and Tony Stark had just rung the bell, invited himself in and asked Peter to join the Avengers. Just like that.

“I’m – uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir, and I don’t know what use I could have for the Avengers, I’m just – I’m just some kid.“ Peter laughed nervously, wringing his hands, but Tony was barely listening to him, he was searching for something on his phone.

“So this isn’t you?” He asked when a 3D hologram video of Peter undressing popped up from the phone. Peter spent exactly fifteen seconds thinking about how cool that was before he started freaking out. “Your secret is safe with me, kid. I told you, I’ve known since the first time you ever put on that awful onesie and started punching bad guys.”

“Why – you’ve never said anything. All those times we met.” The older man put his phone back in his pocket, then shrugged.

“You were just a kid, you had enough on your plate just being our friendly neighborhood Spider-man, I didn’t want to overwhelm you with superhero drama. But you’re all grown up now and we could really use your help, so what do you say?” He looked at him expectantly and the young man blinked owlishly.

Peter learned that day that he couldn’t say no to Tony. Not that he wanted to, but he was used to being a lone wolf, he didn’t know how he would fit into a group of superheroes who had so much history together, but he said yes, anyway. Even if he was moving to Boston in just a few weeks, even if he was starting college – and not just any college, MIT –, even if it would be almost impossible to keep his identity a secret for long after that, even though he knew he’d have to finally tell May everything – he looked into the older man’s eyes and said yes.

That was when Peter Parker’s relationship with Tony Stark officially started, without the suits, and it was so very different from what Iron Man and Spider-man had. When Peter was in the mask, everything was so much easier, he was sassy, smart-mouthed and sarcastic, there was safety in anonymity. With the mask off, though, it was so hard to interact with Tony – the man was a genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist, Peter was just – Peter.

Tony noticed, too, he always looked amused when Peter stuttered and stumbled around him, like the first time the billionaire showed up in his dorm room one night and told him to “suit up, we’re going to Wakanda”, and Peter blushed bright red as he tried to cover his naked thighs by pulling down the hem of the old t-shirt he wore to bed instead of pajamas.

“You’re nothing like I thought you’d be, kid,” he told him on the Quinjet, when they were on their way to Africa to deal with some alien threat. He sat right next to Tony in his only clean T-shirt and not-so-clean sweatpants and he blushed furiously as he looked at the impeccable tracksuit that the billionaire usually wore under the Iron Man armor if he had time to change.

“I-I’m sorry.” He dropped his gaze, biting his lower lip, but Tony placed a hand on his knee, patting it gently.

“Don’t apologize, I like it. Spider-man is kind of a brat, anyway. I like you better.” He winked, and Peter’s eyes widened in awe.

During his freshman year, they didn’t meet that often, at least not in person, but they texted a lot and sometimes even talked on the phone. It usually started with a good excuse, like the time Peter asked about getting a suit upgrade, but they always ended up talking for hours; at first, it was always about Peter’s classes, Tony’s projects, Avengers’ missions, that sort of thing, but slowly their conversations became more personal, intimate. One night, Tony told him his relationship with Pepper was over – had been for a few months at the time, but the press didn’t know about it yet.

Peter didn’t know what to feel when he heard that – on one hand, Tony sounded broken. He wasn’t drunk, thankfully, he’d been sober a few years, but he was clearly devastated, even if all that ever came out of his lips was “It’s okay, I just want her to be happy”. On the other hand, Peter had fallen in love with him over all those months, and he knew he was just a kid and he shouldn’t really know what love was, and people would assume it was just a crush, hero worship, but he just knew deep in his bones that he loved that man. With all his scars and all his flaws, his crazy ideas and his acid jokes, his genius inventions and his big heart.

He didn’t say anything, though, he was just an eighteen year old kid, and even though Tony never really treated him like a child, he knew he didn’t stand any chance. Tony was forty-eight at the time, the richest man in the world, he was fucking Iron Man, the man who saved the whole universe with a snap of his fingers and lived to tell the tale – he was way, way out of Peter’s league and he was okay with it. The fact that the man was willing to talk to him, be his friend, his mentor, whatever, was good enough for Peter. He’d take anything he could get.

He was nineteen when he got back for his first summer break. They all agreed that it would be best for him to stay with the Avengers at the compound, for training exercises and meetings, and he could go home to stay with May during the weekends. Tony didn’t live in the compound at the time, he lived in his penthouse in the city, but he was there almost everyday during Peter’s summer break. His very first night there, actually, Tony invited him to dinner in his private living quarters and then they headed down to the lab and started a bit of a routine. They would spend hours together down there, Tony helped him with his projects and with his school work and Peter helped him with S.I.’s new products and with suits upgrades for all the Avengers. It was already perfect, already so much more than he could hope for.

But it got better. One night, when they were both exhausted after almost 33 hours working non-stop, Peter was babbling about his sparring match with Natasha and how he got his ass handed to him  when Tony kissed him. Peter figured he did it because he wasn’t even thinking straight anymore, blind from exhaustion, maybe he just wanted him to shut up, so he took the chance and kissed him back, trying to commit every detail to memory, every single taste and texture, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around his waist, his beard brushing against his soft skin, the smell of grease and sweat, and the taste of coffee and too much chocolate to keep them going for so many hours. He thought he’d never get to experience that again, but he was wrong.

Tony didn’t pretend like nothing happened the next day, he greeted him with a kiss good morning when he walked into the kitchen. The other Avengers present stared, but didn’t say anything. The younger man’s insides were in knots, he was so happy, excited, anxious, and so fucking in love with that man. They only had The Talk that night at dinner, in Tony’s quarters.

“I know you’ve probably heard a lot of shit about me, kid, and I need you to know it’s all true, okay?” Peter stared at him with big, round eyes, cheeks full of spaghetti – that Tony had cooked with his own hands, which somehow made it tastier –, surprised by his words because they had been talking shop and pretending that that wasn’t a date until that moment. “I was a bit of a player –“ Peter actually choked on his spaghetti at that. “Wh – are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sorry, go on.” Peter took a huge sip of water and prepared himself for the blow. That was Tony’s way of dumping him gently, apparently. It involved pasta, candlelit dinner and stories about his playboy years. Great.

“So, I was a bit of a player, I’m sure you’ve heard that, and it’s all true, but – I’m too old for that shit now. I don’t – I’m not like that anymore. I’m saying this because you’re young, you’re in college, and I’m sure you’re not looking for anything serious, you’re just having fun, and I should have thought of that before – before I kissed you. I don’t do ‘just fun’ anymore, kid. So I understand if you wanna stop this right now, I just wanna let you know there’s no hard feelings if you do, it changes nothing, we’ll still be friends, and lab buddies, and sidekicks or whatever. Ok? It doesn’t have to change anything.” It took a while for Peter to piece the words together in a way that made sense, but when he did, his eyes rounded and he choked – again – on his water. “Pete –“

“I want things to change,” Peter blurted, face red with embarrassment and lack of oxygen – either or. The older man seemed a little surprised, but his expression remained neutral. “I-I don’t do ‘just fun’ either, Tony. It’s not me. I want this – us – to mean something. If you’re willing to try.”

And try they did. They learned as they went, one day at a time. As mature as Peter liked to think he was, he was nineteen, and very inexperienced when it came to relationships, so he let Tony take the lead. The older man didn’t mind to take it slow – way too slow, even for Peter. They went on dates that ended with chaste kisses in front of Peter’s bedroom door, Tony never offered to come in. Those dates escalated to movie marathons in Tony’s quarters, where hands and lips were finally allowed to wander, but always above the waist.

Peter wasn’t a virgin and he told Tony that, but still the older man wouldn’t even try to go any further then a little kissing, so, on his last week home, Peter took matters into his own hands and  straddled him, blushing furiously, and kissed him hard, pressing his hard-on against Tony’s. He wished he had done that sooner, apparently it was all the green light Tony needed to get things going. Waking up beside the older man the next day was arguably the best thing that had happened all summer and they barely left the room for those last seven days. But when they finally did, Tony had to drive him to the airport with the promise to visit in a month.

They made it work around their tight schedules, between Peter’s classes, Tony running S.I. and they both saving the world on occasion, they had candlelit dinners, quiet movie nights and slow love-making in the shower. If they had enough time for a short trip, Tony would take Peter out of the country, somewhere secluded and safe, where they could spend an entire day lying on the beach or cuddled up in front of a fireplace.

That was Peter’s first relationship, and it seemed to make Tony feel insecure and – guilty. Most of the time, the older man just let it happen, just rolled with it; some other times, though, he’d freak out and rant about how Peter should be out there living his life, meeting people, kissing other mouths. Not even once did Peter feel tempted to do any of that, so as Tony freaked out, he just looked at him and smiled softly, waiting for him to finish to tell him that “It’s okay, we’ll be okay”.

As the years passed after Thanos, things finally started to settle down, the world was as peaceful as it could possibly get, at least Peter thought so. The Avengers weren’t needed as often, so slowly people started leaving the compound, some even moving away from the city or the country – Wanda and Vision were the first to leave for Europe. By Peter’s third summer home, there wasn’t anyone at the compound, so he stayed with Tony at the penthouse.

The older man seemed surprised when Peter showed up, he probably had just assumed that he’d stay with May, but he was so happy he couldn’t stop smiling all day long. It was a new experience for them, “living together”. At the compound, even if Tony had his own living quarters and they mostly stayed there, there were other people involved in their daily routine, way too many people.

At the penthouse, it was just them – they shared house chores, Tony complained about doing the dishes, Peter chastised him about wet towels on the bed, they cooked together and Peter tried not to ruin whatever they were making. Tony worked most of the day a few floors down and Peter stayed in the workshop, working on his personal projects or studying. He’d put together an easy, healthy  lunch and he’d head down to Tony’s office so they could eat together everyday. Sometimes they only had fifteen minutes before the older man had to get back to work, some other times they even had enough time for some fun before eating.

They started going out together publicly and the press went wild, but they didn’t really mind. They went to functions together, helped at May’s charity events, had dinner at fancy restaurants or at Burger King, whatever felt right at the moment. Tony took it upon himself to dress Peter up, declaring himself the most stylish out of the two of them, he always picked the (matching) outfits they’d wear to go out in public, which was why Peter’s last day home before summer was over was so ironic.

He had just finished doing laundry when Tony walked through the door, limping slightly and wincing. Peter dropped the basket of clean clothes he was carrying to their room and rushed to his side.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly, looking Tony all over. He seemed fine, didn’t smell of blood or anything, but Peter hadn’t turned on the TV or checked his phone all day, he could have gotten in trouble as Iron Man and he wouldn’t know – although, FRIDAY would probably tell him.

“Nah, I’m fine, it’s just these new shoes, they’ve been killing me all day long.” He winced as he leaned on the wall to take them off and Peter stared at the expensive leather shoes with a frown.

“I told you they weren’t comfortable enough for work, these are obviously party shoes, you’re not supposed to spend a whole day on your feet in them,” he chastised, as Tony sighed in relief, slumped against the wall with his eyes closed when his feet were free.

“And I told you there’s no such thing as party shoes and work shoes.” Tony opened his eyes to narrow them at Peter when the younger man crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, I guess I was right, then, huh?” He smirked, raising an eyebrow, and Tony laughed.

“Yes, I guess you were. As usual.” He rolled his eyes and opened his arms. “Be a good boy and come kiss it better.”

“I really shouldn’t, you stubborn ass. You’re lucky you look so hot in that suit.” He dragged his eyes over Tony’s body and felt the blood rush south. Tony was 51, and just like fine wine, he only seemed to get better over time. He approached the older man and let him hold him, burying his face in his neck, where he placed a soft kiss.

“You smell like fabric softener, were you doing laundry?” Tony muttered against the top of his head and Peter nodded, feeling the older man’s arms tighten around him. “Are you packed yet?”

“Not yet, I’ll do it later, maybe after dinner. Are you hungry?” He snuggled closer to the other man and felt him nod against his head. “FRI, our Saturday usual.” The AI didn’t even answer, sensing the quietness of them room, and they stayed there by the door for a few more minutes. “Are you stalling because you don’t think you can walk to the couch, old man?” Peter whispered after he almost fell asleep with his nose buried in the other’s neck.

“Shut up, brat,” Tony grunted, pushing the younger man away softly, eliciting giggles from him. “No, but seriously, don’t you ever let me walk out of the house wearing those again.” He huffed, pushing away from the wall to start limping towards the couch. “Actually, remind me to burn them or something.”

“Well, I did try to stop you this morning, you big baby, you never listen to me.” Peter rolled his eyes, watching with amusement as Tony tried to make his way to the living room. He picked up Tony’s shoes then went back to get the basket he’d dropped earlier and headed to their bedroom. “Stay put, I’m just gonna put these away, then I can give you a massage.”

“I love you forever!” Tony shouted from the living room as Peter disappeared down the hallway.  

“I know!”

When Peter got back to the living room, Tony was lying on the couch, no suit jacket, no tie and with pretty much all of his shirt’s buttons undone. He had and arm thrown over his eyes and was snoring softly. Peter smiled with fondness and decided to make some tea as they waited for dinner – Tony used to hate tea, but they were trying to cut down on caffeine, mostly because the older man’s doctors thought it might help with his insomnia and maybe even with the nightmares.

He made chamomile tea and grabbed a bottle of massage oil from the bathroom, when he got back to the living room, he watched Tony sleeping peacefully for a while, it was such a rare occurrence, Peter was always asleep before him – he was afraid to ask Friday how many hours of sleep the man got each night. It was nice to see him so calm and relaxed, he was always on top of everything, trying to fix anything he thought was wrong with the world, even when it wasn’t needed.  

He sat on the opposite end of the couch and put Tony’s legs on his lap; he stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. Peter took off his socks and dripped some of the oil on his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. As soon his applied pressure to the sole of his right foot, Tony startled awake, moaning.

“Oh, fuck, right there, baby.” He arched his back, clearly in pain, but the good kind of pain. “Ooh, I really needed this.”

