#[ peter parker / visage. ] peter parker. if there's one thing you are. it's good. and anyone who has a problem with that can talk to me.

[khruseosold]

Tag drop: Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield’s rendition; Tom’ll get added in the future).

[websaunt]

TAG DUMP

[cherienymphe]

The Babysitter

Warnings: NON-CON, Dark!College!Peter, mentions of abuse/abusive relationships, slight age gap

!!! Please don’t read if any of this offends you !!! 

summary: You are Peter’s first and only love, and all he ever wanted was to show you how much better it could be.

~

Peter Parker was a sweet kid, always had been. Maybe referring to him as a kid was a bit dramatic of you considering you were only four years older than him. But you had met the sweet brown eyed boy when he was in fact a kid. Eleven to be exact.

You recalled the way his eyes had widened up at you when he opened the door, a flush climbing over his cheeks as he nervously stammered. There was a bit of a sparkle in his eyes, a dazed look that made you chuckle. However, that dazed look was gone the minute his aunt informed him that you were there to watch him.

“A babysitter?” he had scoffed, face even redder.

You remembered how he had pouted and complained as you sat your backpack down, but his aunt wouldn’t budge. It had taken him more than an hour to finally leave his room again, reluctantly joining you in the living room.

“Pizza?” you offered him.

He eyed it for a bit before accepting, a pout still on his face. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. The both of you just sat on the floor, watching tv and eating pizza as you waited for Ms. Parker, or May as she preferred, to come back.

“I’m too old for a babysitter,” he’d said after some time.

A slow smile crept over your lips, and you nodded in agreement.

“I think so too, but your aunt is just worried about you, is all.”

“I’m not a baby,” he protested, still refusing to look at you.

“Noo, but…what if something happened while you were here alone? What if you got hurt…and no one was around to call her?”

He was quiet for a minute before pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

“She just wants you to be okay, Peter,” you reasoned with him.

“So that’s why you’re here? To protect me?” he questioned, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You swallowed a chuckle but nodded anyway.

“Yeah, Peter. I’m here to look out for you. Just think of me like a guardian…”

“Like a knight,” he suddenly said, nodding.

“Exactly,” you replied, reaching for a piece of pizza.

The two of you didn’t talk much for the rest of the night, but when his aunt came back home, he looked sad to see you go. Many of the nights after went much like that one had, but eventually, he warmed up to the idea more and more.

He always opened the door for you seconds before you could even knock, like he was waiting for you. That flush hardly ever left his face, and you soon became used to the sight of his red visage whenever you were near. The nights you watched him became less quiet and more rowdy.

You’d spend hours arguing over cartoons and other meaningless stuff. It only got worse when he got his first video game, and the competitive side in both of you reared its ugly head. Eventually, you became less of a babysitter and something more like a friend.

He started to talk to you about school and how left out he felt sometimes. You didn’t like nights like those, because they always made you sad. Peter was a sweet kid. He was smart and funny, and you told him that, encouraging him to make friends with people who liked the same things he liked. You knew he was a bit nerdy, but so were you, and you’d been where he was once upon a time.

Time seemed to fly by, and it wasn’t long before your senior year of high school had come. Despite how hectic it was to prepare for graduation and everything, it never interfered with the nights you watched Peter. You supposed that it came at a good time, because he was going to be 14 soon, and May had already mentioned she felt he was long ready to be at home alone. Truth be told, you were surprised you’d held your job for as long as you had, but part of you knew why that was.

It was no secret that Peter had a crush on you. He always looked at you like you hung the moon and was constantly craving your approval on just about everything. He’d done a good job of keeping the heat off of his face whenever you were around, but sometimes it would slip through anyway. You would never embarrass him about it though. It was cute. After all, you could remember some of your own childhood crushes, and maybe one day Peter would look back on it laugh at the crush he’d had on his babysitter.

You’d never considered that it could be anything more. He was just a kid, after all.

“You’ll…you’ll still come see me, right?”

The both of you were sitting on the couch, a large pizza between the two of you. You’d ordered it, feeling nostalgic for the first night you’d come over. Tonight was your last night. You’d be graduating in 3 weeks and off to the local college about a month after that.

You looked at him, feeling your heart clench at the way he wouldn’t meet your eye, just like that first night 3 years ago. You ruffled his hair, and he grumbled, pushing your hand away.

“Of course, I will. I’m only going up the street, Peter,” you said, stuffing your face.

He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes focused on the tv.

“Yeah, but… You’ll make new friends. College friends…and…you’ll meet college guys and stuff,” he mumbled.

You eyed him.

“That may be, but if I’m being honest here, you’re practically my only friend,” you confessed.

He whipped his head around to face you, eyes wide.

“Really?”

You chuckled with a nod.

“Yup! They always told me I wouldn’t leave high school with the same friends I went into it with. I never thought they’d actually be right,” you sulked.

“…but you still have me.”

You grinned at him.

“Yeah, I still have you. Believe me, I am going to still come around because someone has to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

Peter rolled his eyes, tossing his crust back into the box.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “I don’t care what the reason is, as long as you don’t forget about me.”

“How could anyone forget Peter Parker? Don’t be silly,” you laughed.

He didn’t join you, and you looked at him curiously as he suddenly turned his body around to fully face you. You found yourself smiling at how much he’d grown in the past few years. He was going to start high school soon, and that made you feel so old despite the fact that you were only just leaving it.

He eyed you for a few moments, that same spark in his eyes that was there that first night he’d opened the door for you. He clenched his jaw, looking incredibly nervous before he took a deep breath.

“Y/N… Will…will you wait for me?”

You frowned in confusion, leaning your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your hand.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, looking down for a bit before meeting your gaze. His eyes were so serious, much too serious for a 14-year-old kid. Your frown deepened.

“I think that you are so pretty…”

Your heart sank, and you straightened, understanding dawning on you.

“Peter…”

“Not pretty! No, that’s…that’s too lame to describe you. Y/N, I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re so smart and funny and nice. You’re nice to everyone, even our downstairs neighbor who has never once said anything nice to you.”

You sighed, turning to face the tv.

“I know you think I’m just a kid-.”

“Peter, you are a kid.”

“Your 18th birthday was literally just last week,” he deadpanned.

“Shut up!”

“Y/N, please. Please! Just…promise me that you’ll wait for me,” he begged.

You looked at him, a frown on your face as you noticed the tears in his eyes.

“I know I’m just a kid, but eventually I won’t be. One day, I’ll be 18, then 19, 20, 21! One day I can give you everything you want, and I can make you happy and hold your hand-.”

“Peter,” you snapped.

“Y/N… Y/N, please. I love you…,” your stomach churned. “…so much. I know you don’t think anything of it, but I do. I love you, and… Promise me you’ll wait for me, and I’ll show you how much.”

