superextrafamily - Tumblr blog

[superextrafamily]

Welcome to the Superfamily Fanwork Exchange Event!

The Superfamily Gift Exchange is an event created just for fans of the relationship between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, and their relationship with their children, especially Peter Parker. Like any other gift exchange you’ve seen, participants who have signed up for this event will be asked to anonymously create a work for another participant, and you will receive one as well. All works will be kept anonymous until the creator reveals.

Sign-ups open on the first of April, and will remain open until the fifteenth of April, after which you have more than two months' time to create the perfect gift for your giftee. You can sign up for the exchange here.

Rules | FAQ For any questions or concerns, you can contact the mods on Tumblr or on our Discord server. Feel free to join the Discord even if you're not participating, if you're on the fence about signing up, or if you're just looking for a place to chill and discuss the intricacies of our favourite family!

[superextrafamily]

Calling all Superfam Superfans!

Do you like fanworks that celebrate the love between Steve Rogers and Tony Stark while also bringing Peter and and their other kids into the mix? So do we! That’s why we’ve put together a fanwork exchange event to gift each other our guilty pleasures in the superfamily fandom. All writers and artists willing to create a gift for another matched participant are welcome to join!

Sign ups start April 1st (because we are fools for these boys) so mark your calendars! Sign ups will run through April 15, and by April 22, you’ll receive your match with several prompts to choose from. Participants have until June 22nd — that’s more than two months! — to submit their finished fanwork, and we’ll start celebrating Steve’s birthday a little early with reveals on July 3rd!

You can follow this blog or join our Discord server for more details. We hope to see you all join so we can feast on a lot of new Superfamily content this Stark spangled summer!

[superextrafamily]

Superfamily at Universal headcanons pt 1

Steve and tony wear ballcaps to disguise themselves. Steve wears a t-shirt with the Captain America shield

Steve takes pictures with Captain America and they have an actual long conversation. He's so convincing, steve momentarily forgets he's cap

Steve makes the same dad joke on every ride when they see the "child swap" sign, telling Peter they're gonna leave him there and bring home a new kid

Steve and peter argue over who gets to ride the motorbike on Hagrid every time (peter is always stuck on the sidecar)...while tony gets his choice on the car behind them

Steve and tony get a little anxious sometimes on the spider man ride imagining him getting in danger like this all the time

Peter begs them to park in the Spider-Man section every time

Peter is oddly in love with the ET ride and even tho the alien is a little bit creepy to Steve, he lets peter drag them on it again and again

Peter mumbles threats to the kid that got the seat with ET in the bike

Steve spends too long winning tony a stuffed animal in the Simpsons section

Steve listens to the blues Brothers and he gets so into it, it's almost embarrassing to peter

No it's definitely embarrassing

Tony gets them all their Hoggard house merch to wear (t: ravenclaw, s: gryffindor, p: hufflepuff)

Peter has a hard time staying still when they're waiting in line

Steve keeps a fidget cube for him in his fanny pack that he hands over when he needs it

Tony reminds steve to wear sunblock every time but at the end of the day, Steve's cheeks and nose are red

Tony spoils them silly

Peter falls asleep in the car every time on the way back to the hotel

[superextrafamily]

without a fight

Peter wasn’t one to be jealous of other kids’ parents. He’d been lucky to not have only two but six great parents that would do anything for him: first his parents, then Ben and May, and now Steve and Tony. Though now they were just Pops and Dad. Referring to them as anything else didn’t feel right.

There was no reason to be jealous of anyone else because they didn’t have the best parents; he did.

But sometimes, at times like this, he was insanely jealous. So jealous he wouldn’t be surprised if he turned green from envy one day.

Because maybe they didn’t have a dad that made their lunch every day, making sure to pack their favorite snacks. And maybe they didn’t have a pops that made them a cup of tea whenever they were upset to help calm their anxiety.

But they also didn’t have parents with a job that left them wondering if they’d come home.

Peter did.

Every time Dad and Pops went on a mission, they left an anxious teenager behind wondering if that was going to be the last time he saw them. He always squeezed his arms around them as tight as he could and made them promise to come home before they pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Then he’d stay up until they walked back through that door.

He didn’t do that this time because he had been so selfish, so stupid, so immature.

He’d let a dumb little argument stop him from getting his goodbye. He stayed in bed, staring at his wall until he heard them leave. And he stayed there all day until there was a knock on his door. It was Natasha coming to check in on him. Somehow, she managed to drag him out of his room, to the kitchen, and get him to eat the dinner she made.

“Am I gonna get a smile tonight?” She asked.

Peter bared his teeth in the most sarcastic grin possible for only a moment before he let it drop off his face. Then he went back to staring down at his plate as he pushed his food around.

Nat sighed. “Peter, Tony mentioned you guys had a little fight before--.”

“I’m not a baby,” Peter interrupted her petulantly.

“Oh, you’re really helping your case with that pout.”

Peter glared up at her, but stopped giving her his attitude when he saw the look in her eyes. She didn’t deserve his brattiness when she wasn’t even the one that refused to let him join the mission. Hell, even the two that refused to let him tag along didn’t deserve his brattiness. He let his shoulders slump and mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

She stared at him for a moment pretending to think before saying, “I’ll forgive you if you watch a movie with me.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” He really didn’t. He had stayed home alone before just fine. He might have been too young to go on the mission, but he wasn’t too young to take care of himself for a weekend.

“No, you don’t,” Nat agreed. “But you do need a friend.”

Peter grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue it. She was right and they both knew it. He was always anxious when Dad and Pops went on a mission, but now it was a million times worse when the last conversation they had together was an argument.

“So, what do you say I clean up these dishes and you go get a movie started?” She gave him a small smile. Peter must have been really pathetic if Nat was offering to do the dishes.

But regardless of the reason why Nat was being so kind to him and no matter how much pity was involved, Peter still sat with her on the couch as the movie played. He was barely paying attention, only watching the screen.

He couldn’t enjoy himself when he was too busy worrying about what the hell his parents were going through. If something happened to them then the last thing they’d remember was Peter’s cruel words and angry glare.

His eyes started to burn at just the thought, so before the movie even hit the halfway point, Peter excused himself and went to bed. Nat had looked at him with obvious concern, but she still let him go back to his room.

Then he laid in bed wide awake, staring up at the glow in the dark stickers Pops had put up for him. The tears that had been threatening to fall finally escaped from his eyes, trailing down the sides of his temples. He sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Peter, would you like me to alert Miss Romanoff of your distress?” FRIDAY asked softly.

Peter wiped at his eyes frantically as if she wouldn’t be able to see he was still upset. “No. I’m fine. Don’t tell her.” But the thing was, he wasn’t fine. He was upset and he was scared and the only people that could make him feel better were in an undisclosed location hunting Hydra.

So he stared up at the ceiling, tears streaming down into his ears until he finally fell asleep.

“Can I come with you?” Peter asked, excitedly following Pops as he got himself ready for the mission.

“No,” Pops said without hesitation as he grabbed his boots to pull on.

Peter frowned. “Why not?”

Steve looked at him with a frown and said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Because you’re not ready?”

Peter groaned, rolling his eyes. “I’m ready! I go patrolling all the time and I’m fine.”

“Tony,” Pops said, lacing up his boot without looking up. “Tell your son he’s not ready for a mission like this yet.”

“He’s right, kiddo,” Dad said, sounding more apologetic about it than Pops. “This is really dangerous.”

“I’m not a child. I know it’s dangerous. That’s why I want to come and help you.”

Pops tilted his head. “Except you are a child. You’re our child. Which is you you can’t come help. I can’t be worrying about you when I need to worry about a mission.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Worry about me? I’m a superhero too.”

“You’re my kid first,” Pops challenged. “And as my kid, I will always worry about you. Especially when we’re trying to take down a bunch of terrorists that have no qualms with killing a child.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Peter said, “Then it’s good I can take care of myself.”

“You’re not coming,” Pops said as he stood up straighter. “Maybe another time. After--.”

“You always say that! But the truth is you’ll never let me help!”

Pops continued like Peter hadn’t just interrupted him, “After you have proper training and you’re ready to join us.”

“I have enough training!”

“Stopping muggers and crimes throughout Queens every night isn't necessarily fighting Hydra, Peter.” Pops crossed his arms over his chest, matching Peter’s stance.

“What about lifting a building off of myself and crashing that plane on a beach to stop Vulture? That’s just little insignificant stuff too, huh?”