“Good thing we don’t have neighbors.” Peter smirked, letting his thumbs slide all the way down to the arch of his foot, then up to his sole again. Tony grunted, but said nothing smart back, truly enthralled by the massage. “You look tired, did something happen? Besides the bad shoes.”

“Nah, just the usual bullshit. There was a board meeting today, but it was short. Then I had a meeting with a few investors, that was long as fuck, even Pepper was pissed by the end of it. Then I  headed back to R&D to see if I could get some work done, but not really. So just basically a lot of walking around with pain, both physical and psychological, ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking that you’re gonna leave tomorrow and I should be spending your last day here with you.” He pouted slightly and reached one of his hands to rub Peter’s arm. “I’m really sorry, love, I really wish I could have stayed.”

“It’s just one day, Tones, we had a great summer.” Peter grinned, lifting his foot to place a kiss on  the bridge, then made circular motions on Tony’s sole and the ball of his foot, where it seemed to hurt the most by the sounds he made. “Drink your tea.” When Tony started complaining, he pressured his arch a bit harder, making him yelp. “None of that, mister, we agreed we’d try this, didn’t we? When I’m gone, you have to promise me you’ll keep it up. And only one cup of coffee a day, okay? No more than that, I mean it.”

“Yes, mom.” The older man smirked, poking Peter’s ribs with his foot, but the young man grabbed it before he could tickle him. He glared at him sternly, resuming the massage, moving his fingers up to his heel and ankle.

“If you act like a baby, I’ve gotta act like your mom.” Peter rolled his eyes, hearing the other man chuckle.

“Is it weird that I find it hot when you mother-hen me? Does that mean I have a mommy kink? Since you call me daddy in bed, should I call you mommy?” He pretended to wonder out loud and Peter burst out laughing, shaking his head in exasperation.

“You’re impossible, Tony Stark.” He smiled fondly at his older boyfriend, finishing the massage by rubbing his toes one by one, before moving to the other foot.

“You like it.” He wiggled his eyebrows with a smirk, but Peter just kept smiling at him.

“I love it.”

They fell silent as Peter moved his hands over Tony’s left foot. It was established early in their relationship that Peter gave great massages, his super-strength and super-soft hands were the perfect combination for a good kneading. Whenever they came home from battle battered and bruised, Peter would rub Tony’s back, his feet, his calves – not many people knew that, but operating the Iron Man suit actually required a lot of strength and it often put a strain on Tony’s body.

“Come here, baby,” Tony called him quietly once he was done with his left foot and Peter went willingly, snuggling to his chest and trying to make himself as small as possible in order to fit against the older man. “I’m really gonna miss you, love.”

“I know, I’m gonna miss you, too, Tony, so much. You have no idea,” Peter whispered back, nosing the other’s throat, smelling what was left of his cologne and aftershave, a smell he grew so used to it made him calm and relaxed.

“I think I do.” He felt Tony smile against the crown of his had and he sighed.

“Just one more year, okay?” He raised his head so he could look at the older man’s face. He looked back at him, smiling softly. Tony held his chin and kissed his lips gently as he nodded.  

“Just one more year,” he agreed, and they fell silent again, Peter’s head back to resting on his chest. “Next summer, when you come back for good – will you – where are you staying?“

“Are you preemptively kicking me out?” He asked, amused, moving again to look at the older man, who frowned at him.

“Of course not!” He sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds, before focusing on his face again “Peter, I really want you to move in with me, but are you sure you wanna do this? Baby, you’re so young, you could –“

“Don’t ruin this, Tony.” He placed a finger on his lips, beaming. “I wanna remember today as the day you asked me to move in.  Don’t taint it with one your speeches about how I should be sleeping around with college boys.”

“That’s not what –“ The older man started indignantly and Peter laughed, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Shh, just shut up and kiss me, that’s all I wanna remember.” He didn’t give Tony time to answer as he leaned in and crushed their lips together. For a few seconds, the older man still tried to protest, but soon melted into the kiss, hands sliding down Peter’s back to hold him close. When they parted, Tony had a slightly confused look.

“So, what just happened is I asked you to move in and you said yes?” Peter grinned, nodding excitedly, and the older man chuckled, petting his curls fondly. “You do realize that your future involves a lot of foot rubs and back massages, right? You’re basically marrying an old man.”

“I think I can handle that, I have strong, steady hands, so we’re good.” He closed the distance between them again, tasting Tony’s laugh on his lips as he closed his eyes, thinking that was a very small price to pay.

[hailing-stars]

like a lullaby 

Read on AO3

Trope: Hair Playing 

Summary 

Peter didn’t know how much time passed before Tony’s dad reflexes kicked in.

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there, hunched over a picnic table, with his head cradled in his hands, but he knew it wasn’t long.  Pain made time move slowly, and Tony found him fast.

His and Morgan’s arrival was announced by a soft poke to his side.

“Pete? Are you okay?” asked Morgan. He didn’t respond, didn’t know if he was still capable of producing words. “You were right, dad. Homework ate Peter.”

OR 

Peter gets a migraine and Tony takes care of him

like a lullaby 

Peter wiped sweat off his forehead and tried to ignore the aching at the back of his eyes.

Usually he regretted ignoring it. Usually it was a sure sign a migraine was coming, but he clung to denial and continued to glare at his laptop screen, trying to see the words on the screen out in the blinding sun.

That probably wasn’t helping him fight off the incoming migraine, but it couldn’t be helped. It was a nice day, and if he was stuck studying and doing homework on a day like that, he could at least do it outside.

He’d set up a study station with his laptop, notebooks, highlights and textbooks outside, on a picnic table, under a tree, next to the lake. It was that spot exactly that made Tony’s lake house his favorite place to study. It was quiet, where the city was loud with sirens and arguing and the temptation to ditch school work in favor of swinging through the streets as Spider-Man.

He’d rather be doing that.

He was good at being Spider-Man, good at helping people, and once he’d been good at school, too. Not anymore. He’d come back from the dead, rematerialized, but not all of him. He lost something, he just wasn’t sure what it was.

Peter liked to say part of his brain got jumbled and wires were crisscrossed when they were being pulled back together. Tony liked telling him he was wrong.

“It’s anxiety,” he’d told him. The boat under them had rocked, and Tony cast his line out into the lake.

Peter remembered watching it as it soared through the air, and landed off in the distance, the orange bobber moving with the water. He still didn’t know why they were fishing. They had never been before, and haven’t been since, but ever since Peter came back from the dead, Tony had gone crazy doing those types of things.

He was all fun and games, all the time. Peter supposed that was a privilege well earned by the man who saved the world.

“I can’t focus on anything,” Peter had told him, as if to say it wasn’t anxiety. It couldn’t be. “I’m behind in all my classes.”

Tony had taken his eyes off his bobber and shot him a look of concern. “Let me set you up with a therapist.”

He had refused.

He didn’t need to sit around and talk about his problems with a stranger who wouldn’t understand. It wouldn’t help. He had Spider-Man to help relieve tension and stress. He’d made a decision that day on the boat. He’d just have to work harder and study more hours.

And that was what he did or at least, that’s what he tried to do.  

The ache in his eyes was tightening into something like a band around his entire skull. He glared at his computer screen, scratched at the back of his hand, then copied down what he thought were the important chunks of text, only to cross them out and write something else in their place.

It didn’t matter, though. Just seconds later, after crossing out even more of his notes and aggressively carving an x through the page, he was blasted in the side of the head with water. He whipped his head around, and his eyes narrowed in on Tony. He stood nearby and wore a sling around his arm that supported a giant, Tony-Stark-upgraded water gun.

All fun, all games, all the time.

“Watch where you’re shooting that thing,” said Peter. He smoothed down the area of his hair that’d taken the blast. “You’re going to get my books wet.”

“Guess that means it’s time for a break, then.”

“I can’t,” said Peter. He tapped his pen against this notebook. He had so much work to do, so much catching up, and Tony knew this, because Peter explained it to him just about a million times.

“Play water wars with me and Morgan,” said Tony. He leveled the gun at him in a threatening manner, then patted the tank that held the ammunition. “Or face the consequences.”

Peter stared down the barrel of the gun. “You know it’s supposed to be the kid distracting the adults away from work, right? Where did all the adults go, by the way?”

His response earned him another blast from the water gun. The water felt good on a day like that, and he didn’t mind it, even it did splash off him and sunk into the pages of his notebook. It made him wish he could go play with Tony and Morgan, that he wasn’t stuck at a picnic table doing homework on the first day of his three-day weekend.

“Being a grown up is overrated,” said Tony. “Ask Rhodey. But okay, fine, be boring and responsible while Morgan and I have fun.”

Peter watched him go, then tried to return his focus back on his classes.

It wasn’t the easiest feat to pull.

It was hot. There were beads of sweat prickling down the back of his neck, and the glare from the sun hitting his computer screen tightened the invisible band around his skull. He shut the computer and switched to his textbook. It didn’t help much.

The words on the page were scrambled just like Peter’s brain, his mind wandered, his knee started to bounce. He was suffocating.

Any second he was going to stop breathing, he was going to disintegrate there at that table. Any second, the end was coming. His breath hitched. He gripped the edges of the picnic table with both hands to keep himself tethered to the earth and took a deep breath.

Out and in, like he read online. He was fine. Thanos was dead. The infinity stones were back where they belonged, and Tony had saved the universe.

Fine. Everything was fine.

He was fine.

A swan swooped down out of the sky and landed in the lake. He stared at it, took another deep breath, and for a second time, returned his eyes back to his books.

It hit him all at once. A sudden explosion of pain in the back of his neck and his forehead. He couldn’t attempt to plow through it, so he gave up instead. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and held them there as he let his upper body fall over the picnic table, all top of all his books.

*

Peter didn’t know how much time passed before Tony’s dad reflexes kicked in.

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there, hunched over a picnic table, with his head cradled in his hands, but he knew it wasn’t long.  Pain made time move slowly, and Tony found him fast.

His and Morgan’s arrival was announced by a soft poke to his side.

“Pete? Are you okay?” asked Morgan. He didn’t respond, didn’t know if he was still capable of producing words. “You were right, dad. Homework ate Peter.”

She grumbled another wordy sentence about never wanting to go to school, and Tony laughed.

“He’s not been eaten,” said Tony. He put a soothing hand on Peter’s back and started rubbing circles. “Right, Pete? Please don’t tell us the books won, or Morgan will be traumatized.”

Peter groaned and tried to focus on the comfort Tony’s hand brought, on the circles, instead the pain in his head.

“I need actual words, bud. Confirmation that you’re still in there.”

“Head ‘urts.”

“Just like dad, huh?” asked Tony, with a sigh. “Tried to work through a headache only to make it worse.”

It was hard for Peter to think back and remember the times when Tony was work obsessed.

That time seemed so far away. Ever since the snap, ever since Morgan was born, and Peter was brought back, Tony didn’t work. He created, but that was different from work. Creating was for fun, and usually resulted upgraded water guns or other fancy toys to entertain Morgan.

“Ok come on, you’re done.”

“But –“said Peter. It was just the beginning of a protest, and it was one he couldn’t finish, so he didn’t even try. Instead he let Tony coax him up from the picnic table and into the house, where he was hit with cool air and shelter from the sun.

“Lights to 20, Fri,” said Tony, as they walked into the living room.

Tony grabbed some pillows, sunk into the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. He put the pillows against his lap and made a gesture with his arm for Peter to come and lay down.

Once his head hit the pillow, Tony put his cool, metal, prosthetic hand against Peter’s forehead. It was instant relief. It didn’t take all the pain away, but it let Peter close his eyes and imagine he might feel normal again someday.

“Dad, is Peter dying?” asked Morgan.

“No honey, he’s okay, his head just hurts a little bit, so we’re going to keep the lights low and our voices quiet, alright?” said Tony. He put his fingers, his real fingers, through Peter’s hair, again and again. “Hey Morgunna, want to do us a favor?”

“Yeah.” She reduced her voice to a whisper.

“Go find mom and tell her we need a water bottle, the cold pack from the freezer and the migraine medicine, the strong stuff. Think you can remember all that?”

“Mmhmm,” said Morgan, and Peter listened as her tiny footsteps got further and further away until they were gone, and all he wanted to focus on was Tony’s hand running through his hair and his other planted on his forehead. If he could just get lost in that, and the comfort it provided, maybe he could at least pretend his head wasn’t about to explode.  

When Pepper came into the living room, and brought all the items Tony requested, he made him sit up, just long enough to take a few sips of water and wash the pills down. He collapsed back down on the pillow immediately afterward, but when Tony’s hand didn’t come back to rest on his forehead, Peter grabbed it and moved it there himself.

Tony took it back, and Peter made a disgruntled sound until it returned, that time, to press the cold pack against his forehead instead of just the metal.

Like a soothing lullaby, the kind with rhythm, but also the kind that didn’t need words, his fingers started working their way through his hair again. It was relaxing. It lured him to sleep, and he drifted in and out as the medicine took effect and the pain ebbed away.

He stayed half-conscious, listening but not really comprehending Tony and Pepper as they chatted. The TV had been set to low, and at some point, Peter had gotten jostled when Morgan climbed on Tony to give him goodnight kisses. Sometime after that, someone had tossed a blanket over him.  

His headache was reduced to just something dull, just leftovers from what it was before, so, slowly, he sat up. Tony was still there with him on the couch, and he watched Peter as he rubbed his eyes and took a drink from the water bottle on the coffee table.

“Better?” asked Tony, as Peter screwed the cap back on the water and set it down on the table.

“Yeah,” said Peter, and his words came out like a breath of relief.

“Does that happen a lot?” asked Tony. Peter stared back at him. “Do you get headaches like that a lot?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say a lot.”

“How many times in a week?”

He shouldn’t have sat up. He should have pretended that he was still asleep, or that his homework really had eaten him. Either of those options were preferable to this interrogation. He knew it was an interrogation. Tony was using the Dad Voice, and it demanded his answer.

“Maybe like two or three times,” said Peter. He sunk back into the couch cushions, wishing he could disappear inside them.

Tony let out a tired, weary sigh. “That’s too many, Pete. You don’t have to live like that.”