You stared at him, unable to break from his pleading gaze. You had hoped this day would never come. You had hoped that his unspoken crush would remain just that. You’d never wanted to have this conversation, because you didn’t want to break his heart. And despite how much you should have in that moment, you didn’t. You weren’t going to hurt him.

You were sure that his feelings were fleeting, and that in 5 years’ time or so, he’d forget all about this. He’d look back on this moment with embarrassment, and you’d both be able to laugh about it. High school was four years, and a lot happens in those four years. You were positive that he’d move on, and that was the only reason you said;

“Okay.

 ~

“Y/N! Y/N wait!”

You ignored him, picking up your pace as you wiped the tears from your face. You winced as your hand brushed over your cheek, fingers trembling as you reached into your pocket for your keys.

“Y/N, stop!”

He grabbed your arm, harshly, and yanked you to a halt. You cried out, stumbling away from him as you ripped your arm out of his grip. You faced him, eyes hard with anger.

“For what? What could we possibly have to talk about, Chris?” you sarcastically questioned, throwing your hands up.

He glanced around as a few people stumbled out of the house, loud music briefly reaching your ears before it was muffled again. You crossed your arms over your chest as they walked past the two of you, glaring at the dark-haired man before you.

He suddenly sighed, looking a bit conflicted as he bit his lip. He hesitantly reached out towards you, taking a step forward.

“Y/N…it was an accident. I would never-.”

“It wasn’t an accident, and we both know it. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore, Chris. I just can’t,” you replied with a shrug.

He clenched his jaw, eyes darkening a bit as he took in your words.

“What the hell does that mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

“I didn’t think it needed to be said considering not five minutes ago you were slapping me like you were getting paid for it,” you snapped.

He glanced down, eyebrows furrowed.

“I said I was sorry.”

“…and I don’t care. You have a problem with my family, my friends, my clothes, my hair! You’re never satisfied unless I’m doing exactly what you want me to do, and now, I can’t even leave your side for 5 minutes to get a drink without you thinking I ran off to go fuck some random guy?”

He swallowed, and you shook your head at him.

“I’m sorry, okay? I get…I just get insecure sometimes,” was his weak defense.

You scoffed, a tear skipping down your cheek as you eyed him.

“You get insecure? So you hit me? Is that what you’re going to do every time you feel a little insecure?”

“No! I told you, it was an-!”

“I don’t care what it was, Chris. This is it. This is the last straw. I’ve put up with this for too long, and I will not be with a man that slaps me around just because his feelings are hurt. Get a therapist,” you sneered, turning away from him.

You yelped when he grabbed you again, yanking you to him. You reached out to hit him with your free hand, but he gripped your wrist, holding you to him.

“Y/N, please, lets just talk about this,” he begged.

“Let go of me,” you demanded.

He ignored you, instead shaking you a bit as he pleaded his case.

“Y/N, listen to me!”

“Stop-!”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when a fist came out of nowhere, getting Chris clean in the jaw. He was hit hard enough to collapse, and he gripped his face with a loud groan. You stumbled back, but a hand on the small of your back stopped you.

Grateful, you looked up, ready to thank your savior when you paused. Your gaze connected with that of familiar brown eyes, equally brown hair pushed away from a familiar face. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes widened, shock hitting you square in the chest.

“Peter,” you breathed.

He glanced at your ex-boyfriend who was clutching his face before gently grabbing your hand and leading you away.

“Peter, wh-what are you doing here?” you asked as you followed along in a daze.

“Um… Ned wanted to come check out this party he’d heard about,” he replied.

You stopped walking, and he did too, facing you as you eyed him.

“So you and Ned are still friends. I’m happy to hear that. It’s not like I would have had any other way of knowing…”

Your tone was a bit accusatory and Peter at least had the gall to look ashamed.

You hadn’t seen nor heard from Peter in over a year. You still talked to May occasionally, but never a word from Peter. It was so strange. You and him kept in touch somewhat regularly since you had graduated. The two of you weren’t exactly BFFS or anything, especially since you both made new friends as you each started the new phase in your lives, but one day, a year ago, it just stopped.

Your texts asking him how he was went unanswered. You wanted to know if he was excited for college and if he was sad to leave high school, but you never found out. You weren’t even invited to his graduation, something that had struck a nerve. After all, you babysat him for years, and as old as it was going to make you feel, you still wanted to see him graduate. It was a huge accomplishment that you wanted to witness.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said.

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Are you?” you genuinely asked.

He straightened, eyes widening as he blinked at you.

“Yes! I’m…so sorry, Y/N. Things just got crazy and different and I just had a lot to deal with.”

Your brows creased as you could visibly see the stress along his features. He suddenly looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. You started to grow worried.

“Is everything okay? May?”

“No, yeah, aunt May is fine. Everything’s fine, now,” he replied, scratching the back of his head.

You nodded.

“That’s good to hear.”

You had only gone a year without seeing him, but he looked so different. His jaw seemed to be taut with tension, and there was a crease in his forehead that hadn’t left since you’d seen him. He was dressed plainly in a dark grey t-shirt and dark jeans. He had gotten a bit taller, and you blinked in surprise. The last time you saw him, he was already a bit taller than you, but now he was even more so. You suddenly remembered your manners.

“Thank you, by the way,” you said.

He eyed you, suddenly very serious as he crossed his own arms over his chest. The t-shirt he wore stretched over his muscles as he did so.

“Who was that jerk?”

You sighed, glancing away.

“My ex-boyfriend,” you confessed.

His eyes darkened, and he glared over your shoulder.

“What were you guys fighting about?”

You opened your mouth to answer before thinking better of it.

“It was nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing,” he argued, eyeing you.

You heaved another sigh, turning your face away as you refused to tell him the truth. You realized your mistake when you heard his sharp intake of breath. His hands gripped your chin and face before you could do anything, a slight gasp escaping him.

“Your cheek is swelling,” he said, worry and wonder in his voice.

You pulled away from him, briefly closing your eyes.

“Peter…”

“Did he do that?” he asked, disbelief and outrage coloring his tone.

“Peter, he’s my ex now, okay? It’s not going to happen again,” you said, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

You had never seen him look like that in all the time you’d known him. Sure, he got mad sometimes, especially when things didn’t go like he expected them to, but now he looked angry enough to kill. His hands were clenched into fists, face tense with rage. A wild look was in his eyes.

“Peter, I’m okay,” you said, stepping towards him.

“I should have punched him again,” he spat.

“I’m not going to argue with that, but please don’t. I’ve had enough violence for one night, and I just want to go home-.”

“I’m coming with you.”

You paused, blinking up at him.

“What? Peter, no. You came with friends. Go have fun with them, don’t worry about me,” you replied.

He shook his head, grabbing your keys out of your hand.

“No, I’m going with you. You need to put something on your face,” he disputed.

You opened your mouth to argue but decided to pick your battles. With a nod, you led him towards your car. You didn’t have a chance to say anything before he was sliding behind the wheel. To be honest, you were emotionally exhausted for the night and was quite relieved to relax in the passenger seat. You didn’t even know Peter knew how to drive, now, and your heart clenched as you felt like you had missed so much despite only missing a year.