Pops flinched slightly when Peter mentioned that night. Pops hadn’t been his Pops at that point, but now he was and he hated thinking of Peter hurt. It was a low blow for Peter to use, but he wanted to see him falter in his argument. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Peter. I know what you are capable of, but I’m only trying to help situations like that from happening again.”

“If you never let me out, how will be able to show you I’m ready?”

“Training,” Pops answered simply.

Peter scoffed. “Whatever.”

“Don’t whatever me, Peter Benjamin,” Pops said. He sighed before softening his voice, “I’ll start training you, buddy. There’s no need to rush into anything.”

“Sorry, I’d be such an inconvenience.” Peter stared down at his feet.

“Peter, I didn’t--.”

“No. I get it. Don’t worry. I won’t be there to slow you down.” He turned around and stormed out of the room. He heard his dads calling after him, but he ignored them. He made sure to stomp his feet extra hard and slammed door as hard as he could just so his parents knew he was upset. When he was inside his room, he laid in bed, glaring angrily at his wall until there was a soft knock as his door and someone was opening it up.

He heard his dad call out softly, “Petey, we’re heading out.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t move. He didn’t want to talk to either of them.

“Bubba,” Dad tried again, “You want to come say goodbye? We’re gonna be all weekend.”

Peter didn’t move even as Dad started to walk into the room. He walked around his bed, leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby. I love you.” He brushed his hands through his hair. “So does Pops.” He didn’t move for a moment and Peter knew he was waiting for him to crack-- which he almost did --but finally, he sighed and said, “We’ll be home soon.” Then he left the room and Peter was alone.

Peter woke up and again, he was alone. But that wasn’t what was wrong. There was something else wrong. Something very wrong. Wrong enough to wake him up in the dead of the night. His spidey senses were practically screaming at him.

He pushed himself out of bed and looked over at his alarm clock on his bedside table. It was a little after 3 in the morning. Peter rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked up at the ceiling when he whispered, “Hey, FRIDAY, is everything okay? Is Nat okay?”

“Miss Romanoff is currently on the phone with Mr. Barton,” FRIDAY replied.

Peter frowned. What was she doing talking to Clint at 3 in the morning? Unless something was wrong…

Peter jumped out of bed and hurried out of his room. He ran down the hall, his bare feet silent against the floor and didn’t stop until he was just outside of the living room and he could hear Nat. He peeked around the corner and could see her standing up as she spoke to Clint through a video call. She looked stressed as she ran a hand through her hair.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Clint?” She asked and for the first in his life, he knew what Black Widow sounded like when she was scared.

“We looked, Nat. We checked anywhere they could be hiding if they even were even able to escape. There’s nothing,” Clint said.

“Look again,” Nat ordered. “Send a hundred more people in to search everywhere until they bring them home.”

“Nat…” Clint said with a sigh. “I know you don’t want to think about it, but they’re gone.”

Peter’s entire world stopped spinning when he heard Clint say those words. He knew who they were. Iron Man and Captain America. His dad and his pops...Peter covered his mouth to stifle any sounds that were about to come out as he attempted not to burst into sobs.

“No! Dammit, that’s not possible. You hear me? You think Tony Stark and Steve Rogers would just leave us like that? No, forget about us for a moment. You think they would leave Peter like that?”

She was right. They wouldn't. No matter how much of a brat Peter was to them, they would never leave. They knew it would break him and they would never hurt Peter like that. Never in a million years.

“Nat, it’s not like they had a choice. The place was rigged to blow. It exploded the minute they got in there.”

Peter’s knees crumbled underneath him and he fell to the floor, using the wall to hold his weight. He was shaking his head, denying Clint’s report. It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be. They weren’t dead. They couldn’t be dead.

The rest of their conversation was lost to his ears because all he could hear was his heart pounding. Tears were streaming down his face as he started to cry. He pressed his hand tighter over his mouth, hoping it would muffle some of his sobs.

His parents couldn’t be dead. They couldn’t. Not when Peter didn’t even say goodbye. He didn’t give them a hug. He didn’t give them a kiss. He didn’t give them anything but his attitude.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and continued to cry, willing it all to be a nightmare. Maybe he didn’t wake up yet. He would give anything for it to be a bad dream.

But then there was a hand on his wrist and another cupping his cheek. He opened his eyes to see Nat kneeling in front of him. Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t hear a word she was saying.

He didn’t want to hear it though. He knew she’s tell him the same bullshit they told him with his parents and with his aunt and uncle. It was going to be okay. But it wasn’t. It was never going to be okay.

So he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get her to disappear.

It didn’t work.

He stayed there, wheezing through a panic and she continued to rub his arm gently and caress his cheek. Eventually, he stopped hyperventilating enough to hear her softly soothing him. “It’s okay, malen’kiy. It’s going to be okay.”

He shook his head because she was wrong. She was so wrong. He couldn’t lose them. He couldn’t live without them. He didn’t want to. “Don’t say that,” he said through his sobbing. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Oh, Peter...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She tried to pull him into a hug, but he yanked himself away from her. “Peter,” she said in shock.

“Go away,” he said, trying to pull away from her hold, but she refused to let him go.

Despite his harsh tone, she didn’t go anywhere. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to leave you alone after this. I told Tony and Steve I’d watch you and that’s what I’m doing.”

Peter’s crying started back up when she mentioned their names. “I don’t want you to watch me.”

“Too bad,” she responded, holding him tighter.

Peter grunted and tried fighting against her. He should have easily been able to fight her off, but he couldn't now. He could barely sit up without letting himself fall over. He fought her for the next few seconds, trying to get away from her and all by himself.

“I want them back,” he sobbed, trying to shove her away.

“I know, Peter.”

“Tell them to come home!” He yelled, even though he knew it was impossible. He smacked his hand against her shoulder, using only a fraction of his strength.

She refused to go anywhere and eventually, he gave in. He stopped fighting her and let himself fall forward. She caught him before he could hit the ground and pulled him close to her.

He wrapped his arms around her and even though he hated her hug, he didn’t let go. He hated her hugs because they were as tight as Dad hugged and they weren’t as enveloping as Pops’ were. It was all wrong.

“I didn’t even say goodbye,” he said, hating himself. “I was a dick and didn’t even say goodbye.” Nat didn’t say a word to that; she only pulled him in closer. “I didn’t say I love you.”

“Stop that,” she said. “Don’t you dare think that they didn’t know how much you loved them.”

Peter rubbed at his eyes to try and clear some of the tears. “I had some way of showing them.”

Nat didn’t give in. “They knew you loved them endlessly and they loved you more than anything. I promise.”

Loved. Past tense. No more. There were no more dad sandwiches or dad kisses or movie nights or hair ruffles...there was no more of anything. It was all gone. The reason Peter was still waking up with a smile on his face was gone.

He felt his eyes burning again and before Nat could stop him, he was shoving himself out of her arms and racing back to his room.

“Peter, wait!”

Peter could barely hear her shout over his sobs as he ran. He threw open his bedroom door, slammed it behind him and jumped onto his bed. He stuffed his face in a pillow and screamed. He screamed as loud as his lungs would let him, even as it pained his throat.

He screamed again after taking in a quick breath. His pillow was being soaked with tears and snot, but he really didn't care. He didn't care that he was screaming so loud, it sounded like he was being killed. He didn't care that Nat was outside of his door, pounding on it to let her in. He didn't care that FRIDAY was trying to calm he down.

He threw his pillow across the room, watching as it hit a Star Wars Lego set on his shelf. It fell to the ground and crashed into hundreds of pieces.

Looking at the Legos on the floor only made him more upset when he remembered how Pops always made a big deal about navigating through his room like it was a minefield. He hated stepping on the little pieces, but Peter thought it was hilarious to watch him yelp and jump.

He flopped backwards, but looking up was even worse. Those stupid stars.

The only thing he could do was grab another pillow and squeeze I close to his chest as he shut his eyes. He wanted to block it all out. He wanted it to go away.

Peter fell asleep like that eventually, hoping he didn't wake up.

Unfortunately, he did wake up. He woke up to all of his tears and snot dried to his face. He didn't have the energy to wipe it off or even move. He laid there miserably, wondering how much longer he had to suffer through life like this. Because he was not living in this world without his dad and pops. No way. Impossible.

Nat came in a little later to try and coax him out of bed. She left and came back with a damp cloth to wash his face, but he still didn't move.

“Peter, you need to eat.”

“Leave me alone,” Peter grumbled.

“I brought in some toast. It's not too heavy just something to eat.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“I don't care. You need to eat.”

Peter glared up at her. “No. What I need are my parents.”

Natasha winced as if Peter slapped her. “Pete...I'm sorry.”