Peter didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how not to live like that.

“I want you to see a therapist,” said Tony. He was still using the Dad Voice, and Peter knew giving his complaints a voice wouldn’t matter if Tony had already made up his mind, so he went with logical instead.

“I should be seeing a neurologist.”

“May’s told me you’ve already been,” said Tony. “But I thought it had been resolved since I hadn’t heard anything else about it for months.”

Peter wondered when May had told Tony about the headaches, how often they discuss him with him knowing anything about it.

“She also told me she’s been trying to get you to go to therapy, too,” said Tony. Apparently a lot. They talked about him a lot. “She says you’ve been stressed out and anxious, and so this isn’t your choice anymore, I’m making an executive decision.”

He stared at him and guessed that was that. Whatever Tony decided, May would go along with. They both just really took the whole co-parenting idea too far.

“No shame in getting help,” he continued. “I wish I would’ve started therapy a lot sooner than I did.”

“I’m going to bed,” said Peter, standing up from the couch. He left the dark living room and Tony as cold, as fast, as he could.

He regretted it as soon as he was in his own bed, under the covers, with his head on a different pillow. Without Tony’s hand singing lullabies through his hair, he tossed and turned the rest of the night.

*

“It’s time to get up! It’s time to get up!”

Peter blinked his eyes open, but absolutely refused to move. He was stubborn and wanted to hang onto sleep as long as possible. His bed was moving, though. It was shaking under him, because Morgan Stark was jumping up and down somewhere near his feet

“It’s time to plllayyyy!”

A few drops of water hit the back of his head, and he sat up quickly. Morgan wore shorts, a t-shirt, and had a bandana tied in her hair. She had war paint on her face, and a tiny plastic water gun in her hand.

Like father, like daughter.

Peter imagined himself jumping out of bed and finding his own water gun, imagine chasing her and Tony around the yard, and wished he had the time for it. Thanks to his migraine yesterday, he missed a whole day of work and now had to play catch up instead of water guns.

“I’m sorry, Morgan,” said Peter. “I can’t. I’m too busy today.”

She finally stopped jumping and titled her head at him. “Dad said that you’d say that, and he also told me to tell you he’s taking all your school stuff hostage and the only way to get it back is by force.”

“Of course he did.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed, and his feet hit the carpet. “Where is he?”

“Outside,” said Morgan. She jumped off his bed and followed him out into the hallway. “You should probably get a shield or something because he still has the super soaker 3000.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“But there’s this really cool one in the garage. We used to use it all the time.”

“Pretty sure dad gave that one back,” said Peter, as they both made it to the bottom of the staircase.

Peter marched out of the house, fueled by anger he was too spent to feel last night. It wasn’t fair Tony was forcing him to go to therapy. It wasn’t fair that he didn’t seem to understand how important school was to him, and that he insisted on playing games instead of getting work done.

He spotted Tony on the dock, with the super soaker 3000 strapped around his chest, but that didn’t stop him. He continued his march towards him, and Morgan continued following him, up until the grass became wood. He went on without her, and with Tony watching him with a raised eyebrow.

He shouldn’t look so surprised. The genius had to know what was coming.

“Where’d you put my school stuff?” demanded Peter.

“Oh,” said Tony. “Did Morgan not tell you my terms?”

Peter wanted to roll his eyes but resisted in attempt to look less like a teenager, and more like someone to fear. He wondered if it was what happened when superheroes got old and retired. They had to play out their battles with children and water guns.

“Really?”

“Really,” said Tony. He pumped the gun a few times. “And you came all the way out here without a weapon.”

A drop of sweat dripped across the back of Peter’s neck. It was so hot, just like it had been the day before. The sunlight gleamed against the lake, and an idea came like a spark, one that must’ve lit up his eyes.

“Parker don’t you dare – “

He did dare.

Peter shoved Tony off the dock but hadn’t been considering that his reflexes were so incredibly sharp. He put all the blame on the prosthetic. The same hand that cooled off his forehead the night before locked around his arm, and they both fell into the lake, plunging into the water at the exact same time.

Underwater, Peter yanked his arm free from Tony’s grip and breached the surface. Between earfuls of water he could hear Morgan laughing from the shore and Tony splashing around next to him.

“That’s cheating,” said Tony. He sent a splash Peter’s way, and he failed to dodge it.

Peter spat out lake water. It drizzled down his chin. “No it’s not. It’s winning.”

“It’s a draw, smartass.” He swam closer and dunked him under with the prosthetic arm. Peter came back up just in time to hear Tony finish with, “That’s winning.”

He spat out more lake water, except that time, he aimed it at Tony, then shook his head back and forth, trying to air out his hair. They splashed each other a few more times while they treaded water, until Tony got clobbered in the eyes with water, and Peter laughed. The sound was like a slap in the face for both of them. Tony stopped rubbing his eyes, stared, blinked.

It was a sound that had been missing, but not discovered as missing until it was found again.

His muscles were looser, when he hadn’t even realized they’d been tight, and when he met Tony’s stare, the idea that he’d been right along wafted around in the air. The snap hadn’t fried his IQ, it broke something in his spirit.

“Dad!” Morgan shouted. “Can I come swim, too?”

“Uh, yeah, stay right there,” said Tony. He blinked at Peter a couple of times, as if seeing him for the first time, then started his swim over to her. “I have to go find your water wings.”

“Awww dad I know how to swim.”

“Too bad. You’re wearing floaties until you bring home a few gold medals.”

Peter followed Tony to shore, but only to go inside and switch his soaking pajamas out for his swim trunks.

He spent the rest of the day doing backflips off the dock to impress Morgan and laughing at Tony when he tried to pull of the same moves. His mocking got him a few blasts of water from the super soaker 3000, but he didn’t mind.  

They had dinner outside, once Tony put his water guns down long enough to man the grill, and after the sun went down behind the lake, Peter was just as burnt as the marshmallow on the end of his stick. They sat around the fire, eating smores, chatting, laughing for hours, and Peter didn’t want it to end.

It had too, though, and the ending to that night was signified by Tony standing from his chair.

“Alright, time for bed, Morgan.”

She didn’t answer. She was already asleep, faceup in the grass, and holding a half-eaten s’more in one hand.

“Out like a light,” laughed Pepper. She was the one to pick her up off the ground, while Tony took the s’more out of her hand and tossed it into the fire for the flames to eat. “I’ll take her to bed. You guys should… talk.”

Peter waited until Pepper disappeared inside the house with Morgan before he stared at Tony. Just the fire sat between them. He didn’t have any of the anger he’d had before. He knew Tony was right, but he wasn’t ready to admit it.

“I don’t want to talk,” said Peter, but he didn’t want to be alone, either. “I just… do you wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure, buddy,” said Tony. “I’m picking though. I’m not watching another Star Wars or Harry Potter movie for as long as I live.”

Peter didn’t care what movie went on the TV. He didn’t plan on watching it. He was tried from swimming but didn’t trust himself to fall asleep on his own. When they both plopped down on the couch, Peter used Tony as a pillow and waited for him to start playing with his hair, waited for the lullaby to start, so he could drift off, and actually get some rest.

*

Rain pounding against the house woke Peter up the next morning.

He blinked his eyes open, and crawled out from under Tony’s arm, careful not to wake him up. Tony was still snoring as Peter stepped out of the living room, so he figured he’d been successful.

His feet took him out to the porch automatically. He needed to watch it, and hear it more clearly, the way the rain hit the lake, the way it made everything new and fresh. Besides that, the mist that blew on the porch with the breeze felt good on his sunburnt face.

It was relaxing, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt that relaxed, that rested, and that was sort of the problem. He hadn’t realized something was wrong until he had a day that felt right. He didn’t know there was another way to live, the way he used to live, until Tony forced him to see it.

But his realization came a little bit too late. It was Sunday, and later on he’d have to drive back to the city. The next morning, he’d have to return to school.

The front door opened with a squeak, and Peter turned just in time to see a tube of Aloe flying at his head. He caught it with one hand and tried to make a face at Tony. It turned into a grimace, into regret, as the sunburn crinkled with pain.

“You’re a lobster,” said Tony, as he walked across the porch to stand next to him. “Ever heard of sunscreen? It’s this magical stuff that keeps us all from getting skin cancer.” He put his hands on the wooden handrail, then looked at Peter. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“I was just – I was watching – “

“-We have a lot of work to do.”

Peter frowned again. “But you- “

“I figured I could help you knock out some of that studying before you leave today,” said Tony. He gestured beyond the porch. “What else are rainy days for?”

“I was thinking about that,” said Peter. “Maybe I don’t go back today. Maybe I stay an extra night.”

“That’s an awful long way to drive first thing in the morning, right before school, Pete.”

“Maybe I take the day off school.”

“A day off, huh?” asked Tony. He swiped the aloe from Peter’s hand, and popped open the cap. “And what would you do on this day off?”

“Maybe we can take Morgan to the zoo,” Peter suggested, with a shrug. “And there’s this new ice cream shop she’d love near central park.”

“She does love ice cream,” said Tony. He squeezed some aloe into his hands. “And it’s been awhile since we’ve been to the zoo.”

Peter closed his eyes and cringed, waited for his face to hurt as Tony attacked him with aloe, but the gel felt cool as it was spread over his forehead and both his cheeks. Once he was done, Peter opened his eyes, seeing Tony as he set the tube down on the handrail.

“Then maybe after we can see if we can find any therapy, uh, places, in my area,” said Peter. He swallowed a lump in his throat. It was harder to admit than he wanted it to be, but once it was out, it was a breath of fresh air.  

Tony grinned at him, pulled him into a hug before Peter had a chance to react, and kissed the top of his head through his hair. They broke out of the hug, only for Tony to aggressively mess up his hair.

“I’m proud of you, kid,” said Tony. He was still grinning as he turned and walked back towards the front door. He paused, with his hand on the door frame. “I gotta go fabricate an email to your school about you having the flu.”

Peter looked back out towards the lake, where the rain was still beating into it. It was fine. Everything was fine, the universe, the world, his world, and someday, he would be fine, too.

[cutie1365]

A Kid from Queens Part 9

A Kid from Queens Part 9

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 3551

Warnings: underage drinking, if there’s anything else I should add please let me know!

A/N: Wow it’s been a while. I know. But please give this some love! Like and reblog, let me know your favorite part and what you think is coming next in the comments! Please, these things are so small but help us writers so much! Thank you!

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

You began to stir, your whole body engulfed in warmth. You heard soft snores next to you and opened your eyes slowly. Lying next to you, with his arms innocently draped around you, was none other than Peter Parker. All you wanted to do was nuzzle your head back into his chest and fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. As you sleepily inched closer to him, a loud knock shook your room.

“Y/N, it’s me.” You heard from the other side of the door. Happy.

Peter shot up in bed, you both stared at each other wide eyed. You felt your heart begin to race. You untangled yourself from Peter and jumped out of bed. He almost began to speak, but you placed your hand over his mouth, placing another finger over your lip to shush him, and shoved him into the bathroom. You closed the door as quietly as you could, and made your way to Happy.

“Hey Happy.” You pulled the door open and spoke in a sleepy tone.

“Were you asleep?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Uh... yeah?” You stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hm. That’s new.” Happy looked surprised, nearly everyone in the tower knew you haven’t been sleeping for a while. You’d roam the halls at night, work in the lab, train in the gym, anything to keep your mind off of the circumstances that plagued your reality.

“Anyway, the movers are coming Monday morning to get your furniture and deliver it to your apartment. I’ll have someone leave some boxes for you to pack up the rest of your things. This is a hard deadline kid, you gonna be ready?” Happy asked. You could tell that he was stressed about this whole moving thing. You knew for a fact that closing was about a month away, but he probably wanted to get you out of his hair. One less thing to stress about.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine Hap, don’t worry.” You reassured him.

“Monday.” He repeated with a stern look.

“Monday.” You confirmed, nodding.

“And label the boxes you want going to your room upstate.” He reminded you.

“You got it.” You nodded again.

“The labs being packed up today so no tinkering.” He pointed his finger at you.

“This is a tinkering free zone, don’t worry.” You raised your hands in surrender.

“Alright.” Happy nodded, then suspiciously peaked his head inside your room, but didn’t seem to find anything.

“Bye Happy.” You smiled, he shot back a glare but you knew he secretly loved you, he was just stressed that’s all.

One he left you closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. Peter snuck back out of the bathroom carefully.

“That was a close call.” He spoke.

“Just be glad it wasn’t Pepper. She would have sniffed you out in a heartbeat.” You smiled.

“I don’t doubt it... so moving huh? It’s finally here.” Peter said, as you moved to sit at the edge of your bed.

“Yeah, we finalized on the apartment last week. It feels so weird, this place has been my home for so long now.” You looked around the room longingly, there were so many memories in this place.

“Have you always lived here?” Peter asked, moving to sit next to you.

“Well no, I- well I didn’t live with my dad until I was about 5 or so. I was a happy little accident, I’m pretty sure my mom was just a one night stand. Tony took me in after she died and he found out. I lived in Malibu with him for a few years, well Pepper really raised me at that point because he was a little, ya know, he was Tony, he’s changed and grown a lot. Um, then I came to a boarding school here in New York when I was 8 or so, until MIT. So of and on for 10 years?” You spoke, looking down at your hands. You didn’t like talking about your mother, considering you knew almost nothing about her.

“I never knew that. No one ever talks about your background.” Peter spoke softly, he could tell it was a sensitive subject for you, and reached out to reassuringly take your hand.

“No one really knows. We try to keep it as private as we can. That’s nearly impossible these days, everything I say and do gets blasted across page 6.” You groaned, even things you don’t do blow up on the internet. If you had a dollar for every rumor that was spread about you, you’d almost be as rich as your father.

“I don’t know how you do it. I never could.” Peter smiled.

“Perks of being a Stark I guess. Comes with the territory.” You shrugged. There was only so much you could do about it, most of the time you simply ignore it.

“Speaking of territory, not that I’m trying to kick you out, but don’t you normally do rounds at this time. Not that I track you or anything, I’m just sure Queens can’t possibly function without you.” You laughed nervously, which was out of character for you. You tried to gain some semblance of the confident front you usually portray.