You laid your head against the rest as Peter pulled away from the noisy house, listening to your directions instead.

 ~

“You…kind of have the worst taste in men,” he sheepishly said.

You gasped, mouth falling open in shock and mock outrage as he held a freezing bag of peas to your face.

“Are you seriously blaming me, right now?”

He spluttered, a flush taking over his face as he rushed to correct himself.

“No, no! Of course not. I’m just saying… You know how you are,” he added.

You frowned at him, narrowing your eyes a bit.

“No, how am I?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Remember that asshole you dated your freshman year of college? Or that jerk way back in your junior year of high school?”

You did actually. You’d ended up crying all night on May’s couch when you should have been watching Peter because Dylan had dumped you for some more popular girl. Peter, in all his chivalry, had let you have the rest of the pizza while he listened to you cry your heart out. You didn’t even want to talk about Nate.

You’d brought him over to May’s one day when you went to visit her and Peter after being in school for a few months. Peter hated him from the first moment they’d met. You remembered how angry you were that Peter was acting like such a kid and embarrassing you in front of Nate. You’d even said some pretty harsh words to him, something you apologized for when Nate inevitably showed his true colors.

“How could I forget,” you quietly mused.

Maybe Peter had a point. Looking back, the guys you’d dated had shown red flags from the start, all of which you had ignored. Even tonight shouldn’t have come as a shock to you. Chris was always so jealous and irrationally angry over the smallest of things. You should have left the minute he started telling you to stop visiting your family so much.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Peter apologized. “None of this is your fault.”

“No, I’m glad you said it, Peter. You’re not entirely wrong,” you sighed. “I see the signs and I just…ignore them.”

Peter didn’t respond, instead running his eyes over you as he shifted the frozen vegetables. He swallowed, suddenly stepping back.

“What did you see in any of them?” he quietly asked, almost desperately.

“To be honest… I don’t know,” you responded with a shrug.

Peter sighed before setting the cold bag on the counter behind you, resting his hand there.

“Is it…because they’re older? Or even just your age?”

You frowned in confusion, tilting your head at him.

“I’m sure that’s not it. What makes you think that?”

He stepped away from you, shoulders tense as he turned around and stared into your living room.

“I stopped talking to you a year ago because…because I was trying to move on. I was tying to forget you,” he quietly admitted.

Your frown deepened, a dreaded feeling take hold in your stomach.

“What?”

He turned around, dark eyes troubled.

“I was trying to forget you. You were enjoying college and new friends and new boyfriends, and I got tired of trying to show you that I was becoming someone you could be with. I thought that maybe you deserved better and someone who could relate to you more, but then…”

He released a shaky breath, face hardening as he stared past you.

“Then I saw you tonight…with him. He was hurting you, and you were screaming, and I wanted to hurt him like he was hurting you.”

“Peter…”

Just like that last night, a realization was coming to you, and you didn’t like it. His eyes softened as he looked at you.

“Do you remember…”

“Peter, don’t.”

“…when you said you’d wait for me?”

You scoffed in disbelief, pushing away from the counter to walk around it, leaning against your stove as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Peter, that was years ago! I… I just didn’t want to hurt you,” you confessed.

His face fell a bit, and you felt like you were going to be sick. You had never wanted to hurt him. Everything that you had done was to prevent that. You thought he would have forgotten.

“You only said that to spare my feelings?”

“I thought you’d move on!”

“I tried!”

You pressed your back into the metal behind you, eyeing him as his eyes glistened. Desperation took over his features, and his lips trembled.

“I tried so hard, but… I love you.”

“Peter, no-.”

“I have been in love with you for years. I thought I could forget, but I can’t. I wanted you to live your life, but tonight just proved to me that I should have never tried to let you go. I should have been by your side as soon as I graduated. Tonight never would have happened if I had been,” he ranted.

“Peter-.”

“I can protect you, now. I mean…I could have protected you for years, but now I have the freedom to actually do that.”

“Peter, you don’t have to do that,” you argued. “That isn’t your job.”

He licked his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Do you remember that first night you came over…and you said that you were just there to look out for me? To protect me, like a guardian?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Well, now it can be my turn.”

“Peter, no! Okay?”

You felt like a broken record. He walked towards you, face determined.

“You don’t know the things I can do, Y/N. I can look out for you better than any of those other guys out there! I know you think I’m being silly and that I’m just oh so young-!”

“You are!”

“I’m 20, Y/N! 20! That’s 4 years younger than you! You have friends that are 20,” he desperately argued, eyes wide.

“That’s different!”

“How?”

“…b-because,” you lamely replied.

“I’m not good enough to be with you?”

“Peter…you’re just… You’re so young. No, four years isn’t a big deal, but I babysat you. I watched you grow up with me, and we’re at such different stages in our lives. We want different things-.”

“I want you,” Peter tearfully interrupted.

You swallowed.

“…and I want you to want someone else,” you quietly said.

“That’ll never happen,” he whispered.

“Peter, please,” you tried to reason with him.

He took another step towards you.

“I can make you so happy. Y/N, I can give you so much, you have no idea. You don’t know who I am, now or what I can do or what I can give you. Just give me a chance,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Peter, please leave.”

He paused, face crushed as you held his gaze. You wanted to look away, but you had to stand your ground if you ever wanted to get through to him. He suddenly exhaled, a newfound determination seeping into his features.

You gasped into his mouth as he pressed his lips against yours, hands holding you close as he pinned you in between him and the counter. You pushed against his hard chest, but he didn’t budge, and you whimpered against his lips. One of his hands found your hair while the other found your waist.

“Peter, Peter, stop,” you gasped.

He didn’t listen, both hands pressed onto the counter, now, keeping you trapped. You squirmed against him, and he groaned into your mouth. With reluctance, you bit his lip, and he pulled away with a pained gasp.

His wild eyes met your terrified ones, and his face softened. He reached up to brush his fingers over his bleeding lip, and you swallowed.

“Go. Please, just go, Peter,” you quietly forced out.

He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it before listening to you. You let the tears fall as the door slammed shut behind him.

~ 

“No, um… I haven’t seen him since then,” you worriedly replied.

“Okay. If you hear from him, you’ll call me?”

“Of course, May. I’ll definitely call.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh, worry coursing through your veins. It had been weeks since that night you’d ran into Peter, and apparently, he hadn’t been in contact with anyone since. Guilt consumed you as you felt like this had something to do with you.

You called the number that you hadn’t dialed in over a year with no answer. You texted him, telling him that he should at least check in with his aunt. If anything happened to him, you didn’t know what you’d do.

You should have never given him hope that you two could be anything more. You should have broken his heart that night 6 years ago. It was silly of you to think that you could ever avoid doing such a thing. It was inevitable.