Peter huffed and rolled over to face away from her. He didn't want to see the pity on her face. “Just go.”

“Not until you eat.”

“You'll be waiting a while.”

She did wait a while. She waited hours. But eventually, she had to leave. She still had things to take care of with the mission. Wrapping things up.

She left and Peter still didn't move except for when he had to use the restroom once. He was straight back to bed afterward.

Natasha came back to check in, apologizing that she couldn't give him her full attention right now.

Peter didn't want it. She wasn't his mother. Actually--. “So what happens now?” He asked her before she could leave.

Natasha didn't answer immediately. “What do you mean?”

“Dad and Pops are dead. Who does the sad little orphan get sent to now?” He asked in such a careless tone. He didn't care. Wherever he was going, it wouldn't be enough. No one would ever be enough.

“Pete, we haven't even started discussing that. I'll be staying with you now...but after the services and you're a little more clear-headed, we'll have a talk.”

Peter wanted to shout at her. He wanted her to plan a funeral for three people instead of two. But she would only worry. She'd probably cry. Probably send him to a therapist.

He didn't need any of that.

He needed his dads.

He needed them safe at home.

They should be safe at home if it weren't for their stupid jobs and their stupid missions. God, he hated it. They were supposed to stay safe. They promised every time they left that they'd be safe.

Pops even had an extra good luck charm...it was supposed to protect him. But then again, it was supposed to protect Ben too.

Maybe it was doomed to fail or maybe it was good luck. Maybe it had the best luck, but it wasn't enough to fight the horrible luck Peter brought along.

No one was safe around him.

He ruined everything.

Peter cried again until he fell asleep.

“Pops, wait!” Peter shouted, running after Pops to catch him before he left.

Pops turned around with a smile on his face. “Hey, bud,” he said, catching him in his arms. “You okay?”

Peter hugged him tightly, nodding his head. It was a lie. He wasn't okay. But he'd lie for Pops. “I'm okay. Just wanted to say I love you one more time.”

Pops ruffled his hair fondly. “Love you too, bear. I'll be back before you know it.”

Peter couldn’t believe that for a certain fact. He'd been on lots of missions before and always made it home safe, but today was different. Today was different because his nightmare from last night was still haunting him.

(Pops was dead and Peter was kneeling by his body, using his bloody hands to try and stop the never-ending bleeding.

It was so real.

He woke up screaming Pops’ name with tears running down his face. Pops was in his room before he could finish his screams.

Pops flipped the light on as he ran inside. “Peter. Peter,” he said as he hurried to sit next to Peter. Peter stared at him with wide eyes. “It's okay, bud. I'm here. Pops is right here.”

Pops started to run his fingers through his hair and Peter grabbed his hands with his. This felt real. Pops was alive.

“You were d-dead,” Peter whispered, not willing to take his eyes off Pops. “There was so much blood.”

Pops pulled him so close to his chest, Peter felt his heart beating. “It was just a dream, sweetie. I'm okay. I'm okay.”

Pops carried him back into his bedroom and laid him down. He refused to let go of Pops even as he got into bed himself. Dad was on the other side, hushing him softly.

Peter laid there all night long, hands fisted tightly in Pops’ t-shirt and his wide eyes staring right at him.

Pops rubbed his head and pressed a kiss to the top of it. “I'm okay, Pete. You can go to sleep.”

Peter shook his head, unable to get the image of his Pops dying out of his head.

“Alright, buddy. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.”)

“I have something for you. It'll keep you safe today.”

Pops’ face softened. “Oh, Pete. I know you're still shaken up after that nightmare last night. I'll be okay.”

Peter didn't want to be reminded of last night. Both because the memory of the nightmare terrified him and the fact that Peter had cried and stayed away staring at Pops all night long.

He pulled out the necklace he had in his pocket. He held it out to Pops. “This is for you.”

Pops frowned curiously, taking the necklace in his hand. He looked at the small charm on the chain.

Peter explained as he studied it. “It's a St. Michael necklace. He's the patron saint of police officers, among many other things...it belonged to my Uncle Ben.”

The confusion in Pops’ face immediately washed away. “Pete…”

“I know you're not a police officer, but he also protects military and you're military, right, Captain?” He smiled as he watched Pops hold the chain delicately in his hands.

“Peter, I can't take this.”

Peter pulled his hands away, nodding his head. “Yes, you can. Please. I want you to have it. It'll keep you safe on all these missions.”

“But…”

“He'd want you to have it,” Peter said, meaning every word. Pops went to church just about every Sunday. He prayed before meals, bed, and even Yankees games.

“Are you sure, Petey?” Pops asked hesitantly.

“Positive. Please.”

Pops gave him a small smile before putting it around his neck. He looked down at it, rubbing his thumb over the pendant before tucking it into his shirt. “Thank you, Peter. I'll take extra good care of it. I promise.”

“Even though you have that,” Peter said, “please be careful still. Come home.”

Pops stepped forward taking Peter’s cheeks in his hands. He looked down at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Of course, I will, Peter.”

“If you don't, you'll break Dad’s heart. And remember what I said to you when you asked me if you could marry him? I said if you broke his heart, you'd be in big trouble. So...you better come home.”

Pops kissed his forehead again. “I'm coming home, Peter. I promise I will always come home to you. You're my boy.”

“Peter, please open the door,” Nat said, pounding on the door. “Someone is on the phone for you.”

“Go away,” Peter said, just loud enough for her to hear. He had FRIDAY lock the door of his bedroom and he planned to keep it that way.  

“Peter, come on. Let me in.” She started knocking again.

“Leave me alone!” He shouted at the door. He didn't care that it had been a while since he'd left his bed. He never planned on leaving it again.

“Peter, just come out here and talk to--.”

“No!”

He could hear her grunt in frustration on the other end before shouting back, “Fine!” Then she was gone.

Peter huffed even though no one could hear his frustration. His dads were always the ones that came in when he was upset and refused to leave until he was less upset. Peter didn't even need to tell either of them he was upset; they just knew he needed comfort and they gave it to him.

No one could ever replace them.

So no one was coming in here to try and make him smile.

He pulled his blanket over his head and decided he was going to spend the rest of his life here. And the only people that could ever get him to smile again...were gone.

He laid there until his eyes grew too heavy to keep open. They closed before too long and he didn't open them again.

Not even when the sound of someone opening his bedroom door and sneaking inside woke him up.

He guessed it was Nat. FRIDAY probably unlocked the door finally for her to come in. It had been hours, maybe days since he had eaten something last. His stomach refused to let him forget that, but he didn't care. His hunger was the least important thing to worry about right now.

“Go away,” he grumbled, hoping his voice wasn't too muffled through the blanket. “I don't want your food.”

“I don't have any food, but how about a hug?”

Peter froze at the sound of that voice. That wasn't Nat, that was...no, but that was impossible!

“Come on. I know you're upset, but something tells me a Dad sandwich will make everything better. It always does.”

As impossible as it was, that was him. That was Pops. He shot up immediately, throwing the blanket off of him, only getting slightly tangled before he was free.

Pops was there, still in his uniform. His face was just as bloody as the rest of him. There was a trail of blood going down his temple and his skin was covered in dirt and bruises.  Peter looked over at Dad, who was holding him up.

He looked bruised, but he wasn't nearly as hurt as Pops was. He was in his underclothes for the Iron Man suit.

“Pops-- Dad... what--? Am I dreaming?” Please say no. Please say no.

“You're not dreaming, Petey,” Dad said.

Peter couldn't just believe his words. He needed to know. He threw himself forward and wrapped one arm around Pops and one around Dad.

Pops gasped in pain but still wrapped a secure arm around Peter. Peter tried pulling away so he stopped hurting him, but Pops only held him tighter. “Don't you dare go anywhere. Please just let me hold you.”

Peter could hear the tears in his voice and that was all he needed to start crying himself. Dad pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Peter held onto them for a little bit longer before pulling away only slightly. he looked at Pops angrily. “You lied!” He yelled, tears pouring down his cheeks. “You said you'd always come home and you didn't! You lied to me!”

Pops hushed him gently, cupping his cheek. “I'm home. I came home. I'm here.”

“I thought you were dead!” Peter sobbed.

“I'm sorry, Pete. We got stuck and lost communication. We only just got back and we came to you as soon as we could.”

“Pops is right,” Dad told him. “He's supposed to be in medbay right now and he came running here first. To come see you.”

“I thought I lost you,” Peter whispered, his voice breaking. “I thought you were both gone forever.”

“We came home. We're home now,” Dad reassured him.