“Let me guess, the suit has a tracker in it too?” Peter laughed.

“All the suits do, you’re not special Spidey.” You smirked.

“Ouch, I’m hurt. But also you’re right, I am late. I’ll send you the address for the party tonight. May can probably drive if you want?” Peter suggested, grabbing his suit.

“I’ll probably hire a car, I can snag you and Ned on the way if that’s easier?” You offered, you didn’t want May to have to drive all the way downtown for you.

“That works, I’ll see you tonight then.” Peter smiled sweetly, and after slipping into his suit, he exited from the balcony once more.

You spent the rest of the day packing up your room, mainly your closet. That also gave you time to think about what you would wear tonight. What do people wear to a highschool party? This is new territory for you. You can do galas, socials, balls, talk shows, press releases, but highschool? This shouldn’t be that hard. You get a call that your driver will be arriving in about 30 minutes, so you know you have to act fast.

You decide to leave your hair natural and put on a bit of makeup. Nothing extreme, mascara and highlighter to give you a natural glow. You slipped into some jeans, a simple red top and some wedges. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous. You’ve been to the met gala for christ’s sake, this should be nothing compared to that, yet here you are.

As you pick up Peter and Ned, your nerves begin to calm. You feel comfortable around them.

Your driver drops the three of you off at the party, which was much farther into the suburbs than you expected. But wow the house was beautiful. And huge, which means something coming from you. Whatever this kid’s parents do, they’re doing a very good job.

Before you walked inside, your phone began to ring as the name of your publicist showed across the screen. Peter and Ned turned back to you, and Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Go ahead in, I’ll meet you in there.” You smiled. Raising the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked curiously.

“Ms. Stark, the New York Post is wanting a comment from you regarding the-.” Your publicist spoke in a very professional tone before you cut her off.

“Linda, it’s almost 10:00 at night. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until the morning. Goodnight.” You told her, sternly, but you should have listened.

“Yes, Ms. Stark.” She replied with a nervous tone before you ended the call.

As you entered the house, you heard yelling and laughter coming from the DJ stand and a beautiful girl walking away from Peter and Ned.

“Penis Parker, what’s up? Where’s your pal Spider-Man? Let me guess: in Canada with your imaginary girlfriend? That’s not Spider-Man, that’s just Ned in a red shirt.” The guy, who you could only assume to be Flash from what you’ve heard about Peter’s friends, taunted him.

You walked up to Peter, smiled and placed a hand on his arm, apologizing for the phone call.

“Holy shit is that Y/N Stark?” Flash speaks over the microphone and everyone turns around to face you. You smile back, and hear people start to whisper in awe. You gave Peter a look that said ‘I told you so’ and a wink.

“Well, well, well. You might not be Spider-Man, but I’m sure glad you’re here.” Flash left his DJ stand and made his way over to you, Peter, and Ned. He smirked as he attempted to flirt with you.

“You must be Flash.” You smiled, though he’d never know it wasn’t meant as a compliment.

“So you’ve heard of me?” His smirk grows even wider, “What brings a Stark here?”

“Well, my good friend Spider-Man was telling me about this party Peter invited him to, and he was just so crushed he wasn’t going to make it. So I agreed to fill in for the night.” You lied, and Flash was eating it up.

“Seems like a win for everyone. Well Parker, I didn’t know you had it in you. Showing up with Spider-Man’s girlfriend, you’ll be the talk of the town come Monday.” Flash patted Peter on the back, and your eyes went wide as you processed what he just said.

“I’m sorry, did you just say girlfriend?” You put on a brave face, but internally you were freaking out.

“You haven’t heard? Well I’m sure you had a very busy night.” Flash stated, with a wink that was clearly trying to imply something.

“Heard what?” You asked, trying to play dumb but you had a feeling of what was coming.

“See for yourself,” Flash handed you his phone open to the tabloid article, with a picture from last night of you and Peter, in the suit, sitting on your balcony edge. The sun set behind you, and you were looking at him as if you were the only two people on Earth, or in the universe for that matter. The picture was such high quality, it must have been taken from somewhere nearby. One of the other skyscrapers, probably the Empire State building next door.

The headline read: Stark’s Sunset Sexcapade with Spider-Man.

“When was this posted?” You asked, panic setting in. This is what your publicist was calling about.

“About an hour or so ago?” Flash shrugged and you handed him back his phone. In your pocket, your own phone began to buzz repeatedly, and you knew that meant a string of texts from your father. That could only be about one thing.

“Could you excuse me for a minute?” You rushed off down the hall, Peter could sense your fear, anger, whatever it was, and followed you. You slipped into an empty room, beginning to read the texts, as Peter entered the room behind you.

Tony Stark: Got something you wanna tell me?

Tony Stark: Normally I ignore these sort of stories and rumors, but that picture looks pretty real.

Tony Stark: Should I have Friday check the security cameras?

Y/N Stark: I’m sure you have more pressing matters to tend to at the moment

“Are you ok?” Peter asked timidly.

“No I’m not ok! You saw the article, do you understand what this means?” You shouted back, a little louder than you should have.

“It means people think you’re dating Spider-Man.” He stated simply.

“Ya know for a genius, you’re pretty dumb.” You shot back.

“I don’t see how this could be a bad thing? Is it really that horrible to imagine us together?” Peter asked gently.

“Yes!” You yelled, and Peter immediately looked hurt, “I mean no, but- It’s not you Peter, it’s Spider-Man. And you’ve just given yourself a weakness.” You tried to explain.

“What?” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Before, no one had a clue who you were. Now they can connect you to me. Meaning if they want to get to you, they’re going to use me. Or if they want to get to me, they’ll use you.” You broke it down for him, as your phone buzzed again.

Tony Stark: This is a pressing matter, and you know I can’t allow this.

Y/N Stark: Funny, I don’t remember asking for permission or having any reason to need to. Nothing happened, pressing matter solved.

You quickly turned off your phone before you could see a reply.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Peter swore. You looked up to him and your demeanor changed. You shouldn’t be taking this out on him, you should have been more careful.

“It’s not your fault. I’ve had a target on my back since I was a kid. To date no one has succeeded in kidnapping me.” You tried to cheer him up, though you were doing a shitty job.

“What are you going to do now?” Peter asked curiously, but also cautiously. He knew it was never a good idea to piss off a Stark.

“There’s nothing I can do, so I’m going to get very drunk and forget it happened.” You stated simply, and exited the room, returning to the party. You didn’t see the crushed look on Peter’s face, thinking you wanted to forget about last night.

And you did exactly what you said you would do: get very drunk.

You didn’t see Peter for the rest of the party, and you wondered where he’d snuck off to. You hoped he wasn’t mad at you for yelling at him, though he’d have every right to be. You finally stumbled upon Ned and attempted to ask him if he’d seen Peter. In your drunken state it came out as more of a mumble littered between laughter. He knew you were in pretty deep, and while taking care of a drunk Stark would probably be the highlight of his life, he didn’t want this responsibility to fall on him.

“Peter? It’s Y/n, she’s, well, listen for yourself.” Ned had gotten Peter on the phone, after helping you to the spare bedroom you were in before.

“Peter?? Is that you?” You giggled into the phone as you plopped on the bed, “Hiiii I miss you, where’d you go?” You now wore the expression of a sad puppy, which, if he were where to see it, Peter would have thought adorable.

“I’m sorry, I’m on my way back.” Peter reassured you.

“This party was amazing! Everyone is soooo nice. I wonder why?” You asked innocently, hanging off the bed.

“Probably because you’re a billionaire.” Peter laughed, at your state, as he walked back through the door to the house.

“Ooooh for the clout, gotcha gotcha, cool cool cool cool.” You replied, your drunken state now turning sleepy, just as Peter walked into the bedroom and Ned stood to leave.

“Peter, as awesome as this has been, it’s your turn to deal with the drunk celebrity.” Ned took his phone out of your hands and made his way towards the door.

“Byeeeeee Ned.” You smiled and shot him some finger guns. He shot some back, and raised an eyebrow to Peter before leaving.

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked, moving to sit onto the bed you’re now sprawled across.

“Iiii feel great. I mean, there’s the whole ‘my dad’s probably gonna kill me’ thing, but like besides that, I’m good.” You attempted to sit up, falling back down, and having Peter assist and hold you up.

“I’m sure it will be fine. Nothing happened, I was just helping out a friend in need.” He tried to convince himself that that’s all it was.

“Right. Friend. Cool.” You mumbled, Peter raised an eyebrow but didn’t press any further, “Oh, that Liz chick totally likes you by the way.”

“What? Liz?” Peter asked, and it almost seemed like a bit of excitement in his voice, or maybe it was just surprise.

“Mhm, you must have some special effect on older girls.” You rolled your eyes.

“What does that mean?” Peter asked, but he knew.

“Nothing.” You turned away from him, jealousy sobering you up quickly.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Peter smiled, he was going there. You simply shrugged and crossed your arms.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” Peter spoke, and you whipped around to face him.

“Excuse me, Mr., I am not jealous, ok, I’m perfectly fine.” You nearly fell off the bed, Peter caught you and helped you upright.

“Admit it, you’re jealous.” Peter smirked.

“Am not.” You argued.

“Are too.” He held his smirk.

“Am not.” You laughed and playfully pushed him. Your hands still pressed against his shirt, you paused, weighing your options, glancing at his lips. You leaned in slowly,and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you back for a moment before stopping you.

“Y/N, you’re drunk. It wouldn’t be right.” Peter spoke, his voice barely over a whisper.

“I’m sorry.” You said, just as quietly, pulling away even farther from him.

“I don’t want you to do something you’d regret.” Peter explained, and you knew he was doing the right thing.

“Probably a good idea.” You stated monotonically, thinking you’d just gotten shot down, your drunk mind not entirely understanding the situation.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to though-” Peter began, and you plopped back straight onto the bed with a sigh.

“I don’t wanna date Spider-Man.” You said after a few moments of silence, no doubt you had had a whole conversation in your head between then and this was the next logical thought coming to the surface.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Peter asked, internally laughing at your drunken state.

“There’s this kid. He’s from Queens.” You explained.

“Must be a lucky guy.” Peter smirked.

“You got that right.” You retorted, causing Peter to laugh and stand up from the bed with arms outstretched.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Peter helped you to your feet.

“Where’d you run off to tonight?” You asked, as he began to gather your things.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Fought some bad guys, got dropped in a lake by some weird bird man, almost drowned.” He stated casually.

“You WHAT.” You nearly shouted at him.

“Yeah, your dad kinda bailed me out.” He explained, scratching the back of his neck.

“My dad?” You furrowed your brows, wasn’t he out of the country?

“Well one of his suits.” Peter explained, handing you your jacket and helping you put it on.

“Do you not know how to swim?” You teased.

“Well, uh, you know the bird man kinda brought me pretty far up... so my parachute deployed and it got kinda tangled up and-” Peter explained slowly.

“Omg I could have killed you. This is my fault Peter I’m sorry. I should have programed the parachute to deploy at your command not automatically I-” You whipped around to face him, grabbing onto his arms and rambling.

“Hey hey, its ok, I’m ok, it’s not your fault.” Peter reassured you, hugging you to calm you down.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I lost you.” You muttered into his chest. Peter smiled sadly, wanting to promise he’d never leave, but knowing his line of work, stayed silent and comforted you instead.

Peter got you into the car, thankful the driver wasn’t Happy. Almost immediately you fell asleep on his shoulder.

When you arrived back at the tower, Peter helped you back up to your room. You were so sleepy he thought he might have to carry you. You made it into the elevator, but on the long ride up about 90 floors, you began to nod off again. Peter let you sleep, and scooped you into his arms effortlessly. He could hear your soft, slow breaths, and almost cringed as the elevator dinged so loudly as it arrived at your floor, hoping it wouldn’t wake you.

He carried you into your room, and placed you gently into bed. As he began to tuck you in and pull the covers over you, you began to stir.

“You were right.” You mutter softly, looking up to Peter with a gentle smile before closing your eyes again and nuzzling into the pillow.

“About?” He asked quietly.

“I could have, possibly, a little bit, I mean there’s a chance that-” You spoke slowly, drawing out your sleepy words in an attempt to avoid the subject.

“Y/N.” Peter spoke your name so softly.

“I was jealous.” You admitted, before falling back asleep.

A smile spread across Peter’s face, as he finished tucking you in and making sure you’re ok. He grabbed a glass of water and sat it on your nightstand for when you wake up. Before leaving, he took one last look at you, laying so peacefully. He gently brushed the hair out of your face and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Your father is going to kill me.” He muttered and sighed softly, realizing he was in too deep now.

Chapter 10 Coming Soon

Taglist in the reblog. If you want to be added fill out my google form in my bio or comment/message me!

[in-tua-deep]

yooo pls give me headcanons on five being an even younger child. unless you're saving them for fics ofc!!

Actual little kid Five or from the one fic idea I have where Five ends up being even younger than 13?? Regardless, I have a lot of thoughts so I’ll do both!

under the cut bc I can already tell this is gon get long

Actual baby Five - 

I already mentioned my headcanon that as a little kid when his powers were just manifesting, his powers sort of? Acted up just a little? Like he’d get little blue sparks playing across his hands constantly but without actually jumping. And, since touching the fabric of the universe is a bit tingly, Five would just chew on his hands to make the itchy feeling go away. 

Someone suggested mittens like the ones you give kids with chicken pox and I just about died so that’s 100% being added to my headcanons as well. And Five HATES those mittens with a passion and would have yelly screaming fits about them and just bash his mittened hands against the floor in outrage. Absolutely terrible.

Five could absolutely not control his powers at first. So he would just. Jump somewhere accidentally. Sometimes it was a kind of wishful thinking type thing like “hmm if i get up on the counter i can reach the cookie jar” and BAM suddenly Five is up on the counter. Other times it was more just “guess i’m gonna fall through the fabric of the universe and end up wherever lmao” and basically what I’m getting at is he gave everyone multiple heart attacks literally all the time

Sneezes. When Five sneezes he jumps by accident. Just ACHOO and a flash of blue light and he’s gone. Bye bye bitch. It’s involuntary and a nightmare when he gets sick.