You rose from your bed, heading towards your bathroom to go shower when you heard a noise from your window. You’d only just turned around when something was over your mouth. You reached up in shock and touched what felt like…webbing? Your hands were bound together soon enough, and your legs followed. With a muffle scream, you fell over only to land in strong arms.

Your wide eyes focused on Peter as he held you, and you were powerless to stop him as he raised his hand, pressing a white cloth over your nose. You didn’t even remember closing your eyes.

 ~

“Have you lost your mind?” a somewhat familiar voice screamed.

You didn’t know how you knew that voice.

“Mr. Stark, please! Don’t-don’t freak out, okay?”

Stark. Tony Stark. That was how you knew that voice. You’d heard it on tv during press conferences and such plenty of times.

“Am I hearing this right? You kidnapped a woman, and now you want to keep her here?”

“You don’t understand, Mr. Stark…”

Peter’s voice lowered, and you suddenly realized you were lying on a bed. Your hands and legs were still bound with…whatever, and your head was pounding. You didn’t recognize the dimly lit room, and you struggled to sit up. Their voices were still lowered, and you started to wonder where you were.

You tried to sort everything out in your mind, struggling to come to grips with the fact that Peter had kidnapped you. And that wherever you were, it was far if Tony Stark was in the building too. That brought you to a question as to how Peter even knew Tony Stark.

You didn’t have time to ponder that much before the door opened and Peter filled the entryway. Your eyes widened, and you shuffled back on the bed as he closed the door and approached you. His steps were slow and cautious as if you were the one mostly likely to attack. His expression suddenly softened, eyes apologetic, and you realized that you were crying.

His hands were outstretched in a surrendering way before he slowly used one hand to get whatever it was off of your mouth. A sob escaped you, and he gently shushed you, framing your face with his hands.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, slowly sitting down in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry. Peter, I’m sorry. Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone,” you tearfully pleaded.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, shaking his head. “I would never hurt you.”

“You…you attacked me,” you replied, voice filled with confusion and fear.

He looked down.

“No! No, not…not really. I just need time. We need time for you to understand,” he argued.

You shook your head in confusion.

“It’s my turn to look out for you, now, and I can. I’ll tell you everything eventually, when you’re ready, but right now…”

He settled his hands on your shoulders, massaging them.

“Right now, I want to show you how much I love you. I want to prove to you that I can be everything you want, and I can give you everything you want,” he continued.

“Peter, I don’t want you! You’re my friend,” you sobbed.

He pursed his lips, a frown overtaking his features. He suddenly exhaled, shaking his head.

“I can be more than that. Let me show you…”

You cried harder when he started pushing you back. Your chest heaved, and you were practically inconsolable as he climbed over you. He freed your legs, but they were of no use to you as he easily pinned them down while he undressed you. He ignored your pleas, tearing your shirt and bra straight down the middle before tearing them off of your arms.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his own taking you in, heat and humiliation flooding through you. He was quiet for a long time as he ran his fingers over your bare skin, and you shuddered when you felt him press a kiss to your chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin.

You kept your eyes closed as he ghosted kisses over you, taking his time to kiss every inch of you that he could. His touch was light and soft, so different from anything else you’d ever felt. He touched you like you were made of glass, like he was afraid you’d shatter with one wrong move.

You resisted when he parted your legs, but one hard squeeze on your ankle had you freezing. Your eyes flew open of their own accord when his lips latched onto you, tongue delving inside of your core as he coaxed an involuntary whimper from you. None of your boyfriends had ever returned the favor when you went down on them, and you had convinced yourself that it wasn’t a big deal.

You’d never felt someone else’s lips on you so intimately before, and you couldn’t stop your intense reaction. Fire bloomed in your stomach, and you couldn’t contain the moans that left you as you experienced the new sensation. You felt like you were floating, and you had to remind yourself that you didn’t want this, that your hands were currently bound together to keep you from fighting this like you wanted.

Peter pulled away before you fell over the edge, and you pleaded with him again as he climbed over you, now undressed. His eyes were swimming with determination as he brushed his hand over your cheek, eyeing the place where Chris had hit you weeks ago. He pressed his lips there, breath shaky.

“I’ve dreamed about this day for so long,” he whispered.

“Peter…if you love me…you won’t do this,” you breathed.

He reached between the two of you, trailing his lips over your face before finally pressing them to your lips. He kissed you fiercely, putting so much emotion into it that you found yourself cringing away from the intensity.

“I’m doing this because I love you, and because I want you to know that you deserve the best,” he murmured into your mouth.

One hand was beside your head, pressing into the bed.

“…and that’s me.”

You gasped when he entered you, fingers grazing his stomach as he set a slow pace. You blinked, mouth parted as tears sprang to your eyes. His hips were moving so slowly and so intensely against your own. You could feel every curve and ridge of him, and it awoke pleasure in you that you didn’t know existed. You turned your face away in an attempt to ignore what you were feeling, but it was no use.

Soft grunts escaped his lips, and he used one hand to gently grip your face, turning you to look at him. His brown eyes never left yours, dark hair brushing along his forehead as his skin started to glisten with sweat. His arm flexed, hand clenching the sheets beside your head as he bit his lip, never taking his eyes off of you.

You couldn’t keep the pleasure off of your face. You’d never felt this before. He was so soft with you, gentle in a way you’d never experienced. His touches were feather light, and he watched you like he was looking for the first sign of pain, of discomfort. It made you feel…good…loved, and you didn’t like it.

With a grunt, you struggled against your bonds. More tears escaped, and he wiped them away.

“Hey, hey…”

You shook your head.

“Peter…stop...please,” you gasped, stomach tightening.

“You don’t want me to,” he quietly refuted.

“Yes-.”

“I can feel that you don’t. You’ve been clenching around me, like you don’t want me to go,” he murmured.

More tears escaped, and your breath hitched when he slowed down even more.

“No, no, I don’t like this,” you argued.

But deep down, you did.

“You do! You know you do-.”

“No!”

“Let yourself be loved, Y/N. You’ve never been held right…treated right…touched right. But I’m here, now,” he groaned, brushing his lips over your neck.

Your nails dug into his stomach as you clenched around him, a coil building low in your own. You arched against him, and he bent down to wrap his lips around one exposed bud, teeth grazing your skin. He rested himself fully against you as one hand gripped your hair while the other dug into your hip.

“All I ever wanted was to show you that I can be the man you want,” he panted.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, now, teeth nipping at your skin every once in a while. You felt a dampness there, and when he sat up, you noticed that a few tears had escaped his eyes.

“I love you so much,” he breathed.

“Peter,” you protested as you felt that coil tightening some more.

One hand slid to the small of your back, and he held you against him. He pressed his lips against yours before murmuring:

“Come with me.”

And you did.

You gasped into his mouth as you spasmed around him, legs trembling and shaking like they never had before. His hands and mouth never left you, and you didn’t even realize when your hands were suddenly free, nor when they held onto him. Your bodies were slick with sweat, and as he talked you through it, you didn’t know if your tears were from fear or the overwhelming onslaught of emotion that came with this newfound feeling.