Peter was relieved that they were home. It was the best thing that could ever happen to him, but that didn't take away the hours he spent terrified without them. He was afraid to ever let them out of his sight again.

“I can't lose you,” Peter cried, shaking his head. “I can't lose you.”

“You didn't lose us.”

But one day he would. Eventually, he was going to lose both of them. The day it came, he wouldn't be ready. Even if the day came years later. He would never be ready.

Especially now. Especially when the last thing he would have said to them were cruel words in an argument.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said before you left. I thought that was the last thing I said to you and I would never get to apolo--.”

“Stop,” Pops said, his voice low. “Peter. I thought I was going to die. Beat, stabbed and lost...I really thought that was it. And my biggest regret was you living the rest of your life thinking I’m not always 100% proud of you. Because I am. Your my boy and I know you can take care of yourself, but I don't want you to. Because that's my job. I always do everything in life to protect you.”

Peter could see the sheen of sweat of his face and the paleness of his skin. He was not looking good, but he was still here making sure Peter was okay.

Peter couldn't help but smile at him and press a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, Pops.” He turned to Dad. “I love you too, Dad. But what do you say we get Pops some help?”

Dad sighed heavily. “Thank God. Thought I'd never convince him.”

They each took a side of Pops to start helping him limp out of the room and down the hallway. They passed by Nat, who was watching them with a smirk.

“Next time I tell you someone is on the phone for you, you better listen so he doesn't worry the entire trip back and then stumble up to your room instead of going to the medbay like he so desperately needs.”

Peter glanced back to watch Dad worry about how Pops was doing. He smiled at Nat and said, “Deal. But don't worry, I don't plan on letting them out of my sight any time soon.”

ao3 | buy me a coffee

[superextrafamily]

after school nap

Peter smiled down at his phone as the elevator took him up to their living room floor. There was a text from his boyfriend even though he had just seen him literally 3 minutes ago when he dropped him off.

Harry: Get inside safe?

Peter rolled his eyes as he typed an answer, but his smile didn’t disappear. Of course he was in here safe; Harry hadn’t driven away until Peter was inside and there wasn’t anywhere else to go once he was in the lobby-- except take the elevator up to their private floors.

Harry didn’t answer after that, but Peter was glad. He was driving home, so he wouldn’t respond until he was home safe now.

The elevator opened and Peter walked out, Tessa was immediately at his feet. Peter dropped his backpack on the floor (Even though Pops told him he had to stop just dropping his stuff as he walked inside. He always left a trail to follow.) and kneeled down to give her her pets. “Hi, baby girl,” he cooed. She jumped up to lick his face. Peter laughed. “I missed you too!”

Once Tessa was satisfied with enough pets and kisses, Peter stood up again, kicking his shoes off as he walked over to the kitchen, one went flying to the side and the other a few feet in front of him. Usually, one of his dads were in there with after-school snacks. None were in sight, but Dad could be stuck in some Stark Industries meeting.

“Where’s Papa and Dodger?” Peter asked Tessa as she trotted next to him. They left the empty kitchen and headed into the living room. The TV was stuck on a message from Netflix asking if anyone was still watching. Pops must have been binging again and forgot to turn it off.

He found out why a moment later when he walked around the couch and found his pops. He was laying on the couch with Dodger on his legs; both of them were sound asleep. Peter covered his mouth to muffle his laughter. “Oh, there they are,” he whispered.

Tessa gave a soft bark and Peter hushed her. “Don’t wake them up, princess. Why don’t you go find Bree, huh? I’m sure she’ll give you the best cuddles.”

Tessa wagged her tail happily and jumped up on the armchair before curling up in a ball. Peter smiled at her. “Okay, you can nap there. I’m gonna cuddle up with Pops,” he said, keeping his voice low. He didn’t want to wake him up and risk Pops getting up off the couch.

He kneeled down and slowly lifted Pops’ arm up. He stopped when Pops let out a heavy breath and he waited a moment before climbing up onto the couch. There wasn’t much room for Peter to lay there, but he made do. He squished himself against Pops’ side, shoving his legs between his to tangle them together so he didn’t fall off. Then he tucked himself close to Pops’ chest and made sure his head was pressed against his chest so he could feel the steady beating of Pops’ heart against his cheek before placing Pops’ arm around him. He smiled and snuggled in closer, letting his eyes shut.

A few seconds later he heard Pops groan and mumble, “Pete, s’that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Papa,” Peter said, keeping his voice soft so he didn’t wake up Pops anymore. He was using the same voice Pops used when he woke him up early before school to say goodbye before his run and Peter still had time to go back to sleep.

“How’s school?” He mumbled, moving his hand to thread his fingers through Peter’s curls.

Peter smiled. “It was great.”

“M’glad,” he mumbled before pressing a kiss to the top of Peter’s head. “Hungry? Can make somethin’ for you.”

Peter shook his head, grabbing onto Pops. “No. I’m okay.” Don’t get up. Please.

“Sure?”

“I’m sure,” Peter said.

“Homework?”

“I finished it at Harry’s practice,” Peter told him, his voice still low.

“Sleepy?” He mumbled.

Peter relaxed in his arms. “Very.”

“We’ll take a lil nap before Dad gets home for dinner, ‘kay?” Pops asked, pulling Peter closer to him. His voice told Peter he was already falling asleep again.

Peter shut his eyes again, focusing on Pops’ arms around him and the steady beating of his heart. “Love you, Papa.”

“Love you too, bear.”

my ao3 | my ko-fi

[superextrafamily]

boy (run like you’re bulletproof)

Being the fathers of a reckless vigilante weren't always sunshine and roses. Steve finds that out when Peter comes home from patrol with a bullet still in his stomach.

Steve was having a nightmare.

The dream took a 360 spin because he was fine one moment. He was laying in bed with Tony safe in his arms. Their legs were intertwined together underneath the blankets. Steve’s breathing was matched up with Tony as they laid together. Dodger was pressed against his back, sleeping soundly.

Then the dream went wrong.

He heard his bedroom door open followed by the sound of slow and uneven footsteps across their carpet. Steve didn’t move, assuming maybe it was one of the pets just roaming the tower. However, a few seconds later, there was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

He didn’t want to leave this perfect dream he had going with Tony, though. So, he snuggled up closer to his husband trying to ignore the the shaking as it continued.

Then there was a pained whimper, “Papa, please.”

As a father, Steve had a switch that when flipped, he was sent straight into his protective overdrive and nothing could stop him from keeping Peter safe. So hearing his kid in pain had him shooting up in bed. “FRIDAY, lights on. Now.”

The lights flickered on and Steve looked over his shoulder, getting a good view of Peter. He was in his Spider-Man suit sans the mask and that was how Steve knew this had to be a dream. Peter wasn’t patrolling tonight; Steve and Tony had seen him go to bed a few hours earlier.

“Peter-- what’s going on?”

Peter pulled his hand back and pressed it against his stomach, his face twisting in pain. “I need your help.”

That was when Steve looked at the situation with a closer eye. Peter was standing there, sweat covering his face. He looked so...real in front of him. And the metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils. It was so livid.

Peter said his name again when he didn’t speak, “Pops, I’m sorry--.”

It all crashed down at once.

“This is real.”

Petr nodded his head, just barely.

“Fuck,” Steve said, turning to Tony and shook him roughly. “Tony, get up.”

Tony immediately stirred; neither of them could afford to be heavy sleepers. “Wha’s wrong?” He slurred tiredly.

“Peter’s hurt.”

Tony had one of the father switches too, so at those words he was up and blinking furiously in an attempt to chase away his drowsiness. “What happened?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

Steve’s eyes went down to Peter’s stomach. His hands were encrusted with blood. He looked back up at Peter pointedly. “I’m not sure.”

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

“Sorry doesn’t help us now, Peter.” He sat up so he could see Peter better. “Move your hands.”

Peter only hesitated a moment before he lifted his hands and showed Steve the wound he was hiding...except, it was still hiding. “Peter, please tell me that’s not what I think is.”

“I--uh…” Peter flustered.

“Peter Benjamin, please tell me you didn’t use your webs to close a wound.”

“I panicked!” Peter said, his voice cracking.

Steve huffed in frustration. “Peter, for such an intelligent kid, sometimes you surprise me with the shit you do.”

Tony’s voice was softer but still just as upset as Steve’s. “Pete, the chemicals in your webs really shouldn’t be near an open wound and your blood.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said again, his breathing picking up. “I didn’t know what to do--.”

Steve felt bad for getting so upset when Peter was obviously terrified. “Well, you came to us. That’s good. Now we can figure out what to do next.”

Peter just nodded.