Five was that little kid who LOVED to draw. Like he would just sit for hours with a crayon clenched in his chubby little baby fist drawing scribble monsters. Of course after a Certain Incident that included drawing on the walls Reginald Hargreeves banned drawing because it’s ‘childish’ or whatever. There’s a part of me that wants to say that after everything he picks up drawing again as something to occupy his hands that isn’t obsessively working and reworking equations

I’m going to go ahead and assign my own childhood bullshit to Five because why not so I headcanon that Five as a small child would DEMAND to be read to. At all hours. I’m talking literally attempting to pry the nannies eyes open and demanding that they ‘wead to [him]’ in the middle of the night. Most of the time he didn’t even actually care about being read to he just liked hearing someone talk so he was just as content just sitting with them while they chatted to someone else tbh (how did my parents not assassinate me as a kid smh)

and now i’m even sadder about him being alone in the apocalypse thanks

Would hide when he was upset. Also very good at hide and seek. Look this is a big ass house and Five can literally teleport out of a room and out from under watchful eyes I’m saying that he must have been the most stressful child in existence to watch over holy shit but yeah when upset crawls into some small space and hunkers down until he’s less upset. Start checking the cabinets you fools. Can and WILL fit into spots you think are too small for him to fit in. If there’s a larger space behind even he shouldn’t be able to squeeze in, he can jump in so don’t discount those as hiding places as well.

Cheated at tag. Cheated at tag so much. They literally have a special version of tag called ‘five tag’ designed specifically to handicap him because even when they ban using powers he still ends up being way too fucking good at tag like holy shit

okay this isn’t even much of a Five one but as little kids before Reggie decided to go on his “Vanya sucks” crusade they would team up against one another and Klaus was caught in the middle bc he was number four. Luther, Allison, and Diego would squad up (back before Luther and Diego were at each others throats I actually headcanon they were close before powers became a thing) and declare war on Five, Ben, and Vanya and then it became a game of trying to tempt Klaus onto a certain team. Klaus usually went with Five-Ben-Vanya but there were occasions that he was 100% a turncoat. Trust me I had an odd number of siblings this would have been a thing.

honestly though these nannies were dealing with seven kids under the age of four like god damn i have so much respect for them. That nursery must have been a fucking battle zone. There are no sides there is only survival. and these kids have SUPERPOWERS. Hell is empty and all the devils are looking at them with innocent eyes like the entire room isn’t completely trashed behind them. Where’s Five, kids? Where the fuck is your teleporting brother? Six put those tentacles away so help me god you will go straight into time out, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred. NUMBER ONE if you don’t put down that cabinet RIGHT NOW - 

Now i’m thinking about the first time Reginald dealt with one of the kids having a screaming meltdown in front of him. I feel like it would have gone very badly for the kid in question :(

and now for not quite a baby!Five

Extremely salty. Furious that he’s so small. Will stab you in the knees to make you get down to his level if you dare condescend to him. Probably stands on counters or tables when talking to his siblings, but has on at least one occasion hit his limit on jumps and been unable to get down without asking for help. Decides that he lives on the kitchen counter now because fuck that noise

Would rather die than be carried anywhere but if he’s the one to climb on someone then it’s okay. Prefers sitting on shoulders because a) taller, and b) they don’t have to hold him up and he can pretend that it’s entirely his decision

A sleepy bitch. Overuses his powers frequently getting to places he can’t easily reach anymore. Sleepy and grumpy. Doesn’t give two shits where he falls asleep and will sleep sprawled out across the floor, had been stepped on or had someone trip over him before and yet still refuses to stop. Honestly it’s a bit of a roulette whether he’ll wake up if they try to put him somewhere else, with just as much danger implied. Klaus produces traffic cones from god knows where and gleefully surrounds Five when he finds in which… is as good a solution as any tbh

His powers are still like,, almost on the fritz? Like when he was a little kid he couldn’t control them. He can now, but also they glitch out occasionally and his hands are all itchy again because they keep pushing at the boundary of the universe without him even thinking about it and it’s the most irritating thing in the world

His pain tolerance is back to being shit which he doesn’t appreciate. However everyone else freaks out way more than him when he accidentally slices his hand open trying to steal one of Diego’s knives, which was pretty funny

Claire comes over and immediately teams up with Five. No one saw it coming and everyone regrets it except for the tiny duo.

She asks him why he’s a kid if he’s her Uncle Five and he gives her the whole story about him growing old in the apocalypse and coming back etc. etc. and that he’s actually a grown up and he doesn’t think she’s going to understand but Claire just says “Oh, like Narnia?” and Five is like “EXACTLY LIKE NARNIA” and she is automatically his favorite

Claire literally tells Five point blank that he’s wasting his potential. How does Five not know all the tricks to being a brat and getting what you want? Puppy dog eyes first and progress into tantrums my friend. Look, Claire is Allison’s daughter and Allison was manipulative as fuck as a child and Claire has inherited at least some of that

Five’s eyes are fucking OPENED and everyone wishes they would be closed again. Five’s puppy eyes are surprisingly and devastatingly effective, especially when he tears up and lets his little lip wobble. Claire is so fucking proud of her protege

Claire rules the house with her tiny iron fist and Five readily follows her lead. Look, he never wanted to be the leader okay he was content to leave that to Luther and he’s equally happy now to leave it to Claire

The first time Patrick came to pick Claire up Five kicked him in the shins and ran off and Patrick was just very very confused about why Allison’s nephew (cover story, Klaus probably gets to pretend to be his dad again or something) has decided to hate him

Five still hides when he’s upset and now he’s tiny literally no one can find him. The first time it happens everyone freaks out and searches the entire house and after a few hours Grace just pops off and retrieves a now sleeping Five from like, the top shelf in the linen closet or something idk

On at least one occasion has had to be stopped from eating some kind of insect or spider off the floor. It’s like owning a cat or something. For the most part they hate it but one of them (Klaus) has 100% pointed out one to Five like “GET IT” but honestly this could be a headcanon for any age Five

[yhs-silly]

Hang on there buddy

Trigger warnings: suicide mentions, self harm, ghost, character death, murder mention

When they told him what happened, he was ten. A small ten year old child, his parents didn’t love him and neither did his grandparents. The only person that loved him was his aunt Jane, she was dead now- murdered. Grian cried for hours when they’d told him, his poor, dear auntie, murdered brutally. They told Grian that no one knew who killed her but in Grian’s mind there was only one person it could be; Aunt Jane’s ex husband, Gareth.

Grian began to send Gareth little letters and notes, teasing and tormenting him- he figured if Gareth was going to make his life hell then Grian could return the favour. He kept this up for years, his little gifts and letters growing more and more daring; dog poop became dead birds, worms became spiders, black glitter became needles and dirt and rocks became razorblades. Grian was becoming a bigger nightmare by the year- and he felt no remorse. That bastard was getting what he deserved after all.

By the time he was 17 he’d grown bitter and angry towards the world, most of all Gareth. He was depressed but really, who wasn’t these days. He had no real friends outside of Sam and Taurtis, but they lived in Japan, so he got quite lonely sitting up in his room all alone. He contemplated running away, like he did when he was little- but if he ran to Sam and Taurtis he’d have to face Gareth and he just couldn’t do that.

What he could do, however, was visit. He was more then happy to hop on the bus for a nice beach day with his pals, it was the weekend so he figure he couldn’t bump into Gareth. His last ‘gift’ hadn’t really been in the best taste- not that any of them were- but he thought he might have crossed the line there. He wondered if there ever was a line to begin with, but he shrugged it off, got his tan, and left.

Of course, when he arrived they filled him in on what he’d missed. He obviously expressed his sympathy for Taurtis having lost Salex, Grian never really knew Salex but he did feel the pain of losing someone close to you and have Taurtis the awkward pat on the back he deserved. Grian wasn’t one for hugging and this was the closest he could do without feeling mega uncomfortable. Then the duo started telling him that one of their teachers had killed himself, Grian nodded along to their story, unable to shake the heavy feeling in his gut that he knew who the teacher was.

Then he saw the classroom.

Peeking between the planks of wood, Grian’s heart sank. He knew this classroom, he knee that desk, and the return address on the box sitting just within view under Gareth’s desk just sealed the deal. The rope hanging there was one Grian had bought with his own money, but Grian didn’t understand why he felt that pang of guilt, sure he might have caused Gareth’s death- but it was what he deserved, right?

It was halloween when it all changed, that awful, cursed hallows eve. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun, Grian had spent forever on his costume, sure he didn’t get any money from his parents so he struggled to get the fabric for the costume but he managed it, he was quite proud in fact. Of course they teased him about it, he knew the costume wasn’t the best but he’d enjoyed making it and that was all that counted. He was just supposed to be having some fun, he never meant to come into contact with Gareth’s ghost- he didn’t even believe in ghosts. He especially didn’t want to hear those horrific words coming from the man he drove to suicide.

“Who killed my wife?”

Those words might have been jumbled and messed up but they fell clearly on Grian’s ears, he shook. He’d always thought that Gareth was the one that had killed Jane, but he was wrong, Gareth didn’t know who did it, which meant, it meant something Grian really didn’t want to face- he’d driven and innocent man to his death. Grian shook and fell to his knees, it felt like the room was spinning and he couldn’t hear a word anyone was saying, it was like they were behind glass. He didn’t feel human, he didn’t feel like he belonged in his body, this wasn’t real, there’s no way this was reality. He was just dreaming, of course he was- that was the only explanation.

He woke up in bed, he looked at the clock, it was around midnight. Still halloween but only a few seconds of it left, he’d ruined his friends halloween. Grian felt awful, he looked around; he was alone in the room but he could see around the divider into the living room. Okami was tiding up after Sam and Taurtis, Yuki and Chan were making pancakes. Grian could here what they were talking about, they weren’t very good at staying quiet.

“Yeah but he still ruined the night, you can’t deny that Chan.” Sam’s voice, saying that Grian had ruined their night. Grian couldn’t help but agree, but he’d done so much worse then that- he was so glad none of them were aware of what he’d done.

He’d stopped listening, he’d tuned them put for a few seconds to wallow in his guilt. What were they saying now? He listened in to their discussion.

“Clearly he just go spooked by Gareth’s ghost, poor kid.” Okami, sticking up for him- he really didn’t deserve it.

“Oh come on Sensei, you saw how he reacted; he wasn’t reacting to the ghost, he was reaching to the question.” Yuki, hitting the nail on the head as always- it was like she’d seen right through him.

Sam chuckled. “Wouldn’t it be funny if he was the one who killed teacher Gareth’s wife?” He caused some light chuckling, not realising what he’d said.

Grian was furious, how dare Sam say that kind of thing! To even suggest that Grian would do such a thing to his dear aunt made him well up with rage. He leaped out of bed. “DON’T YOU FUCKING SAY THAT YOU BLOODY RABBIT!! YOU’VE GOT NO BASTARD CLUE WHAT’S GOING ON!!”

They all looked at him in shock as he tripped and stumbled into the living room, his face red with rage and fresh tears welling up in his eyes. His fists were clenched, which didn’t help when he tripped over the carpet and ended up falling face first onto the floor. He choked out a sob as he buried his face in the carpet.

Sam snickered, instantly being shut up by the others. Okami bent down and placed a hand on Grian’s back. “Are you ok Grian? Do you wanna talk about it?” Grian only sobbed in response, unable to come up with a coherent response, Okami sighed and picked him up, helping him to the sofa. “Aw, come on dear, it’s all gonna be alright. It was just a silly little ghost, please just calm down. I understand it was a shock but he can’t hurt you, I promise.”

Grian nodded, drying his eyes. He shouldn’t have reacted like that, there’s no way he wants them to know what he’d done. He adjusted his posture and chuckled, it was fake but he’d learnt to perfect it so he was good enough to fool them. “Of course, of course, apologize, I’ve just been a little stressed lately, you understand?”

They all nod at him and Sam chuckles at how fast Grian’s mood switched. They had a conversation over Yuki’s pancakes, Grian twisted his words and inflection to the best of his ability, he was a surprisingly good lier and quickly had them talking about something else- no longer worried about him.

After the next few weeks, Grian couldn’t focus, his mind kept bouncing back to Gareth- poor, poor uncle Gareth. Grian felt like the worst person in the universe, he didn’t deserve to be happy, he didn’t deserve to live. That was what he was thinking when he stole Sam’s knife.

He couldn’t access a razorblade, there were none in the apartment and his money hadn’t been converted to yen yet. So he’d stolen Sam’s knife and locked himself in the bathroom. He’d tried to selfharm before, but he’d always chickened out at the last moment, unable to draw blood, to bring himself to leave a real mark. But he didn’t think he deserved the luxury of cowardice, he’d displayed that when tormenting Gareth and look what that did.

So he took the knife and pressed the blade to the inside of his forearm, he felt his breath hitch as the skin split. The blood spilled out onto his pale skin, like the spilling of red paint on a white canvas, he could laugh at his poetic thoughts- he let them travel to ignore the pain but he figured the pain was deserved. So he bit his lip and made another cut, then another, then another. He didn’t notice the clear droplets mixing with the red on the bathroom floor.

[thwippyparker]

Try To Fix You- Chapter 2

TW: Abuse

Masterlist

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 3, Chapter 4,  Chapter 5

Feel free to comment, like, or share this if you want to be added to a tag list, or you can add yourself HERE. Enjoy!!

Eventual Peter x Reader, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, ANGST

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When you woke up you were wrapped in Peter’s arms, face pressed against his bare chest. You could hear the rhythmic thumping of his heart and feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest. His hair a crown of chocolate curls and his freckles barely peeking out, letting you know he’s either been in the Spider-man suit too much or just not getting enough sun. Growing up you swore he had constellations on his face, a gift from whoever may be up there just adding to his beauty. He may be your best friend but even you had to admit to how handsome he was, especially now. “What are you doing? You literally were at the police station today putting a restraining order on your fresh ex! Now is not the time to be thinking like that.”