This feeling of being loved.

 ~

tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ @xoxabs88xox​ @darkficreposter​ @sebabestianstan101​ @girlingreen​ @villanellevi​ @harringtonsblackgf​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @mcudarklibrary​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @readermia​

[allegra-writes]

"Fine line" part I

Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent! Reader x Harry Osborn

Teen and Up

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Part of the "Fine Line" series. Welcome to the endgame.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

He had never seen you fight before. It was stupid of him, and potentially dangerous, to stop and think about something like that in the middle of a freaking battle, but he just couldn't help it. You were graceful, deadly. You and Kate Bishop moving together like a well oiled machine. Strike team Delta, Fury's pride. A blur of perfectly shot arrows and high kicks. 

But not even you were enough to stop the giant monstrosity in its path of destruction, not even him was. And it had hostages now. 

"Six!"

"I know K, I'm seeing it!"

"I'm on it guys!" Peter called back as he swung by you like a red and blue meteor, following the greenish abomination currently climbing up the side of a skyscraper, carrying a sports car on his free hand as effortlessly as if it was a toy. 

"One little question though" He switched to coms, "What the hell is that thing??"

"That thing" You explained, "is Norman Osborn…"

Peter's hand slipped, sending him flying face first into the building wall,

"Say what?!" 

"We'll fill you up later, Spidey" Kate quipped, "For now, would you mind giving us a hand before King-kong over there kills anyone? I don't trust his butter fingers not to drop that Audi"

"Yes, ma'am" You could hear Peter's smile in his voice, "S.H.I.E.L.D girls are so bossy"

"Well, we are your superiors..." You noted, finally arriving at the entrance of the building when he was already halfway to the top. 

"Ugh, I hate it when you pull rank on me" He groaned, swerving to dodge the shards of broken glass raining upon him.

You snorted, 

"No you don't"

"No, I don't" He admitted, "Kinda turns me on"

"Ew! Guys, I can hear you" Kate catched up to you, shooting an arrow hooked to a line around her belt. Peter wasn't surprised to see it hit its mark flawlessly on a ledge above his head, "Hi, hot stuff, need a ride?" 

You rolled your eyes, but wrapped your arms around her shoulders nonetheless, holding on tight. 

"Hey!" Peter protested, mid swing, "No flirting with my girl!"

"I saw her first!" Kate released the latch, and soon you both were ascending at breakneck speed, easily surpassing Peter, "Race you to the top, Spidey!" 

His laughter resonated through the coms, as he sped up to follow you, guns blazing into the battle.

…

There was no laughter anymore. The friendly banter and quick comebacks had died long ago, the second you had realized it was a trap. The goblin creature was far more intelligent than you were led to believe, having set the ploy from the very beginning, his seemingly driftless rampage through the city, not so random after all. 

And far more psychotic, as you had learnt when he tore open the car in his hands to reveal the terrified blond man inside. 

"HARRY!"

Peter's horrified scream matched your own.

"Well well well, it seems you awake quite the loyalty" a massive hand closed around Harry's torso, his indigo orbs finding yours across the rooftop "for such a pathetic little worm"

"Let him go, Goblin" Kate's tone was placating, almost gentle, "you don't know what you're doing…"

The creature laughed,

"That's what you think? What your imbecilic little investigation concluded?" Kate and you exchanged a look. Of course. Your investigation about the Green Goblin and other Oscorp shady experiments relied heavily on Norman Osborn personal files. The thought of the passionate scientist, who valued his work more than his own son, lying in his own research had never even crossed your minds. He had played you like a fiddle, misled you every step of the way, and you had bought right into it.

"I worked with S.H.I.E.L.D longer than you had been alive, and Fury thinks he can sic you after me? Two little girls playing spy and my own creation??" Harry looked about ready to pass out as the Goblin waved him around, gesticulating with his hands as he spoke.

Through the corner of his eye, Peter caught a glimpse of Kate inching closer to the beast, and was only half interested when he inquired,

"What do you mean your creation?"

"Everything special about you," The Goblin's deformed visage twisted in what Peter assumed was supposed to be a smirk, "came from one of my labs!"

"That might be true, you might have involuntarily given me my powers, but you didn't make me Spider-man" Peter countered, "Mister Stark gave me the suit, and showed me what it meant to be a hero, and I loved him and admire him more than you will ever be able to understand, but he didn't make me Spider-man either. 

I choose to be Spider-man, every day. I created myself, cause it isn't who we were made to be that makes us who we are. Our choices make us who we are! You might have the powers and appearance of a monster, but you don't have to be one!"

"If you really think that, you are even more stupid than I thought, Peter Parker"

"Pe-peter?" Harry gasped through the creatures crushing grasp around his torso. Peter hesitated for a second, before taking his mask off. 

"Yeah, it's me, buddy" He admitted, watching his friend's eyes go wide, "It's going to be ok, Haz. We'll get you out of this, I promise…"

Famous last words. Peter should have known better by then than to jinx things like that. Because not two minutes later, he was seeing Kate's little ambush fail, the creature's tail whipping around with enough force to send her flying against a wall and knock her out, Peter's own kick just a little too slow to stop the Goblin from grabbing you in his free hand.

"Wings? It has fucking wings??" Peter cursed under his breath, scrambling to follow the monster as he flapped his enormous, membranous wings, soaring across the city. But the creature had no intention of going too far.

"You say our choices make us who we are, very well" The Goblin challenged him, hovering above 700 feet of empty air, and Peter's heart stopped. "Let's see what yours are. What is it going to be, your friend… or your lover?" 

"Don't do it, Goblin!" He yelled, standing on a ledge, ready to pounce, when he saw it. Or rather, saw her, purple hair blowing in the wind, standing on the air, a little lower and further behind from the Goblin, one palm pointed down, creating some sort of sonic wave that kept her up. She signaled a series of orders with her free hand, and Peter nodded almost imperceptibly, but enough for you to realize something was happening. You twisted in the Goblins grip to see what was going on at your back. Oh, fuck.

"Make your choice, Peter. Now!" 

Norman Osborn let go of you and Harry at the same time, leaving you to watch your boyfriend dive for your ex. But you weren't falling, you were floating, cushioned by a column of vibrating air. 

"Don't worry, rookie," You heard an annoyingly familiar voice say, "big sis is here…"

Great. You were never going to live this down, now. 

Meanwhile, Peter had problems of his own, the momentum the Goblin had thrown his own son away making it difficult for him to catch Harry on time.

And even after he had the other man safe in his arms, he wouldn't stop squirming, fighting in his hold. 

"Noooo! Go after her! Save her!!"

Peter managed to land the both of them in a terrace, 

"She's ok! She's fine, see? She's got this! She's got this…" Peter finally released Harry, pointing up to the place where you still were hovering in the air with that other agent. 