“Here, baby, come lay down.”

With the help of Steve, Peter got into bed and laid down. “It’s a gunshot wound,” he said, refusing to move his gaze from directly at the ceiling. “The bullet is still in there.”

Steve cursed under his breath. That had to hurt like hell-- his kid was shot. “Well, we’re gonna have to clean the wound and get it out.”

“I could call Helen, but she’s not on call, so I can’t tell when she’ll get here.”

Steve scoffed. “Yeah. She’s not on call because we weren’t expecting any battle wounds at this time of the night.”

Peter mumbled out another apology as Steve sat down next to him on the bed, inspecting the webbed mess on his stomach. He turned to Tony and said, “Tony, can you get whatever stuff he uses to make this stuff dissolve? And I’ll need the suture kit we’ve got in medbay, a towel, and your suit-- bring your suit.”

Tony paused and repeated, “My suit?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah...we’re gonna need it.”

Tony nodded and then hurried out of the room, promising to be back as soon as possible.

Steve turned his attention back to Peter where Dodger was licking his face, trying to keep him calm. When Peter saw his eyes on him, he started to apologize, but Steve stopped him, “We’ll worry about that later. Right now I just want to get this fixed and get you safe.”

“What...what do you have to do?”

Steve wasn’t going to lie to the kid. He was going through it and deserved to understand. “I’m gonna have to pull the bullet out, sterilize the wound, and then stitch it up.”

“It’s gonna hurt?” Peter asked in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, it’s gonna hurt,” he told him, unable to look at him when he did so.

“...okay. Guess I deserve it.”

Steve looked down at him and when Peter was staring up at him wide eyes, it shook him just how young this kid was. He was going out there, risking his life alongside adults. A kid should never go through something like this. “You don’t, so don’t go saying that.”

Peter shut his eyes, but didn’t argue it. In that moment, Tony came back into the room in a suit and with his arms full. He placed everything by Steve on the bed and then asked, “What do you need me to do, love?”

“Let him hold you hand-- suit on.” Steve started sifting through the pile and found a capped vial that looked like the solvent to get rid of the webbing. “He’s gonna need to squeeze. And this,” Steve said tossing the towel to Peter. “Bite down on that to spare those teeth of yours.”

Peter hesitated, but stuck the towel between his teeth and bit down. Tony sat by his side, and took Peter’s hand in his.

“Squeeze as hard as you need, Petey,” Tony whispered softly.

Peter nodded, wide eyes staring up at him and away from where Steve was working.

“Ready?” Steve asked, waiting for Peter’s nod before pouring the solvent on his webbing. It disappeared slowly until his suit was showing and then blood was starting to seep out again. He tapped the spider on Peter’s chest so the suit loosened on him and he could pull it down to his waist so he had a clear view of the wound. “Okay, Pete, I’m gonna have to go in and find the bullet to pull it out.” He carefully used the tweezers to stick inside the small hole, searching for the bullet. Peter grunted and began to breathe heavy through his nose. Tony did his best to keep him calm.

Steve had done this before during the war when they were desperate. But never once did the pained sounds he caused in trying to fix this hurt as much as Peter’s did. After a twist of his tweezers, Peter let out a sudden cry and his hand not being held by Tony shot to his stomach to try and shove Steve’s hand away. “Tony, you have to hold both. He can’t move and try to get in the way.”

“Right, right. Sorry,” Tony said, leaning forward to hold both of Peter’s hands. Steve didn’t like needing the Iron Man suit to hold Peter back, but it was better than bringing him into the medbay and tying im down. Steve had that done to him before and he didn’t like it-- there was no reason to put Peter through it if they could help it.

Once Tony had Peter’s arms restrained and he wasn’t squirming any longer, Steve continued. Peter’s muffled grunts of pain started back up, but Steve ignored them. If he didn’t, he’d stop. He had to find the bullet.

And thankfully, not long after, his tweezers hit into something hard and he knew it was it.

“I found it, Pete,” Steve said, looking at his face for the first time since he started. “I’m gonna pull it out now. Almost there, bud.”

Peter nodded, sweating profusely with his curls plastered to his forehead.

“You’re doing so good,” Steve told him before turning back to the wound. He opened the tweezers and Peter let out a deep whine of pain. Steve hated that he was hurting him. But he had to...so he grabbed ahold of the bullet and started pulling it slowly out, trying to block out the sounds of agony Peter was making.

He finally had the bullet out and dropped it in the lid of the suture kit with the tweezers. It was all covered in blood. There was so much blood. Especially now seeping from his wound without the bullet to slow the flow.

“I have to clean it now,” Steve said, picking up the alcohol. “This...this is gonna hurt more. Tony make sure he doesn’t move too much. On 3. 1...2--.” He didn’t wait for 3 before he poured the alcohol into the wound to clean it out. Immediately, Peter shouted, lifting himself off the mattress in pain.

Steve made the mistake of looking up at him. His face was twisted in agony as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and trailed down the side of his temples. The towel fell from his mout as he cried out in pain and Tony replaced it for him.

When Tony spoke, it sounded like he was holding back his own tears. “It’s okay, baby. Pops is almost done. You’re doing so well.”

There was no way Peter heard him through his grunts and labored breathing.

Steve couldn’t afford to look at Peter anymore. There was no way he’d get this done if he recognized the pain he was putting Peter through. Even if it was just to help him. He picked up the needle and the thread so he could start stitching it up. Peter made a few noises of pain, but it wasn’t as bad as the alcohol. He finished it up and didn’t give a warning before pouring a little more alcohol over the wound just to clean it again. At least, this time, the wound wasn’t open so it didn’t hurt him as much.

When he finally finished it, he sat back. Now that the job was done, it started to really sink in what he’d done. “Tony, can you just clean it up and wrap it up? I’ve gotta take care of this stuff.” He didn’t wait for an answer before he was grabbing the small box and hurrying out of the room into the ensuite bathroom. He shut the door behind him and dropped the box on the sink.

He leaned over and stared down at his bloody hands, waiting underneath the faucet. He couldn’t move to turn the water on. He was frozen. That was Peter’s blood. His son. This wasn’t some soldier in World War II, this was his boy. He was crying and in pain because of him.

It was a sound that would easily haunt his dreams for weeks to come.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered to his reflection. “They need you. You need to stay cool. You’re fine. Peter’s the one that got shot-- oh God,” Steve said, feeling his stomach churn. “Peter was shot.”

He couldn’t breathe. It was like he was a kid again with his crappy lungs. His hands were shaking-- his blood covered hands.

He turned on the faucet, making sure it was all the way to the hot side. He pumped the hand soap into his palm until it was pouring over into the sink. The hot water burned his hands as he scrubbed his skin furiously under the stream. He needed the blood gone-- now.

It reminded him too much of being out on the battlefield, using his hands to try and stanch the flow of blood from gruesome wounds. Some he saved, most he lost. He remembered every single moment like that and some nights replayed the memories more vivid than others.

But, he never imagined Peter would be someone he’d have to treat.

He didn’t want this to be ingrained in his mind. He wanted it gone.

He scrubbed harder and harder, but his hands were still red.

The red wasn’t going away-- why wasn’t it going away?

Get off. Get off! It needed to get--.

“Steve! Stop it! You’re going to scrub your skin off-- this water is burning. Are you crazy?” There were hands grabbing his and pulling them from the water.

Steve tried to fight it. “I’ve gotta clean the blood-- I can’t--.”

He was turned around and came face to face with his husband. Tony was holding his wrists gently. “You got it off, baby. Your hands are clean.”

But they weren't. His hands were never clean. They were always covered in blood. Now...Peter’s blood too.

He must have either said the words out loud or shook his head because Tony was answering him a moment later, “No. They’re clean. Peter’s okay.”

Steve continued to stare down at his shaking hands. Tony took his hands in his.

“He’s okay. He’s in our bed, almost sleeping. He’s okay.”

Steve looked at Tony’s hands and there was no blood on his...there was no more blood. He stared intently down at his skin, waiting for that to change. But it never did. All he saw was Tony’s hands holding his.

“Peter’s okay?” Steve whispered, not able to meet Tony’s eyes yet.

“Yeah. I came in here to see if you were okay. You’ve been in here for a while.”

Steve swallowed past the lump in his throat. “He was crying. I was hurting him.”

Tony moved his hand away and Steve was afraid that Tony smartened up and realized he hurt their boy and he wasn’t going to want to hold him anymore. But the hand returned under his chin and lifted him up to stare at him. “You saved him. He’s okay because of you.”

Steve shook his head.