You laid your head back down on his chest as you continued thinking. He had grown since the last time you saw him, became more manly. He was nothing to shrug at after the whole Spider-Man transformation but now everything was more defined. You would be lying if you were to say you had never thought of trying to go the next step with him but the timing was never right and then you had the big fight. Your heart broke a little every time, even to this day, that you went past Aunt May’s because you figured he would never want to speak to you ever again. The worst thing though was when you had to cut Aunt May out because it hurt too much to have to constantly side step the huge neon elephant in the room or have her continually bring him up. She had been like a second mother to you most of your life and when you thought you had lost Peter for good you hadn’t anticipated losing Aunt May as well.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Peter’s arms flex and tighten around you. He took in a deep breath and sighed before brushing a piece of hair out of your face. You looked up at him and moved away slightly, ignoring the hurt look that crossed his face when you did. You got up to go to the bathroom and get changed, trying your hardest to avoid even gazing in the mirror, hating even the thought of how you must have looked. Your whole body hurt, but your face felt especially tender. You quickly got changed into a pair of ripped jeans and a flowy top, brushed your unruly mop of hair  and exited the bathroom to hear Peter tensely talking to someone on his phone.

“Don’t fucking call me or her ever again. She put out a restraining order for a reason and you are so lucky I don’t hunt you down right now and make you feel how she does right now. If you call either of us again, I will call the cops for violating the order. LEAVE HER ALONE! You are done hurting her for as long as I’m around. Understand?!” Peter looked over to see you and quickly hung up the phone. He crossed the room in mere seconds to you and hugged you, his mood immediately shifting.

“I am so sorry you heard any of that, I was trying to finish the call before you got out. He wouldn’t stop calling and I had 12 voicemails from him and I can’t imagine how many times he’s called you an-” you immediately began sobbing into his now clothed chest and he stopped in his tracks.

“It’s all too much, Pete. What if he hurts me again, or you? I couldn’t live with myself. I should’ve just figured this out on my own and left you out. May already probably hates me and now that I’ve gotten you into all of this if you get hurt, she’ll hunt me down. And even if she doesn’t, he will. He won’t stop, Peter. He said so himself, he’d rather see me dead than not with him.”

“Hey, I won’t let anything happen to you. Remember in 7th grade when Flash tried to kick mine and Ned’s asses and you punched him in the balls. You said, and I quote ‘No one lays a hand on my friend and gets away with it.’ It’s the same thing. Flash was much stronger than you and yet you did what was right because you cared about us.  The only difference in this situation is that I’m way stronger than him and this is the one time I think I’d ever use my Spider strength selfishly. I never want to see you look like how you did last night ever again. You know eventually we have to talk about all of this, right? Not including the basic catching up and talking about what happened the last time we saw each other?” He gently stroked your hair to calm you down as he hugged you tighter.

“I know….. Can we do that after I figure out some stuff? Like where I’m gonna live now,” you asked, trying not to get stressed out at the mere thought that right now, you were homeless.

“No need to rush, but when you feel up to it. And I was actually going to talk to you about that…..” He seemed hesitant, like he was second guessing whatever he was going to say, “You know how we always talked about getting an apartment together? How about you move in here? I have a spare room and I’ve been looking for someone to put in it since Ned moved in with Betty. You’d be doing me a favor, helping split the rent, make it not so lonely here. I could even be your bodyguard and give you some piece of mind.” 

“You would really want that? Even though we haven’t talked about,” You gesture broadly, “everything else?”

He looked offended and scoffed, “N/n, come on. Act like you know me even a little, of course I want that. If I’m being really honest with you, I’ve missed having you around. Even with all the crap going on right now and your scum bag ex, I’m just glad you’re here. I was afraid when you called that you were….”

You hugged him close because you knew what he was going to say and it made your heart sink. He thought he would end up having to attend another funeral for someone he loved. After his parents and Ben, it was a valid fear. “I’m sorry I scared you,” you said, hoping he knew how much you meant it. The last of your tears fell and you took in a shaky breath.

The two of you stood there for a while while your tears dried, he was smoothing your hair and swaying you. Eventually his stomach growled and it made you chuckle. “Why don’t we get some grub, Spider-boy,” you teased as he gasped in fake shock.

“How dare you, y/n. That might’ve flown when we were kids but I’m a man now,” he faked a bravado and tried to strut but ended up tripping on his pair of pajama pants on the floor. His face flushed bright red as he kicked the garment away from him.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at your best friend, “Maybe this whole roommate thing will work for the best.” He was rubbing the back of his head playing with his hair when you decided to quip back, “Sure ya are Spiderling, come on, I’m hungry too.” 

You both walked to his kitchen, you choosing to sit at the counter while he pulled out a pot and filled it with water. “Mac and cheese okay?” He asked pulling 2 blue boxes out of his pantry. 

“Only as long as they’re -” But he cut you off mid-sentence to finish the thought

“Shaped like something, yeah, yeah. I remember.” He stuck his tongue out at you as he changed out the original boxes for superhero shaped noodles. You couldn’t help but belly laugh at how he just had mac and cheese shaped like people he had worked with to save the universe on several occasions. “What are you laughing at,” he asked, “sometimes I babysit the kid at the end of the hall. I bought these for him.” His blush gave it away though. The nerdy, childish Peter was still very much alive and well. Even if he did have his own place.

“Sure you did, Pete. Tell yourself whatever to try and make yourself seem more mature. WE both know that isn’t for ‘the kid at the end of the hall’ ,” you said using air quotes to further cement your disbelief. You dropped your head down to look at your nails, anxiously picking at them. “But it doesn’t matter one way or another. I’m glad you have it, normal mac and cheese sucks.” You looked up at him through your eyelashes to see if he was looking. When your eyes connected, you looked back down at your hands. “So… how’s Aunt May?” 

“She’s doing alright. She asked about you recently, thought she mighta seen you passing her building but she wasn’t sure because of the hairdo and the clothes. She said the girl she saw looked more like a boy or someone androgynous with the get up and all. I was meaning to ask, why’d you cut your hair?” You always liked your hair long, especially after a particularly traumatic hair cut in middle school when you thought you would get a pixie cut. Since then you’d only ever trimmed it and had hair that fell down to your waist throughout much of high school and college. 

“After Harry,” saying his name burned your tongue like sulfuric acid, “used my long hair to pull me back and slam me down on the ground, I decided on a hair style to make that harder. I decided on a modified “fuckboy” haircut because it gave him a very small patch to be able to grab onto and I kept it short to make it harder with his big hands. He had hated it and it caused another fight but he stopped trying to pull my hair, so I guess it was worth it. And regarding the clothes, he didn’t like me wearing anything that you could see my curves in,” you stated with a shrug.

Peter was tense and went to add the noodles to the boiling pot of water. He gripped the granite counter top tightly and you could see he was holding back in how his back and shoulder muscles tensed and tightened under his t-shirt. He stirred the noodles and then rubbed the back of his neck. You were getting really nervous. You knew Peter would never hurt you but this was bringing back really bad memories. You knew he would be upset at the revelation, but that he wouldn’t even look at you… “He must be ashamed to be my friend… to be friends with someone so weak... so pathetic… it’s gotta kill him”

“Pete? Are you okay? You’re scaring me a bit.” He didn’t answer and instead went to get a glass of water, you could see that his jaw was clenched as you saw a side view of his face. But he was refusing to look at you. A million thoughts started flying through your brain as your mouth betrayed you and let out the smallest noise. “Petey, please…..”

He took in a deep breath and turned to face you, tears welling in his eyes. “Y/n, why didn’t you call me sooner? Why didn’t you leave sooner? Why didn’t you talk to anyone? Did you honestly think that even if I hated you I would want you to live in that hell? Especially after what I told you before the big blowup? Y/n, I told you I loved you. Love love, not just as a friend or a sister. And you told me you couldn’t be with me. I didn’t cut you out then, I still wanted you in my life. And that hurt like hell. But, if I wanted you in my life then, what made you think I wouldn’t come and save you the minute he laid a finger on you?” The timer went off so he went to take care of noodles and finish cooking the meal, not giving you time to respond. When he was done he dropped a bowl on  the counter in front of you. “I’m gonna go to my room, I’ll be there when you want to talk.” He began to walk away but you grabbed his arm and motioned for him to sit at the counter with you.

“He threatened you, the Spider-man you. I swear I didn’t tell him, but he threatened to reveal you and hurt May and Ned… He also constantly told me no one would ever love me but him, that I’m so terrible that that’s why my dad left my mom right before I was born, and that if I ever left, he would kill me and then everyone I cared about. After a while, I believed it all. And then he knocked up someone 7 years younger than us. She literally turned 18 three months ago and she’s pregnant with his child. And this attack was the most vicious because I decided to call his bluff. I know you would’ve saved me but in those moments of weakness, I felt completely alone Peter. I couldn’t tell anyone out of fear of him hurting you guys. I never meant for this to happen. I’m sorry I’m so weak,” you began to cry for what felt like the hundredth time in 24 hours as he stared in horror. He didn’t have time to respond before there was a pounding at the door. 

“Y/N, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE! YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD HIDE WITH PARKER AND I WOULDN’T FIND YOU?! YOU'RE DUMBER THAN I THOUGHT” You could hear Harry’s screams through the door and your blood ran cold. You felt glued to your seat as fear spread throughout your entire body. Peter’s body immediately went tense as he went to go to the door. It wasn’t until Peter got to the door that the shock faded slightly and panic set in. “What if Peter gets hurt, or he has May or Ned with him?!”  

Peter made sure the chain lock was secured on his door before  walking close to you and whispering. “Hide in the bathroom, lock the door, call 911 and I’ll stall him until they arrive. Go!” he handed me his cell phone and pushed me towards the bathroom. I dialed 911 as I entered the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind me.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Yes, I’m at 410 Chelsea Apartment 4B, I have a protective order against my ex and he is here. I’m scared he’s going to hurt me or my friend. Please hurry.”

“Ma’am, I have sent an officer your location, please stay on the phone until the police arrive. Where are you in the apartment? And you said your friend is there? Where are they?”

“I’m locked in the bathroom, my friend is in the living room trying to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.” I heard what sounded like a crash followed by Harry yelling for me and Peter yelling at Harry to leave. “I think he just broke into the apartment. Please, please hurry.”

“Ma’am, a police officer will be on scene in about a minute. Can you give a description of you ex so that I can relay it to the officers?”

“His name is Harry Osborn, he is a little over 6 feet tall, about 200 lbs, sandy brown hair, brown eyes.” You were beginning to panic again as you heard the yelling get closer to you and what sounded like an elephant parade which you assume meant the two were fighting,

“Thank you Ma’am, an officer is on scene now and should be at the apartment in a moment.”

All of a sudden you heard a third voice instructing them to break it up, reaffirming what you had guessed and now you really didn’t want to go out there. If Peter got hurt at all, you’d never be able to face him again. “I brought all of this and put it onto him. He’ll  hate me, and I’ll have no one and nowhere to go.” You heard a knock at the door, followed by a deep voice.

“Ma’am, it’s Detective Stacy of the NYPD, are you hurt? Can you come out of there?” You gripped the phone with white knuckles as you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. You were greeted by the soft face of a man who looked to be in his late 50’s. He was wearing a suit and had his badge displayed on his belt. Immediately, some of the tension you had been holding was released and you hung up the phone. The officer led you out into the living room where you saw both Peter and Harry in handcuffs, they were at separate corners of the room and luckily Peter was closer. You rushed to Peter, looking him over to assess any damage Harry had caused him. Luckily, all you could see was the formation of a black eye. Officer Stacy released Peter from his cuffs, explaining that it was more to keep the two from fighting again. Peter rubbed at his wrists and nodded in understanding. As soon as you went to hug Peter, Harry started to verbally attack you.

“You really thought you could get away from me, you dumb bitch? That I would just let you go without so much as a word?! And of all places and people, you really thought I wouldn’t think you’d run to him first? I bet you’ve been fucking him the entire time, huh? I always knew you two were more than “just friends”. Playing the victim card to get him into bed with you. After all, you were lucky I would even touch you half the time. I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Officer Stacy prodded. “Harry Osborn, you’re under arrest for Assault, Breaking and Entering, and Violating a Protective Order.” He then read Harry his rights and brought him downstairs to his partner. “I’ll be back up in a moment to collect your statements, alright?” He called behind him. 

With Harry finally out of the room, you began to think clearly again and your first thought was to really assess the damage to the apartment and Peter. Peter’s shirt collar was stretched and he had a black eye. You could also see him rubbing his side and when he walked to the kitchen for a glass of water you noticed a slight limp. You wondered how Harry looked as you hadn’t spared him more than a glance, refusing to look at him or even let him see your face as he degraded you in front of Peter and the officer. You then turned your attention to the apartment, the door frame shattered and an obvious dent was in the door from where Harry must have run at it to get in. A small chunk of drywall hung to the chain lock still attached to the door. Peter’s coffee table was just a pile of lumber and broken glass. Comic books were strewn everywhere and you could see Peter’s camera and laptop in the rubble. You picked up the expensive camera that you and May had pooled your money together for Peter’s 18th birthday and saw that the lense was shattered. You sat on the couch, clutching it in your chest as you looked to Peter. “Pete, I’m so-”

“Don’t finish that sentence y/n y/l/n, none of this is on you. You hear me? This was that psycho’s fault and I’m not gonna have you try to place blame on anyone other than him.” He walked over to you quickly and took the camera out of your hands, setting it behind him as he pulled you into a hug. “All of this stuff is just that. Stuff. I’d rather have everything I’ve ever owned be broken by him, have every bone in my body broken, than let him hurt you again. You’re safe and that’s all that matters.”

Detective Stacy knocked on the open door before walking in. “Alright folks, I need to get your statements and then I assume you haven't gotten to pack any of your things seeing as you filed the order early this morning correct?" You nodded. "Well then I’m going to take you to go pack up your things. We’ll keep him in custody until his hearing, due to the fact that he voided his bond from this morning when he came here and assaulted Mr. Parker. But the sooner you get your stuff out, the better. I can’t guarantee how long he’ll be in custody though due to him being an Osbourn. So who wants to go first?”