"She… she's… flying?" 

"I think that is actually the other one's making…" Peter shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. Harry started pacing back and forth, obviously overwhelmed, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

"And you're Spider-man…" he turned to Peter, who nodded. "And that thing… what the fuck was that thing?" 

Peter hesitated,

"Apparently, a crazy scientist" he finally decided on a half truth.

"A crazy… Mate, what even is your life?"

"Honestly? I've been asking myself that same question for years…"

Harry barked out a watery, hysterical laugh. He wanted to punch the shorter guy, he wanted to throw himself at his feet and thank him for saving his life. To apologize for all the drunken midnight calls, and also stab him in his boyishly handsome face for being so fucking noble and heroic and brave and impossibly perfect and for stealing his girl. 

He clutched as his chest, the burn almost making him double over in pain, and he realized he was hyperventilating.

"Harry, Harry, look at me. Look at me! Do you feel my chest? Can you feel my chest under your hand?" 

Harry noticed then that Peter was pressing his open palm, splayed against the spider logo on his own chest. He nodded his affirmation.

"Good, feel how it moves? Breath with me" Peter ordered, "inhale…" 

Harry breathed in, in time with his friend's expanding chest.

"Now exhale" 

Harry let go of his breath.

"That's right, you're doing so great" Peter's praise warmed up something inside his gut. "Inhale…" and Harry did, catching a faint whiff of your perfume. Peter smelled like you, the realization making him notice just how close to each other they were, only inches apart. And he wondered idly if that was the view you were used to, the one you favored over everything else: warm brown eyes, staring into your soul, right before leaning in. He wondered if you appreciated those hard, muscular shoulders under your hands, before pulling him close. He wondered if Peter's lips still tasted like you.

And before he knew it, Peter found himself with Harry's mouth crashing on his.

He knew he should stop it, step away, but he was rooted to the spot, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of sensations. It was different from kissing a girl. Hard planes where he was used to soft curves. The tickle of scruff, and slightly chapped lips where he was used to your strawberry sweet lipstick. But as Harry's tongue licked his bottom lip, begging for entrance, Peter couldn't help but open up to him, to surrender to him, as his tongue conquered every inch of Peter's mouth, a greddy, hungry victor. 

"I hate you so much" Harry breathed against Peter's mouth, even as his big hands came to frame the brunet's face, the metal of his finger rings cool against Peter's cheeks

"Doesn't feel like hate…" He quipped, before scraping his teeth against Harry's lips, tearing a moan out of him.

"No, it doesn't" the taller boy admitted, pushing one thigh between Peter's, gasping as he felt one of the hero's hands coming to rest against his lower back, pressing him closer. 

"You taste like cigarettes" Peter marveled, for some reason finding the bittersweet taste delicious. 

"And you taste like her" Harry replied, diving in again.

Peter froze. Her. You. His girlfriend. 

"Harry… Harry stop" Peter muttered, between nibbles "we need to stop. This is wrong"

"Feels right" The heir protested, teeth latching onto Peter's lower lip to stop him from pulling away. Peter groaned, but managed to break the kiss anyway. 

"It's not. We can't do this to her." 

Harry sighed, resting his forehead against Peter's, still reluctant to let go completely,

"I know…" he admitted. 

They stood like that for a few moments, willing breathings to calm, and hearts to slow down.

"You should go" Harry spoke finally, taking a step back, Peter immediately missing the warmth of his body in his arms. He wanted to say something, anything, to chase away the heartbreak, the loneliness in those pale blue eyes, but he couldn't. The knot in his own throat would not allow it. 

So he just stepped away, slipping his mask on, and jumped. He caught a glimpse of Harry's teary, red face, sticking out from the balcony to watch him go, before shooting off a web and swinging away, back to the skyscraper where Kate had fallen. Because if he knew you at all, that was exactly where you were going to be, taking care of your best friend.

…

"...I'm telling you, I had everything under control!"

"Is that why you were hanging 700 feet in the air?" The purple haired girl argued, crossing her arms over her chest, "Admit it, rookie, you're lucky I arrived just in time to save your ass. Again."

You were fuming, face flushed and eyes bright, and Peter found himself struck yet again by how gorgeous you were. A pang of guilt stabbed his stomach. 

"I didn't ask you too" You replied, petulantly, "and stop calling me 'rookie', I'm a level 9 agent."

"... I'm still higher than you"

"For one level!" You cried in frustration, "One single fucking level!"

"Would you two shut up?" Kate stumbled up, and Peter broke free from his haze to hurry and wrap a stabilizing arm around her shoulders, "You're giving me a headache"

"Yeah, that would be the concussion," purple quipped, "don't worry, Simmons should be here any minute to take a look at that"

"Yay, finally a sane person to talk to" Kate deadpanned. Purple ignored her.

"And you must be the boyfriend…" She singsonged, nudging you with her shoulder, "He's cute under the mask, how did you managed to get him to go out with you?" 

"Hey!" Peter and you exclaimed indignantly, in unison. 

"I'm kidding, jeez!" She raised her hands in surrender. "Come on, won't you introduce us?" 

You rolled your eyes, but complied anyway,

"Daisy, this is Peter Parker. Peter, this is Daisy Johnson, weirdo fancies herself my sister"

"Ooh, 'fancies'! You've spent way too much time with that brit boy, didn't you?"

"Daisy, I swear to god I will-"

"You need to tell her" Kate whispered, taking advantage of your distraction.

"Wh-what?"

She scoffed, Kate had never had much patience for anyone's bullshit.

"About what just happened with Harry. She will understand, Peter, I promise. But only if she hears it from you"

"H-how do you know?"

"I see better from afar" The archer smirked, before returning her attention to you and, apparently, your sister.

"Are they always like that?" Peter whispered, a little alarmed. Kate snorted,

"Just wait till you meet the rest of her old team…"  

"Yeah, what do you say, boyfriend?" Daisy smirked, mischievous glimmer in her eyes so much like yours, "Ready to meet the family?" 

Peter gulped, he really wasn't. 

To be continued...

[itsallavengers]

Like A Goddamn Teen Romcom

I wrote the first chapter of my HarleyPeter fic!!! Contains: An abundance of tired dad! Tony, a pair of awkward 17 year old boys, and some serious self confidence issues. Teen Romance really do Be Like That

“Red.”

“No.”

“Blue.”

“Nope.”

“Uhh, we’re running outta colours here. Green?”

At the breakfast table, Tony sighed loudly. “Pete, I want to dye my hair to piss Pepper off, not turn myself into walking radioactive waste. Not green.”

Peter threw up his hands. “What’s wrong with red! It’s cool, it’ll match your suit, and it’ll probably drive Miss Potts insane.”

“I’d need to dye my hair blonde before it went red, d’you know how bad that would be for it? I don’t want to destroy my follicles. They delicate things and my stylist will rip my head off entirely if I tamper with them.”