Tony sighed and took his hand again, tugging him towards the door. “Come on. Come see.”

Hesitantly, Steve let himself be pulled along into the bedroom again. He was afraid to look at the bed; he didn’t want to see Peter bleeding out.

“He’s okay. Look.”

Holding his breath, Steve glanced to the bed and saw Peter...sleeping. His stomach was wrapped up and he had on a pair of Tony’s sweatpants. He looked okay…he looked safe. Steve let the breath out and took a shaky step closer.

“You stitched him up perfectly. He’s gonna be fine in a few days,” Tony said softly, putting an arm around Steve.

“He’s safe.”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah. He’s safe-- tired too. Adrenaline left and he crashed. Not surprising, it is way past all our bedtimes. That means us too, love.”

“Yeah-- I can go sleep on the couch.”

“Steve, the bed is more than big enough. We’ve all shared before,” Tony said.

Did Peter even want to be near him? He made him shout in pain-- Steve never wanted to hurt him--.

“You’re thinking too much. Just...sit. Lay down. You’ll see.” Tony took his hand and pulled him into bed, next to Peter. Steve stayed rigid. “Baby, relax. It’s just Peter. Watch this.” Tony got into bed on the other side and shook Peter’s houlder gently.

Peter hummed in acknowledgment with his eyes still closed.

“Look who finally joined us.”

Turning his head to the side, Peter peeked an eye open and when he looked up at Steve, he smiled. With a tired flop of his arm, he reached up and grabbed Steve’s arm. “Come cuddle,” he mumbled.

Steve could feel the smug grin Tony was giving him as he laid down to get more comfortable. The minute he was settled, Peter moved in closer until he was snug against Steve’s side. Steve tried not to freak out-- this was normal. This was okay. He’d done this plenty of times before. Peter was okay. He was safe.

With a shaky hand, Steve lifted it to run through Peter’s sweaty hair. Peter melted at the touch, relaxing completely in Steve’s hold.

Tony came in close on his other side and said, “See? It’s gonna be okay. As long as he’s got us, he’s gonna be okay.”

But he couldn’t let him sleep just yet. He had to tell him. He shook his shoulder gently, careful not to move him too much. Peter opened an eye again. “Hmm?”

“Thank you for coming to us.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry if I seemed upset earlier-- I just don’t want you hurt. But, if you do get hurt, please keep coming to us. We can help you as long as you come to us and tell u what’s wrong. For any reason.”

Peter smiled, letting his eyes drift close again. “‘Course, Papa. You guys make it better every time.”

“We always will,” Steve promised, watching as Peter’s breathing evened out. He fell asleep with the smile still on his face and he looked so peaceful...Steve would dedicate the rest of his life to keeping that smile on his face.  

[superextrafamily]

Sorry for a long time with no fics posted, but I've got a long whumpy fic planned! Including art!

As you probably know, this universe is based off of an rp group so we have relationships and pets that you may not be aware of in this universe. Would you guys be interested in a Get to Know Them post including the pets and how the characters are in this universe?

[superextrafamily]

toothbrush

Some Baby Peter and Steve fluff :')

(Based on Toothbrush by Brad Paisley)

This wasn't the first time Steve had been in charge of Peter late at night. Tony was held up with important Stark Industries business, so Steve was the once putting their little rascal to bed. They had the bedtime routine down.

Peter liked to run around the tower, chasing the pets around. Dodger always loved to have a crazy pal to play with. Steve didn't mind because it usually tired the kid out and by his bedtime, he was crawling into Steve’s lap, sucking his thumb and twirling his hair.

The same thing had happened tonight. Except, Peter didn't even crawl over to Steve, Dodger trotted over carefully with the toddler laying on his back. Dodger was a wild dog and always bouncing off the walls, but he knew when to be quiet and calm. Like when he was carrying an almost asleep toddler on his back.

Peter barely stirred when Steve lifted him and held him close to his chest. He nestled his head close with a small smile. Steve smiled as well, speaking softly, “Did Dodger tucker you out, kiddo?” A tired nod. “How about we get you ready for bed then?”

He didn't wait for the response before he was walking to the little boy’s bedroom. He cradled Peter with one arm, rocking him gently as he pulled a pair of footie pajamas from his dresser.

Most nights, Peter needed a bath before bedtime because of the messes he made throughout the day. But tonight, he looked two seconds from passing out so sticking him in the bathtub wouldn’t be the best idea. So, he skipped the soapy water and the fuzzy towel in favor of skipping to getting his pajamas on. Steve helped him dress in the warm footie pajamas because Peter was stumbling with his eyes barely opened. He zipped them up and then lifted him up under his arms to stand him up on the stool against the sink, kept there just so Peter could reach. He liked to stand next to Steve and Tony in the morning as they got ready.

Steve pulled out his Star Wars toothbrush, his strawberry toothpaste and a small dixie cup. Before he needed to tell Peter, he was opening his mouth for him. Steve smiled and put a drop of the toothpaste on the brush before lifting it to Peter's little teeth.

Peter used to hate this part. He hated brushing his teeth and Steve could remember the first time he gave him a hard time when Tony wasn’t home. He ran and hid from Steve and the only way Steve convinced him to brush his teeth was tell him about his first date with Tony.

(“You know, Pete, the first time I went out with your dad, the first thing I did to get ready was brush my teeth.”

“Really?” He asked, sounding more like “R’wea’y?” because of his baby voice.

“Really,” he said, “I couldn't go see your dad without brushing my teeth. That'd be gross!” He made a face that Peter giggled at.

“Why? ‘Cus you wanna kiss him?” Peter sang, way too smart for his age.

“Oh, you're a little monster, you know that right?” Steve laughed. “But did you know that love starts with a toothbrush?”

Peter shook his head wirh wide eyes. He always loved learning new things.

“So what do you say, you let me brush those pearly whites of yours?”

Peter opened wide for Steve that night and each one after.

Tony and Steve found out that he didn't like the taste of the mint toothpaste, so after that, they only bought the kiddie fruit flavored ones.)

(The first time Peter called Steve something other than, “Mr. Steve”, he handed him his toothbrush and said, “I love you, Pops.”

Tony thought he was crazy, but Steve knew. He pulled the toddler into a hug. “I love you too, little man.”)

Once Steve brushed his teeth, he handed him the small cup of water and said, “Spit and rinse, buddy.”

Peter did so and then turned around to crawl back up in Steve’s arms. Steve laughed, wiping the toothpaste off his mouth. “Ready for bed now?”

Peter nodded his head, thumb finding its way back into his mouth. Steve held him close, running his hand through his messy curls. Peter let out a sleepy mumble to let Steve know he liked that.

Steve laughed as he walked to Peter's bedroom, sitting in his bed, holding Peter close, not ready to quite put him down yet.

“Love you, Papa,” Peter whispered, his hand grabbing tightly to his shirt like he never wanted to let go either.

Steve kissed the top of his head with a smile. “Love you too, sweetie.”

Love may start with a toothbrush, but it didn't end with goodnight kisses.

[superextrafamily]

just another day in paradise

“Then we'll tippy toe to our room Make a little love that's overdue But somebody had a bad dream Mama and daddy Can meand my teddy Come in to sleep in between?” Just Another Day in Paradise by Phil Vassar

Steve smiled, rolling to his side and facing his husband. He didn’t say a word; he only smiled.

It took just a moment for Tony to turn his attention away from the StarkPad in his hand. “Can I help you?”

“You’re very handsome,” Steve said softly, enjoying the way his words made Tony’s cheek blush.

“Funny you should say that. I think you’re very handsome too.”

Steve pushed himself up on his elbows, carefully taking the tablet from his hands. Tony could have stopped him if he really wanted to, but he didn’t. So, Steve placed it on the bedside table beside Tony’s side of the bed. While he was already leaning over Tony, he lowered himself to close the distance between their lips.

“You’ve been working so much lately.” He kissed him again. “When’s the last time we’ve had time alone?”

Tony chuckled. “Oh, is that why the pets aren’t joining us tonight?”

“I told them to hang out in the den tonight. Maybe they’ll go see Pete and have a sleepover.”

“Aw,” Tony cooed, “all of our babies cuddled up together. Imagine how adorable.”

Steve frowned. “Yes. Very adorable. But, how about you imagine how sexy I am now that we’re alone?”

“Oh, yes. Very sexy,” Tony agreed, only half-kidding, pulling on Steve’s collar until they were flush with their chests pressed together

Steve responded with another kiss; one hand was cupping Tony’s cheek while the other started to tug on his shirt. Tony huffed a laugh into their kiss before pulling away to strip out of his shirt. When he was done, Steve was right back on him. God, his husband was worse than any drug.