Peter looked at you and then Det. Stacy, not giving you time to answer. “I’ll go first, y/n why don’t you go eat? Do me a favor and text May and Ned from my phone asking them for moving boxes and to meet us here, please. We can go to the bedroom for privacy, Detective.” He led the detective to his room while you got to contacting everyone.

“This day just got a hell of a lot longer.”

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Masterlist

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5

[briangroth27]

Spider-Man: Far From Home Review

This is my 200th original blog! I’m happy to make it about one of my favorite fictional characters and I’m glad to report that Spider-man: Far From Home is an absolute blast! I loved it and can’t wait to see more of Peter (Tom Holland) and his corner of the MCU. They did a great job of retaining the well-developed interpersonal relationships of Homecoming while upping the stakes and taking Peter and his classmates on a tour of Europe.

Full Spoilers…

Peter’s journey from street-level Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man to full-blown international superhero Avenger takes a solid step here, with Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) drafting him into a battle with Elemental beings from a parallel universe. At first I thought it was kinda lame of Fury to be so all-in on high school junior Peter Parker suiting up instead of helping Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhaal) fight the Elementals himself—I’ve always thought the MCU’s reliance on SHIELD to bring heroes together rather than the heroes teaming up by themselves made them less altruistic in a way, plus why do we need Fury if he’s just going to sit on the sidelines and point heroes at obvious threats?—but then I realized they were playing Fury as the parent or invested teacher in a high school movie. So, forcing Peter to help in the battle with the Elementals was their take on that kind of character encouraging a kid to step up and make the most out of their potential. He even goes so far as to ruin Peter’s vacation to get him to take his “job” seriously, and looking at him that way—with the Spider-films functioning as superhero movies by way of John Hughes—his role works really well (much like Tony Stark’s role as a parent who could say no to Spider-man in Homecoming). I also liked that Fury did agree to help Peter keep his identity a secret to an extent—that was reasonable of him—and "Night Monkey" was a fun gag (I wonder if he’ll don that simian alter ego again, given how this movie ends).

I liked that Peter’s anxiety over telling MJ (Zendaya) how he felt affected his Spider-sense—it seemed like a realistic parallel to being so stressed out that you literally worry yourself sick—and this worked much better than Spider-man 2’s Peter losing his powers just because he didn’t want to be Spider-man anymore. Making his “Peter Tingle’s” (lol!) function related to his stress and emotions also leaves the door open for his Spider-Sense to fail again, which is a nice dramatic bomb waiting to go off. Another dramatic bomb I’d like them to detonate is letting Peter realize that Tony wasn’t all great and did screw a lot of people over. Both Mysterio and Vulture made valid points about Tony and it wouldn't be a betrayal of Peter's Stark-adoration to recognize that he was a flawed person; it'd be the responsible, grown-up thing to do. Much like in Homecoming, I do worry that the MCU is playing Peter as Tony Stark's successor and heir apparent too much without fully exploring what we know to be the truth about Tony. I don’t want Peter to be the next Iron Man—he should be the first self-made Peter Parker instead—but it was a nice moment to see him take the steps of designing his new suit (even if I was hoping it’d be the classic one). Karen was fun and useful as someone for Peter to talk to in the last film, but I didn’t miss her in his new suit since he had Happy (Jon Favreau), Ned (Jacob Batalon), and MJ. I liked that Peter got to put his science skills to use and design his own web attacks instead of Stark gifting everything to him, though I’ll concede that the "moment" of Peter picking up the holo-designers did have a significant impact. Still, I loved him walking away from the Avengers in Homecoming (though I wish he hadn't gotten the Stark suit back) and I hope he eventually walks away from Stark Industries too instead of inheriting it or something. I want him at Horizon Labs and/or creating Parker Industries as a startup, inventing tech that helps the little guy instead of creating global defense networks. Speaking of, EDITH (Dawn Michelle King) was a fun addition to the film and Peter's mistakes with it felt appropriately teenager-esque (in a heightened superhero way, of course). I liked that it was way too much for him to handle and that he tried to get rid of it. I wish he’d destroyed it in the end, though my initial impression was that it’s essentially neutered now since all the drones are down and, given his reaction to seeing into everyone else’s phones, we can trust that he won’t use it that way again.

On the whole, the Spider-man films are the most enjoyable in the MCU (I also love that so much of their screentime is about Peter’s non-superhero life; we don’t get to see that from many other MCU heroes), but ignoring major dramatic moments keeps them from topping the Cap films as the MCU’s best. My biggest disappointment here is that we didn't—and apparently won't—see the fallout from May (Marisa Tomei) finding out that Peter is Spidey. I would’ve thought she’d be concerned about how being a superhero will affect his future (not to mention his safety), though I guess not since she fully encourages him to take his suit to Europe (also playing into that "embrace your potential" parental space Fury operates in). Was there a period where she worried about him before they came to this "everything is fine!" place? Did they compromise on ground rules for his superheroics vs. getting his homework done? The fallout from that reveal was a necessary piece of their arcs and it’s a mistake to skip it. I wish we hadn't had to detour into Infinity War after Homecoming (or that May walking in on him in the suit had also been Peter’s introductory scene in IW) and that we could've seen more of Peter and May's paths to get to this point.

Regardless, I liked seeing a new role for May now that she's in the know. It would've been nice to use that role to help give Peter advice or something, but it’s OK that that mainly manifested in her pushing him towards being a hero (and giving him an alibi to ditch the trip). Peter asking her for pointers on how to tell MJ he liked her would've been a solid route to take too (like when she helped him get ready for the dance in Homecoming), and it could’ve been a chance to bring up Uncle Ben and how he first told May about his feelings. I love that life for Peter and May hasn't ended with Ben’s death, but it would be nice to directly reference him. Continuing to mourn him would've been too much with Peter also mourning Stark's death (and it would've made Happy and May's flirtation awkward), but both Peter and May have clearly moved on so it would be OK to reference him without always being a downer. Ben’s initials on Peter’s briefcase were a nice subtle touch, but my friend pointed out that the suitcase getting blown up should’ve had more meaning to May and Peter instead of getting played off as joke (“Where’s your luggage? Oh right; it got blown up!”). Even a moment to say that physical things don’t matter when they can remember Ben and live as he did would’ve been enough. Speaking of Happy and May, I thought they were cute and I like where it's going (it if does go anywhere). At one point I thought not Snapping May would’ve been a way to bring the classic May into the MCU, but I wouldn’t have liked putting her through five years of hell with Peter having vanished. I like this May much better than the classic one who might have a heart attack just by finding out that Peter is Spider-man, and taking him away for that long probably would’ve led to that version so I’m glad they didn’t. I liked May helping the homeless shelter rather than sitting at home worrying about Peter being Spider-man: it’s nice to see her being a hero in her own right. I wonder if that job will bring us Mr. Negative sometime down the line; he could make things even worse for Spidey's rep.

Speaking of, this was an excellent rendition of Mysterio! I can't believe I didn't realize how perfect a villain he is for an era full of Fake News, where our leaders lie to us so casually and very few citizens bother to fact-check what they say. I hope he’s not dead and I don’t believe it. Faking that death would be a hard needle to thread with people clearly believing that he died a hero—so there must be a body, right?—but I’m sure there are ways around that. If he really is gone, what a way to go out! I definitely didn't expect him to announce Peter's secret to the world, but I'm glad they did: that’ll open up a lot of story potential and we’ve seen Peter do the secret identity thing in seven movies now; we can do one where he fights to put the genie back in the bottle and has to deal with the fallout. Gyllenhaal was very good in the role—the perfect mix of heroism, menace, and self-important ridiculousness—and while I knew he was a villain, he had me wishing that he wouldn't follow his comic book roots. I liked that he was the adult who let Peter slack and indulge in what he wanted rather than what was (arguably) best for his future (and certainly best for the world), and their chemistry allowed for a quick development of their brotherly bond. I liked the idea I saw online a while back about Quentin Beck having been a special effects guy on the "really old movies" Peter is always referencing who lost his job because of CGI, but his backstory here was so much better and it was very cool how they tied him and his cronies into the history of the MCU. I'm also so happy we got a comics-accurate costume for him! They really drove home the point that it would be impossible to fight Mysterio if you didn't have Spider-Sense and the sequence showcasing that was fantastic. Yes, that CGI was noticeably CGI, but given how he creates his illusions and the fact that it's a filter over real-world dangers, I thought it totally worked. The point wasn’t to create a photo-realistic illusion at that moment anyway, as there were several images that didn’t make logical sense in the “real world:” Beck was trying to scare and disorient Peter, getting him to hurt himself on real-world dangers, and the kid fell for it. I've never seen that threat level from this character before and that was a standout sequence of the entire MCU. I'm sorry that it looks like Sandman, Hydro-Man, Molten Man, and Cyclone are just illusions in this universe, but the Buzzfeed theory the gang finds means they could still be out there. Maybe Mysterio based the Elementals on them in the first place!

I'm of two minds about Nick Fury in this film. On one hand, I like the role he played in Peter's life here. On the other, the post-credits reveal that he was actually Talos (Ben Mendelsohn) acting as Fury while the real Nick was on vacation undercut the genuinely interesting character development Fury got. I really liked that he went from knowing everything about the world to knowing nothing. It's also more impressive if Mysterio dupes the real Fury instead of a stand-in. If Talos was sending Fury regular reports, then both those things are still at least halfway true, but it's not as effective or clean IMO. I’m glad to know Fury is a human who needs a vacation sometimes—the always alert, always prepared, always badass character the early MCU films painted him as would get boring and one-dimensional—but with these character developments maybe this wasn’t the best time to play the Skrull card. I hope the Skrull reveal is a one-time gag about Fury taking some time off (which does explain his insistence that Peter jump into the battle instead of doing it himself) and not a prelude to Secret Invasion. There just isn't time in these movies to sacrifice a whole film's worth of character development for a Skrull reveal. Secret Invasion would totally work in an MCU show, but the films aren’t like the comics where we have decades of time spent with the real characters plus a significant amount spent with their replacements; if they decide a character was a Skrull for an entire movie, that’s like a ninth of their total MCU screentime and development (if not more) erased.

I was happy that we got to spend a lot more time with MJ in this film. She's awesome, Zendaya plays her perfectly, and I really like this direction for her character! Her interest in the morbid history of everything is very endearing and I also like her obsession with telling the truth. At first I thought that might be a fun and interesting challenge for her once she found out about Peter (a twist the trailers shouldn't have revealed...classic Sony!), but now I'm thinking it could drive her towards journalism like in the Ultimate Comics universe. I would love to see her, Peter, and Ned team up to prove Peter's innocence and tell the world what really happened (while covering up Pete’s ID, which would bring that challenge aspect back to her). I liked that she played an integral role in discovering the truth about Mysterio and that she figured out Peter was Spider-man on her own; now I'd like to see that applied to her future. Her burgeoning relationship with Peter was sweet and felt well-developed given how long they’ve known each other; they are very cute together and their first kiss felt very teen-realistic. I can't wait to see how they work as a couple! With Midtown’s mascot being a tiger, I wonder if we'll get the "Face it, Tiger..." moment at some point.

Ned and MJ's low-key competition about knowing Peter's secret was fun too. I'm glad Ned has grown out of wanting to tell everyone Peter's secret (though that did create some fun drama and obstacles we wouldn't have gotten from the more responsible Peter by himself). I really like his friendship with Peter (and Batalon’s rendition of Ned) and even though he didn't get to be the Man in the Chair this time around, they could easily bring that back next time to help clear Pete's name. Ned and Betty's (Angourie Rice) trip-long summer romance was a funny subplot and a nice nod to their comic book marriage. I'm glad Betty got more screentime here, even if it's still weird to me that she's so visually patterned after Gwen Stacy (if they are saving Gwen for Spider-Gwen, I'm all for it!). I loved that the school news reports Betty and Jason (Jorge Lendeborg Jr.) anchor are still so hilariously (and realistically) bad! They were the perfect vehicle to recap The Blip and I really liked how it was handled. This film isn't the place to look at the massive problems such seismic shifts in the global population would cause, but I firmly believe the MCU needs to address them somewhere (Agents of SHIELD and the other shows would be my choice). They could get literal years of great drama exploring the fallout of both snaps, the global upheaval, the extremes surviving heroes went to, surprising heroic turns from villains that were left behind, etc. and while I'm glad they didn't just erase Thanos' Snap, it's a massive missed opportunity not to mine the fallout for all it's worth somewhere. Global changes like this should be felt in everything going forward, even if they're not the main focus. Still, the kids’ frustration that they had to take their midterms over again and the weirdness over some kids having aged five years while the rest of them didn’t worked perfectly for the corner of the MCU this movie was playing in. Those felt like realistic teen complaints and they’re all I needed from this film in terms of the Blip.

Flash (Tony Revolori) was funny and I liked the surprise beat at the end about his parents not arriving at the airport to welcome him back. His adoration of Spider-man and jerkiness to Peter is still a fun combination too, though I would like to see Peter ruminate on that dichotomy a little more. Give Peter a moment where he feels like he’s getting one over on Flash because his bully idolizes his alter ego or something, then pull the rug out from under him with Flash being Flash (they almost have this moment here, but it’s more about establishing Flash’s Spider-fandom than Peter really considering/laughing at it). Still, I can't wait to see how he reacts to the knowledge that Peter is Spider-man! The teachers (J.B. Smoove, Martin Star) were great again too! Peter has one of the best supporting casts in the MCU and this film was no different. Mr. Harrison's tragic and over-shared love life was great fun, as was science teacher Mr. Dell being convinced the Elementals were the work of witches. Even though they do care about the students, the teachers being so inept goes a long way towards justifying how easy it is for Peter to slip away to do his hero thing. It’s also very funny; I wouldn’t change a thing! I liked that they made a point of joking that there had been very little science on this science club trip, but as excuses to get them to Europe go, it didn't bother me at all that they never got to study science.