With a sigh, Peter raised the cup of coffee to his lips and took a large sip. It was common knowledge that Tony wasn’t particularly coherent before 11am and two double espressos, but Peter really hoped that Tony wouldn’t actually end up dying his hair. As amusing as that would be, Miss Potts would absolutely skin him alive, and Peter kind of liked having Iron Man around on hand to help him fight crime sometimes.

He was at the tower early on a Saturday for one reason and one reason alone: Science. Over the past few weeks he knew that Tony and Dr. Banner had been working on something big to do with green energy and were close to breaking through, and Peter couldn’t resist just asking to be part of it, simply to observe more than anything. Of course, Tony had said yes- and so here Peter was, ready to go down to Tony’s workshop and watch the magic happen. Dr. Bruce was supposed to be arriving sometime in the afternoon, so until then it’d just be him and Tony going through the specs and running simulations. He was practically buzzing with excitement- science was always fun, but science with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner? 

God, sometimes Peter couldn’t even believe his life was real.

He chewed on a croissant absently as he scrolled through his instagram, grinning at some of the comments left on his photos. His profile was pretty famous- once Tony had bought him a good quality camera for his birthday, Peter had pretty much gone wild with the whole photography thing, and for some reason a lot of people on the internet had liked it, because he was on nearly 150,000 followers and counting. It was pretty trippy, really. He rolled his eyes at a comment he saw MJ had left- something mildly insulting about his choice of footwear- and then quickly shot off a reply, before switching off his phone and turning back to Tony, who had migrated from the table to one of the counters, where he was sat chewing on an apple and fiddling with the toaster.

“I thought you said you were gonna stop messing with Brian,” Peter told him with a frown, “he doesn’t like it when you tinker.”

“No, you think he doesn’t like it when I tinker, because for some reason you associate his low-pitched beeping with sadness,” Tony told him, tongue starting to stick out as he grabbed a screwdriver from his pocket, “he’s not actually sad. He likes upgrades. Look at him,” Tony held the machine up in his hands, grinning when the sentient toaster beeped three times, “he’s fine.”

Peter pulled a face, but let it drop. Sentient kitchenware was the norm in this place. “When are we gonna go down to the shop then?” He asked somewhat excitedly, fingers curling back around the mug of coffee on the table, “I’ll have to head home at about six for dinner, but I’ve got the rest of the day here.”

“Oh, lucky me,” Tony said, shooting a fond grin over at Peter, “as for the shop- you can head down whenever you want, as long as you don’t touch, tamper or blow up any of my stuff while you’re there.”

Peter pouted. “Then what’s the point of me going down at all?”

“To observe my brilliance and pure genius?” Tony tried, and then when Peter pulled an unimpressed face, he sighed loudly, “God, I swear kids used to be more respectful in my day. I swear you used to be more respectful. What happened?”

Peter grinned. “I got to know you,” he said simply, taking a sip of his coffee.

Tony glared at him and threw a corner of toast at his head, opening his mouth to undoubtedly curse Peter’s name- however he was interrupted by the sound of sliding elevator doors, and both of them turned to the sound of the noise. Peter subconsciously sat a little straighter- undoubtedly it’d be Miss Potts, and her immaculate visage always made Peter feel way too underdressed for- well- life.

But then the person stepped out, and Peter realised very rapidly that it was not Miss Potts.

It was, in fact, one of the prettiest people that Peter had ever seen.

The boy was maybe an inch or so shorter than Peter, with hair that curled over his forehead and fell into bright blue eyes. He was grinning cheekily from ear to ear and clutching a suitcase in his left hand, the other one shoved into the pocket of his jeans. He had an air of mischief about him, and he held himself with confidence and ease. 

“Tony, your son has arrived,” he said, and Peter promptly inhaled his coffee.

A few feet away from him, Tony sighed and then put down the toaster, wandering over to hit Peter on the back a few times and clear his airways. “Harley, how many times do I have to tell you- don’t start your conversations like that when there are strangers in the room. You nearly killed Pepper last time, and now look, you’re making Peter choke. You good kid?” He asked Peter, who just gasped and then nodded a few times, his eyes watering.

He looked at the boy- Harley, Tony had said- again, and his eyes widened in shock. “You’re Tony’s son?” He asked incredulously before turning to Tony, “you have a son?”

“I don’t have a son,” Tony told him, just as Harley grinned and said, “yeah, he has a son.”

“Harley likes to be a shithead,” Tony informed Peter with a pat on the shoulder and a roll of his eyes, wandering off and over to the other kid whilst Peter just gaped, “but no, we are in no way related. He basically just met me a few years ago and imprinted like a baby duckling, and he hasn’t left me alone since.” Tony grinned and then ruffled his hair, pulling Harley into a one-armed hug. The other boy returned it fondly- and Peter could see just over the course of the last few seconds that these two were obviously close. They must have known eachother a while. 

Harley switched his gaze back over to Peter, blinking a few times before smiling. “Hi,” he said, “uh- you’re Peter, right?”

Peter suddenly forgot how to use his speech. Fuck, that boy’s eyes were pretty. Like... warm ice. If that even made sense. He nodded jerkily and then smiled back, picking out a carefully selected word from his memory banks. “Yeah.”

Harley grinned- Oh God, he had a pretty smile too. “Cool,” he said, “I’ve heard about you before. Nice to meet you.”

He’d heard about Peter? From Tony? Oh God, then that meant Harley had probably heard all the embarrassing stories, what the fuck, he was going to kill Tony dead. “I- I haven’t heard anything about you,” he responded, before realising how terrible that sounded and jerking his hands up into the air, “not that- I mean- I meant to say, how do you two know eachother?”

Tony pulled a face and nudged Harley in the ribs. “Long story,” was all he said, waving his hand and then kicking Harley’s bag lightly, “you go get unpacked, kid, and then come down and meet me and Pete in the workshop, alright? I wanna get set up.”

Harley nodded and turned away, heading back to the elevator with a laid-back whistle. Peter’s eyes slid downward for a moment, before he forced them back up and blinked rapidly. God, he needed to get a grip. Harley had a suitcase which meant, for some reason, this strange kid was staying over in the tower with them- and that also meant that Peter might be seeing a lot of him. If that was the case, it wouldn’t do to get all... tongue tied, whenever he was in the same room as him. Peter needed to be cool. And calm. And possibly suave. Maybe even alluring-

“Peter?” He blinked, turning his head back to Tony, who was now alone and looking over at him curiously. “Did you-- were you even listening?”

He stuck out his chin, pondering it. “Uhhh. No.”

Tony sighed. “Your company is always appreciated, Parker.”

He shifted on his seat and leaned forward, glancing back to the elevator before going back to Tony again. “Soooooo,” he tried to sound casual as he tapped his fingers against the table, “uh, who was that then?”

Tony wandered back into the kitchen, over to Brian the Toaster. “Harley,” he said simply, “met him in Tennessee back when I was fighting the Mandarin. Kept contact with him ever since. He’s a dumbass.”