He had Tony’s pants pulled down to his mid-thighs when they heard the knock on their door. Both went still; their heavy breathing was impossible to stop completely. “I think that’s Peter,” Tony whispered.

“Unless you taught Sonno how to knock, I think so too,” Steve replied, frustrated that they had been interrupted.

“We can’t leave him out there,” Tony said, already starting to tug his pants back up.

“He’s a little shit! He can definitely hear us. He wants to interrupt us. Because apparently giving Pops blue balls is hilarious.”

Tony pressed his face into Steve’s neck to muffle his laughter. Steve rolled his eyes with a smile, but it disappeared the moment Peter knocked again. More panicked. Something wasn’t right--. Another knock.

Tony and Steve exchanged frowns. “It’s open!”

The door immediately opened, exposing Peter standing there in the doorway. He had Tony’s old blanket wrapped around his shoulders and Tessa in his arms. Something was definitely wrong.

Steve sat up straighter, any thoughts other than making sure his boy was okay were gone. “Hey, bud, you okay?”

Even in the dark, there was enough light from the hallway for them to clearly see the distress on his blotchy red face. His brown eyes were still glassy from some unshed tears. “Umm…I was wondering if we could come and squeeze in between you two…”

“Of course, baby-boy,” Tony said, moving over to make room for him.

Peter didn’t hesitate before hurrying inside the room. He lowered Tessa to the bed and she stayed close to his side as he climbed into bed. He crawled forward, hesitating before getting under the covers. “Are you sure?”

Steve rolled his eyes, patting the mattress next to them. “Get in here, squirt.”

Peter didn’t waste a second before he was under their comforter, pulling the blanket around him tighter. Tony ran his fingers through his hair, whispering softly. “Is Nonna’s blankie helping at all?” Peter nodded his head.

Tessa, seeing that there was someone looking out for her best friend, came over to Steve and started licking his face. Steve smiled and pet her carefully. “Yes, sweetie pie. You did a good job. Thank you for watching out for him. You’re such a good girl.”

She really was. When they had first gotten Tessa, he had known the pup was going to be great for Peter because she adored being held and cuddled, but he hadn’t known just how perfect she would be. She was exactly what Peter needed. She always knew when he needed someone here to ease his anxieties away. Steve was so grateful for her to watch out for him while he couldn’t.

She moved from Steve’s lap to crawl on top of Peter, finding her spot snuggling against his stomach. Steve moved in closer, looking at Tony and asked, “Dad sandwich?”

“Dad sandwich,” Tony confirmed, happily before wrapping his arms around Peter and Steve. Steve followed and squeezed them into a hug.

“I love my boys,” Steve said, pressing a kiss to Peter’s head.

“Love you more,” Peter whispered in a shaky voice.

“Oh, Pete,” Steve said. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Peter nodded, sticking his face in Tony’s chest. His shoulders started to shake and Tessa lifted her head to lick his face. She didn’t stop until Peter brought up a hand to pet her. “Thanks, princess,” he mumbled.

“Do you wanna tell us what happened?” Dad asked, continuing to card his fingers through Peter’s curls.

He quickly shook his head.

Steve and Tony looked at each other sadly. It was a bad night and all they could do was hold their boy tightly to chase his worries away. Peter had been through more shit than any other kid-- even adult that Steve knew. So, unfortunately, nights like these weren’t as rare as he’d like them to be.

“I’m sorry for bothering you--.”

“You didn’t bother us,” Steve reassured him, “Not a bit.”

“I can go--.” Peter actually went to get out of the bed, but both Steve and Tony held onto him even tighter.

“You’re not going anywhere, bambino.”

“Dad’s right. You’re stuck with us, bud.” Steve felt a small hand grab onto his and he saw Tony’s soft smile, knowing he felt it too. Steve held on tight. And he didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.

Buy me a coffee :) || ao3

[superextrafamily]

disney; space mountain

"There's no way you're making it across the park," Tony paused to check his watch, "in less than six minutes."

Six minutes meant park closing time. Park closing time meant that they didn't get to ride Space Mountain. Steve was not having that. "Kid, you ready to run?"

Despite it being almost one in the morning and having been on their feet since seven am, Peter was standing straight with a grin. "Ready when you are, Pops."

Steve crouched by his husband and said, "Come on, love. Hop on."

"I'm not riding Space--."

"I know, but you're coming with. Now hurry up, we're down to five minutes."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You two are ridiculous," he said before getting on Steve's back for a ride. Immediately, Steve started to run and Peter followed close behind.

They ran fast, careful not to knock down families in their way. They got a few "no running"s from cast members, but they only slowed down for a moment before picking up their pace again.

Their effort wasn't enough in the end, though. They reached the front gate to Space Mountain just as the clock struck one.

Tony patted Steve's arm. "Well, you both definitely tried."

Steve chuckled. "Oh, this isn't over yet." He turned to their son and said, "Pete, it's your time to shine. Remember exactly what we talked about."

"Got it!" He chirped and suddenly, his grin turned to a pout.

"Extend the lower lip a bit," Steve instructed. Peter listened. "Now widen the eyes-- perfect." He looked at the puppy dog look on Peter's face and was thankful not to be on the other end. "For once, I fully support this look."

They walked towards the entrance, only to be stopped by a cast member. "Sorry, boys, line closed at 12:59."

Steve didn't say a word and waited for Peter to take a step forward. "Please, ma'am. It's my first trip to Disney and I don't know when we'll be coming back. I just want to ride Space Mountain with my Pops."

The woman looked ready to still refuse him when Peter pulled out the final card.

"You wouldn't want to break my heart...would you?"

She sighed and took one more look at Peter before letting them through. "Fine...enjoy your ride. Have a magical night."

"Thank you so much!" Peter grinned before grabbing Steve's hand and dragging him inside.

"Knew they would work," Steve said.

"They always do," Peter said, running ahead through the tunnels.

Steve lowered his voice so only his husband could hear, "There's a last minute exit for you." He wasn't mocking him at all. He knew how Tony felt about space and he wasn't about to drag him on a ride centered around a crazy space mission. He was so worried that even the line queue was too much, but Tony seemed to be okay as Steve continued to hold him.

Tony kissed his cheek. "Thank you, vita mio."

"Always, dollface."

--

Tony was already waiting for them at the exit when Steve and Peter hopped into their spaceships. Steve sat just behind Peter and leaned forward to ruffle his hair.

Peter twisted around and smiled. "Hey, Pops."

"Hey, bud. Wanna play our game? See who puts their hands down first?" Steve raised his hands in the air.

Peter followed suit. "You're on!" He turned back around as they started to move. "Loser buys ice cream!"

Steve laughed as they started climbing the hill. He could see how pitch black it was already and the moment the ride started, they were being jerked around.

It was fun, but Steve was glad Tony decided to sit this one out. The way the ride was set up, it felt like you were inches from other ships and tracks. So, keeping his hands in the air was harder than normal. Not only did the ride make it physically difficult, but mentally, his body wanted to pull all of his limbs close.

Halfway through the ride, he can hear Peter screaming at him, "Pops! Lower your hands! Lower your hands!"

Steve laughed loudly. "I'm not falling for that one, you little shit!"

"Papa, please! Put them down!" Peter's voice sounded panicked; the kid was getting better at acting. Steve could see in front of him, but he assumed Peter still had his hands up high.

The rest of the ride went by too fast and before he knew it, they were pulling slowly to a stop. The moment they were back in light, Peter turned around to stare at Steve. His wide eyes shot up to his still raised hands.

"That's right, kiddo! I didn't lower them. So, I win!" He climbed out of the vehicle and held out his hand to help Peter out. Peter just stared at him and Steve realized something was wrong. He grabbed Peter by the arm gently and brought him to the side. Crouching to his level, Steve spoke softly, "Hey, squirt, you okay?"

Peter nodded his head, but he still looked scared. Maybe space wasn't a good thing for Peter either. "I'm fine."

"Peter."

He looked almost embarrassed as he admitted, "I thought-- you're tall and have long arms...I thought you'd lose them or something."

Steve blinked. "Wait. Like chopped off?"

Peter looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry-- it's stupid. I wasn't trying to get you to lose, I just...got worried."

Steve laughed, pulling Peter into a hug. "Oh, bud, I'm sorry. I thought you were tricking me."

Peter wrapped his arms around him. "Stop laughing at me."

"Nope." He pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Now, let's go see dad before he buys the entire gift shop."