I was delighted to see JK Simmons return as J. Jonah Jameson! That was a great bit and the evolution of the character into a Fox News-styled conspiracy theorist pundit who peddles lies is a perfect direction to take the character. I can't wait to see where he goes next! It would make total sense for him to hire the Scorpion (who already wants revenge on Spidey) or Kraven to take down the "menace" of Spider-man (perhaps as a dry run for the Sinister Six) in this context. I'm also wondering if we'll finally hear "With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility" as a rebuke to JJ from Peter: with such a large platform that commands power and implies trustworthiness, Jonah (and the press in general) has a responsibility to tell the truth, especially in an age where people will believe anything. As bad as our leaders are, the press enabling them by publishing conspiracy theories and not calling lies out as lies is an equally enormous problem and that would be an excellent “villain” to tackle in the next Spider-man. I wonder if they’ll let Peter re-establish his secret ID, or if he’ll end up accepting his pubic status as a way of showing he’s different from the liar leading the Daily Bugle.

The world of this film was great and I'm eager to see more of Peter's corner of the MCU. I liked that they continued to emphasize the diversity of the real world through Peter’s classmates; we definitely need more of that (in addition to getting more diverse characters as leads). I thoroughly enjoyed the acting from everyone in the cast. The pacing was perfect and they balanced the romantic drama, decisions about Peter's future, action, comedy, and stakes very well! There was a cool variety of fight scenes and I really liked Peter working to secure buildings and civilians while Mysterio took on the Elementals. The CGI was great and well-used. Michael Giacchino’s score was excellent once again! I really like his orchestral version of the 60s Spider-man cartoon theme (and hope we get a similar rendition of the 90s X-men theme for their reboot), as well as the other themes Giacchino developed for this series. The pop culture songs they used are great, but they shouldn't shy away from songs today's kids like as well. As a kid in the 90s, I listened to songs from the 60s on an oldies station along with current music so it doesn't bother me that Peter's music also spans decades, but there should be a more even mix of the two. I’ve seen comments online about how using modern music would date the film, but a major reason the 80s classics are “timeless” is because the people who grew up with them now use them in their films. Peter and his tastes shouldn’t be limited to what a 30-40 year old thinks is cool; they should be what the current teens think are cool.

I wonder how Peter being unmasked will affect Vulture for keeping his ID a secret, to say nothing of how it's going to wreck his personal life. This should be a seismic shift in his status quo and I hope they don't skip over it again like with May finding out. Maybe Black Cat could help Peter navigate the “criminal” lifestyle and make things even more complicated for him when he’s seen hanging out with an actual thief. Maybe Peter will get snarkier because of all this (since these movies are already so funny I didn’t notice his lack of quips until I saw author Gail Simone mention it on Twitter, but this turn of events could be a way to sharpen his comedy a bit). How will it affect May? Regardless of my (ultimately small) misgivings with certain aspects of this Peter’s development, Tom Holland is excellent in the role and they're telling their story very well, so I’m happy and excited to see as many adventures as he’s willing to suit up for! Who knows; maybe they can make Miles Morales the self-made, homemade Spidey instead of Pete. If he were Peter's contemporary instead of his multiverse counterpart here—do their team-up like a buddy cop movie with them as competing teenage Spider-men—they could make a statement out of Peter getting handed the keys to Tony’s kingdom while Miles has to resort to homemade methods, which would be pretty cool and socially relevant.

Whatever the future of the MCU has in store for Peter, I can't wait to see it! Far From Home is an absolute blast that's neck-and-neck with Homecoming for best live-action Spider-man film (Into the Spider-verse is still the best Spider- (and superhero) film overall) and you should definitely see this while it's in theaters!

 Check out more of my reviews, opinions, and original short stories here!

[nicole-lynne]

Tense Muscles and Flying

This idea was inspired by the lovely @stuckonspidey. I loved her story so much and had this idea rattling around in my head. I hope I did your world even a little bit of justice. 

Hope you all love it! Like, comment, and reblog! 

The first time she had ever felt him, she was seventeen. All the other kids in her school had starting making connections as soon as they had hit their teens, but she hadn’t. But she had decided she was a late bloomer. She wasn’t stressed out about it because she knew it would happen when the universe deemed it necessary.  

Y/N had been walking home from school, the tall New York buildings created a boundary around her that made her feel so safe. In her mind, the city is where she belonged. The seas of people that traveled there made her feel like she could be anyone and anything she damn well pleased.

It had been so warm and sunny that day, Y/N figured what could be the harm in letting her legs stretch a bit. She was bopping along to the music coming from her headphones and all at once, she felt like the air had been swept out of her lungs. Her eyes widened in shock and she dropped her heavy book bag to the ground with a thud. Y/N pushed her back flush against a brick wall and slid to the ground, reaching for something to steady her. Her heart was beating like crazy and her arms were shaking as all the blood rushed to her muscles. She was surprised but she knew immediately that this was being caused by him.

As people passed her on the street, they stared as if she had grown a second head. Y/N shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, and forced herself into a standing position. With her knees shaking, screaming to give out, she pushed forward with each step. Tears flooded to her eyes but she wiped them away quickly, refusing to let this get to her. The fact that she was no longer in control of her own body would not be a reason for her to cry. Y/N kept her thoughts focused on her home and her bed, and before she knew it, she was collapsing into her soft comforter. For the rest of the night, she was confined to her bed. Her muscles were tensing and releasing for hours and she just let it happen. He was the overpowering ocean and she had to learn to push and pull with him, rather than letting him drown her.

---

After five years, Y/N still had not met the man who consumed one half of her body and mind. Unlike every other person in the world, she was completely calm about this fact. Of course, she was curious about the person on the other end of every adrenaline rush or panic attack. Sometimes he would be riddled with fear, a fear that could incapacitate her. A fear mixed with guilt that would paralyze her for hours.

Y/N longed to calm that part of his, so soon after their connection had started, she had begun to take hot relaxing baths with stress-relieving salts in hopes to rest his stirring mind. She would meditate every morning and night, sending him positive thoughts to help him through the days. The two of them worked as a team, and for now, that would have to be good enough for her. But still, she wondered where he was and what he was doing. Was he looking for her?

As much as she wanted to know, Y/N had never been the type of to stress about things beyond her control. Overall, she was a pretty confident person; secure in herself and her abilities. In her world, that wasn’t very common. A world that relied on feeling your other half - your soulmate.  A world that let you feel every emotional and physical thing that your soulmate was going through, 24/7. It could really take a toll on a person the longer they stayed unconnected. Every person was focused on finding the love of their life.

Y/N had never wanted that to be her only will to live. So rather than obsessing on finding her adrenaline junkie soulmate, she finished college and had gotten a good job at a small publishing house. It was a perfect distance from her beautiful New York apartment and she could spend hours reading; on the hunt for the next best-seller.

---

It was the middle of summer and the sun was hanging high in the sky today, Y/N bounced outside of the publishing house. She was ready to get changed into her workout gear and head to the little gym near her home. As she turned to head for the subway, the sun called out to her, begging her to stay out and play. Y/N stopped and stared up at the sky, letting the heat sink into her soul. That was all she needed to decide she would walk home, opting to stretch her sore legs.

She hummed along, gazing into all the little shops, making mental notes of things she would like to buy sometime in the future. Y/N was wishing now she had worn the flower skirt that was hanging in her closet. Her legs were definitely in need of some sunshine. Y/N moved to pull the earbuds out of her pocket when a large hand gripped her upper arm and yanked her into a shaded alley.

A loud squeal left her mouth in surprise but a dirty hand clamped over her lips, effectively shutting her up. Then, a gun was cocked and pointed at her head. The color drained out of her face and she felt her body shrinking back in absolute terror.

“Give me your bag now, bitch!” A masked face screamed at her, anger radiating out of the eyes.

Y/N swallowed down her fear, stood up a little taller and pulled her shoulders bag. Her heart was racing and she had to ignore her basic instinct to swing on this dirtbag. She knew it wouldn’t help anything to get into a physical altercation. This was the time to be calm and collected. “Just take the bag and be on your way. No one needs to get hurt, sir.” With that, she held out her leather bag.

Just as the mugger’s fingertips grabbed for the bag, something swung into the alley and kicked the man back into the wall. Y/N blinked a few times in surprise, recognizing her rescuer as Spider-man. She had followed his crime-fighting career over the years.

“Now that’s not very nice, is it? How about you get a job instead of harassing nice girls.” He shot a web and stuck the mugger against the side of the building. “Maybe the cops will help you get your life straightened out.”  Y/N had to hold back a giggle that was bubbling in her chest.

He heard her laugh and turned to look at Y/N. She could immediately feel the pull of him, his soul. Her mouth gaped open in realization that this was him, her other half. Her soulmate was the Spider-man.

Determination flowed through his body and he walked towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist.The second his hands touched her body, her own emotions came to the forefront of her mind. It was as if he had been expelled from her and she was on her own again. She furrowed her brows and studied his masked face for any sign that he knew her too.

“Hold on tight, beautiful.” A web shot of his hands and they flew into the air, out of the alley.

The breath was knocked out of her almost immediately. A wild laugh fell from her lips, his head whipped over to look at her. “I’ve been dying to know what this feeling was for years!” Then, they started laughing together at the thought.

Y/N tilted her head back and let the wind blow through her hair. She wanted to fling her arm out but her body wouldn’t let her move her hands off of his chest. It was as if he was a magnet, holding all her pieces together. Her world became a little more clear with him in it.

Spider-Man dropped them onto a roof a building but they stayed in each other’s arms, the universe fading around them. Their breath was ragged with excitement, the adrenaline flowing through their veins like water. Cautiously, Y/N reached her hand up to the bottom of his mask and began to lift it.

At that same moment, Spider-man backed away from her and his feelings slammed into her like a freight train. All she could feel was fear and anxiety taking over her feelings of passion and elation.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. You can’t know who I am.” Her heart dropped at his statement and she longed to reach out and touch him but he stayed out of her arms reach.

“Wha-what do you mean?” Y/N stammered out. “You-you’re him, though. I-I’m me. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

His head hung and she could feel the shame radiating through him. “It’s just too dangerous for you to know who I am.”

Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh and he looked over at her in awe. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, Spider-man... If I knew your full name, I would use it right then and there, mister. I could get hurt everyday just doing normal stuff. .” She put her hands on her hips and stared at him with adamant look fixed on her face. “Besides, I could have taken that mugger if you hadn’t shown up.”

Spider-man burst out laughing at that, “Okay, I would have loved to see that! I can’t believe you were acting so calm. I could feel your heart beating like a thousand beats a second.” Y/N’s face flushed at that.

Y/N dropped her hands down to her sides. “Look, I’ve been waiting for five years to find you and I’m not going to let something as...small...as you being Spider-man keep me from being with you. You shouldn’t let that fear keep you from getting to know me. Besides, I’m pretty cool.” She shrugged casually and he let out a soft laugh.

“Okay... Let’s try again.” He said quietly.

Y/N brought her hands up to his mask again, moving agonizingly slow so she didn’t spook him. His breath hitched as her thumb ran against his cheek, her touch filling a space in his heart he didn’t know existed.

In a single breath, the mask was gone and Y/N was met with the most gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. Her heart skipped as she took in the man that stood before her. His dark brown curls were like a unruly mop on his head and just one look pulled at her heartstrings. Her heart pounded as she admired the way his suit fit him. He looked at her with uneasiness, unsure of what was supposed to happen next.

He held his hand out to her, “My name is Peter. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Y/N laughed again and pulled Peter into a hug. “I’m Y/N, and I’m so glad we are finally meeting.” He pulled her against his chest tightly, the feeling that he could conquer the world with her at his side. They fit like two pieces of a puzzle - perfect.

---

Peter and Y/N had spent the rest of the evening on that roof, talking about everything that crossed their minds. He had explained about his life, his job with Tony Stark, and all of the different things he had fought.

Her heart panged at the thought that she could have lost him to some unknown creature before she even knew him. Peter immediately felt her sadness wash over him and quickly placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. Y/N looked up at Peter in amazement. This boy was hers.

“Ya know, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me over the years.” Y/N looked at him with a puzzled expression. “With all the hot baths and all of that. It really helped my anxiety. More than you’ll ever know.”

He wrapped an arm around her and rubbed his hands up and down her arm. She looked up into his eyes, the sun hitting them and creating deep pools of honey.

“I’d do anything for you, Peter. I’m glad that I finally get to know you.” She buried her head into his neck and tried to rest her beating heart.

They sat there, holding onto one another, neither one of them wanting to give this up. The warm, evening air putting them in a place of comfort until the only left to do was to move. The sun sank past the rooftops and Y/N stood up shakily. “Well, I best get home. The whole afternoon has passed in the blink of eye.”

Peter jumped up with realization and he wiped his palms on his thighs. “Oh, oh rig-right. I would, um, walk you home but...” He gestured to the Spider-man suit. She chuckled softly and nodded.

“I don’t blame you. We might get some pretty funny looks if I was walking around hand-in-hand with the neighborhood crime fighter.” Y/N nudged his shoulder and he let out a laugh.

Peter walked her to the rooftop entrance and stood there, he could barely take his eyes off the beautiful girl standing in front of him. Y/N turned to look at him, brought herself up on her tiptoes, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Peter’s eyebrows shot up and a huge grin spread across his face.

“I’ll catch you around, Spidey.” Y/N whirled around and disappeared into the darkness that was the staircase. Leaving Peter to his own racing emotions, shooting webs across the city.

As she got ready for bed, her heart was soaring and she knew Peter’s was too. The whole day had been a big mess but she wouldn’t change it for anything. She had finally connected with her other half and now she knew why her friends pushed her so hard to find him sooner.

She finished up her bathroom routine and opened up the door, dragging her exhausted body to the bed. But she stopped in her tracks. Sitting at the top of her bed was a little brown teddy bear in a Spider-man outfit. A wide grin grew across Y/N’s face and she walked over to pick up the note attached to him.

For the times I’m not around. So glad I get to know you, too.                x Peter