Buy me a coffee :) || ao3

[superextrafamily]

disney; plane ride

“I can't believe we're going to Disney!” Peter said excitedly, jumping in front of his dads as they walked towards the private jet.

“Believe it, kiddo,” Pops chuckled behind him.

Peter turned around and ran back to them, who were only a few feet behind. “Pinch me,” he exclaimed, lifting his arm in Dad’s face. “This has to be a dream.”

“I'll pinch him,” Pops offered with a grin.

Dad rolled his eyes and said, “Be nice.” Then he turned to Peter. “It's real, Petey. No need for pinching.”

“Aww, Dad, you're no fun,” Pops whined teasingly. “Look at those cheeks-- so pinchable!”

Before Pops could touch his cheeks, Peter hurried back ahead of them. He wanted to be there now. But when he turned around and realized how close they were to the jet, he froze.

They caught up to him and Dad asked, “Are you sure you're okay with flying, bambino? We can drive. We don't mind the roadtrip.”

Memories of navigating a falling plane through the New York City sky and crashing to Coney Island filled his mind. He swallowed the fear and said, “N-no. This is fine. No point in making the trip down two days when it can be two hours.”

“It's no trouble, Pete,” Pops said. “I love road trips.”

Peter shook his head. He could do this. The trip to Italy was hours longer. This was nothing. And he had to start overcoming his fear at some point. “This is fine. I'll be fine.”

“Okay,” Dad said, not sounding convinced, “but the moment it gets too much, we'll land the plane and get a car to drive us the rest of the way.”

Peter didn't want to be that much of a burden-- they were already taking him to Disney World. He could survive a plane ride. “I'm fine, Dad.”

“And I came prepared!” Pops announced, holding up a backpack. “Lots of fun stuff to keep your mind off of it.”

His father having a bag of things to calm him down should have made him feel like a baby, but instead, it only brings comfort. “Thanks, Papa.”

“No problem, bud. Now let's go pick the best seat and get comfy.”

“Race you?” Peter asked, a smirk growing.

“Oh, you're on,” Pops said before taking off. Peter laughed, chasing after him.

Maybe, it was all gonna be alright.

--

45 minutes into the flight, they hit some turbulence.

Peter was pretty well distracted. He was squished on a seat with Pops as they worked on one of their puzzles. Dad was next to him, drawing shapes on his back soothingly.

The piece in Peter’s hand fell to the ground as the plane shook. He tried to stay calm-- they were safe. Dad assured him it was completely safe and he had his suit in case. They would be okay.

But his hands started to join the plane in shaking. Even after the worst of the bumps were gone, Peter still felt uneasy. His chest fell and rose rapidly.

“Hey, bud, it's okay.” Another piece was shoved into his hand. “Do you wanna help me find the spot where this goes?”

He looked at the piece in his hand and then back at Pops. “I-I don't know.”

“Well, that's alright. Neither do I. How about we look?” Pops rubbed his back before pointing to the small piece. “It's an end piece, right, so it's gotta go on the outside. And let's look at the picture on the box to see where it may fit.”

Dad pointed at the bottom. “It could be the sand right there. By the shark’s fin.”

Pops hummed, the feeling of his chest vibrating softly against his arm grounding him. Like a heartbeat. “I think Dad’s right. What do you say, little man?”

Peter nodded and brought the piece to where Dad suggested. His hands were shaking as he tried to line it up, but then Dad carded his fingers through his hair and started to play with his curls.

Between that and Pops sitting by his side, rubbing his back, Peter finally felt himself start to calm down. He was safe. As long as he was with his dads, he was safe.

[superextrafamily]

sick days

“‘m sorry,” Peter gasped, his voice sounding muffled since his face was practically inside the toilet.

Steve rubbed his back soothingly. “Don't apologize, kid. It's not your fault.” He winced as another round of retching started.

The kid had been complaining earlier about an upset stomach, but Tony and Steve both assumed he had gotten into one of his hidden stashes of Gushers. They realized that was it almost fifteen minutes ago when Peter first made a mad dash for the bathroom.

He had heard his kid getting sick and exchanged a look with Tony. His husband had shaken his head, claiming, “I don't do the dirty parts. But cuddles afterwards? I'm your guy.” He had even winked.

Steve hadn't hesitated before he rushed to Peter's side, immediately trying to soothe him.

He was still in the same spot with the hard tile making his knees ache a while later. “Get it all out, bud.” He rubbed his back, hoping it was doing something to help.

Peter heaved, doing exactly what Steve asked. He didn't stop until almost a minute later. He let out a choked off sob as he sagged against the toilet seat. He looked miserable as his eyes fluttered shut.

Steve leaned over his suffering kid to pull off a piece of toilet paper and wipe the sick off his chin. Peter scrunched his face and Steve shushed him softly. Then he used his thumb to wipe the tears off his wet cheeks.

“Hey, Pops…” Peter moaned.

“Hey, Pete,” Steve whispered back.

“Guess I can get sick, huh?” He tried to smile, but it didn't stay long before he was groaning in pain.

Steve winced sympathetically. “Guess so, but--.”

Peter cut him off with another round of vomiting. His white knuckles shook as he gripped the sides of the bowl. Steve had to pull him back up before he stuck his entire head inside as he threw up.

Steve hoped it ended soon. Not just because the smell was starting to burn his nostrils, but because this poor kid’s throat had to be burning and his stomach was probably aching. “You're such a trooper,” he praised as he rubbed Peter's back again.

“How's it going in there, you two?” Tony called, just outside the door.

Steve rolled his eyes as he brushed some sweaty curls off of Peter's forehead. “Just fine, love,” he answered.

“You got this, Petey!” Tony cheered him on.

“Dad’s an idiot,” Steve said, trying to get Peter to smile.

“I heard that!” Tony called back. “Just for that I'm getting the bed ready and you will not be invited to the cuddle party!”

Shaking his head, Steve turned his attention back to his son. He finally looked to be done with getting sick as he laid with his eyes shut against the seat. “All finished, kiddo?”

“Think so.”

Steve held his hand and gave it a small squeeze, promising, “I'll be right back,” before going to the sink and wetting a cloth with warm water and filling a paper cup with water. He kneeled back by Peter and started to wash his face.

“m’sorry,” Peter mumbled, choosing to stare at the floor rather than Steve.

“Why's that?” He asked, dragging the soft wash cloth over his chin.

“This is pretty gross. And now you're cleaning it off me.” He look embarrassed as he moved his cheek off the seat so Steve could clean it.

“That's what Pops are for,” Steve replied and actually found himself not caring that he had spent the past half hour cramped on the bathroom floor with his shivering son puking his guts out.

“Shouldn't hafta do this.” Peter sat up slowly, pausing to test his nausea probably before taking a dip of the water, gurgling it around his mouth and spitting it out. He took another small sip but swallowed it this time.

“Neither did my ma, but she was always there to peel me off the bathroom floor after hours of this.” Steve started to take Peter in his arms as he said so. “She helped her baby, so now it's my turn to help mine.”

Peter smiled weakly and so did Steve. He knew Peter loved when he or Tony referred to him as something as soft as their baby. Tony was more generous with the nicknames, but Steve waited until the perfect time to use a name that made Peter melt.

Kissing the top of his head, Steve assured him, “So, you don't have to worry, squirt. I don't mind.”

Peter stayed quiet, content to rest his head against Steve’s chest. He was careful not to jostle him too much as he walked them to Peter's room. He lowered him to his bed and crawled in next to him. Pulling the blanket around them, Steve pressed his lips against Peter's sweaty curls. “You comfy, baby bear?”

And there it was: the smile on Peter's face, his body relaxing and melting in Steve’s arms. If this could help him feel even a little better, then he was more than happy to pull out every name on his list.

“Mhm,” Peter nodded, snuggling closer. “But what about Dad? You know he won't be happy you're hogging all the cuddles.”

Steve pulled him closer. “Too bad. I cleaned up all the messy stuff, so I get first dibs.”

“Better not let him hear that,” Peter replied, his voice low with exhaustion.

“It'll be our secret,” Steve said, even though he knew Tony would come up looking for Peter soon and the moment he saw the two of them in bed, he'd squish his way on the the other side of Peter.

But until then, Steve was gonna take advantage of having Peter all to himself.

[superextrafamily]

Welcome!

If you found this account...welcome. it's not really meant for anyone but me and my rp family. We've done so many things and talked about the cutest moments that I just needed to write.

Fair warning: it's gonna be ooc. Why? Because these are out characters. We've developed them into something more over the last few months. The dynamics, the personalities...it's not going to be exact cookie cutter from the MCU.

Other than that...enjoy I guess!