Peter frowned. “He doesn’t seem like a dumbass,” he said, “he seems... nice.” When Tony turned and looked at him curiously, Peter just shrugged and waved a hand. “What? He’s got a nice smile!”

“He’s got a smile that makes me fear for my safety,” Tony mumbled, “but I guess you can think what you want about it. Sure you’ll get on like a house on fire- just don’t take anything he says seriously. He likes to joke.”

Peter nodded. “Is he with anyone?” He asked- and then widened his eyes as, once again, he realised that had more than one meaning, “I- not as in girlfriend-sense, as in, you know... others. Parents.”

Tony shot him a strange look. “I know that was what you meant,” he said slowly, “why would you... okay, whatever, moving on- no, he’s not here with anyone. He’s just staying over for a few nights ‘cause he wouldn’t quit bugging me about seeing this new project, just like you. So.”

“Right,” Peter said, running his fingers across the rim of his mug. There were a hundred other things he wanted to ask the man, but he didn’t want to sound weird. He guessed he would just be able to ask Harley himself, when he came back down.

Or maybe not. Peter wasn’t so great when it came to... you know... talking. To people. Who were hot.

“Just out of interest,” Peter asked Tony as they both stood up to leave for the workshop, “is he with anyone? Like- girlfriends or anything?”

Tony stopped, turning his head to look at Peter rapidly. He stared for a second, before a small smile started to crack on his face; smug and knowing and spelling terrible things for Peter. He swore his spider-sense started to tingle a little at the look on his dumb mentor’s face. “Ohhhhhh,” Tony said in sing-song while Peter’s face dropped and he raised a hand warningly, “ohh, Peter Parker, do you have a-”

“-No no no, I was just wondering, Tony, wondering,” Peter said hurriedly, but of course, he’d made it too obvious and Tony had worked it out, dancing around Peter like a five-year-old asshole and poking him in the cheek.

“You like Harley!” He said in delight, “you liiiiiiike him, wow, look at that blush!” He cackled as Peter just shoved him away grouchily, but then strung an arm over Peter and squeezed, his expression ecstatic. “But for the record, no, there’s no girlfriend. And I’m pretty sure he said something about being Pan, so...” he shrugged and then grinned, pinching Peter’s cheek, “go for gold, my newly sexually awakened Spiderboy-”

“Eugh, gross, shut up Tony,” Peter yelped and pulled a face, shoving him again, “I’m not- he’s not that... just shut up. We should be doing science. And do not tell him anything, okay? I just...” He shrugged, feeling his blush deepen as he looked at the ceiling, “I just think he’s- he’s cute, that’s all. It’s not like I’m in love with him or anything- I haven’t even said more than ten words to him.”

Tony’s eyebrows wiggled up and down. He was obviously taking a lot of damn enjoyment out of this, and Peter did not appreciate it. “Well, luckily you have a whole week to woo him. He’s staying over at my tower for a little bit, and we’re all gonna be working on this science project together, so it’ll be real nice and cosy for the two of you!”

Oh dear Lord, he should never have let Tony catch onto this. “Do not try to play matchmaker,” Peter said firmly, raising a finger, “do not even think about it.  I can tell you’re thinking about it-”

“-I’m not thinking about it-”

“-and I am telling you, don’t.” Peter sighed, pressing two fingers into his forehead and shutting his eyes. “I don’t even know him, I literally just think that he’s cute.” Very very, ridiculously, should-be-illegal cute. But still. That was it.

Tony sniggered, but raised his hands in defeat all the same, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep my old-man nose out of your business,” he said with a dramatic sigh, pushing Peter toward the stairs and then stopping in his own tracks. “You head down to the shop. I’m gonna go talk to Harley, see if he needs anything.”

“Tony-”

“I promise, I promise, alright! I won’t say a word.” Tony looked like he was seconds away from bursting out into laughter, but Peter knew when Tony made a promise he kept it, so he didn’t worry too much. Just pulled a face and turned his back with an irritated huff. “There’s some tweezers in the bottom left drawer of my desk if you wanna make a last-ditch attempt to sort out that left eyebrow of yours, if you want.”

“Oh my god, just go away,” Peter muttered, cheeks flushed crimson as he remembered the little piece of information and wondered whether he would actually be able to get away with giving himself a little tidy-up before the two of them came back down to the lab. Just to keep up appearances and such. 

God. this week suddenly seemed a lot more difficult than it had done five minutes ago.

-

-

As soon as Harley sat his suitcase on the guest bed and made sure the door was firmly locked, he gave himself a moment to internally freak the Goddamn hell out. 

That was Peter Parker. 

Fuck, that was Peter Parker.

He swore under his breath and then ran his hands frantically through his hair, trying to smooth it out. He hadn’t even goddamn combed it through that morning, fully expecting to only see Tony in the tower, maybe Doctor Banner if he arrived early. He certainly had not been expecting Peter Parker to just be.... just be sat there, drinking coffee and looking every bit as perfect as he did on his instagram pictures. Harley had thought they had to be at least a tiny bit photoshopped, because surely someone’s hair couldn’t curl that prettily, their face couldn’t smile so beautifully- but nope. He’d walked into that goddamn kitchen, and Peter Parker had looked at him and smiled, and Harley had had to delve into the deepest recesses of his mind just to remember how to function like a normal human being. 

Peter Parker.

Harley followed his instagram page religiously. He could admit that he was more than just a little bit infatuated with the boy- he always looked so perfect, and he seemed so kind. Tony talked about him sometimes too- because of course Peter was also a genius that Tony Stark had taken under his wing- and when he did, Harley only ever got the idea that Peter Parker was one of the best people on the planet. Tony clearly rated him highly. For months, Harley had been working out a way for them to maybe-possibly-perhaps meet up, so that he could maybe-possibly-perhaps find a way to get Peter to fall immediately in love with him. 

But not here, not now, when Harley looked like death on two legs and hadn’t showered in days. Also, they were about to all go and do science together, which meant Peter would see Harley working off twelve cups of coffee and a redbull, which would probably terrify the boy beyond belief. 

Oh God, this was terrible. 

He stood jerkily and cursed again, pulling a face at his reflection when he passed it in the mirror. He could shower now, put on some fresh clothes and try to get his hair to do something that didn’t make it look like it was attempting to defy gravity, and then... then just do his best to treat Peter as if he wasn’t the person Harley religiously stalked on instagram. 

Wow, that sounded fucking creepy. Harley hadn’t even said more than five words to the boy, and he already knew it was going to go terribly. 

He’d just finished setting out his chosen outfit (definitely clean, probably not that appropriate for sciencing in, but definitely cool) onto the bed and was grabbing a towel to shower when Tony knocked on the door. Harley turned on his heel, throwing it open and then immediately pointing an accusing finger when he caught sight of the man. “You failed to inform me that I would not be the only young person here,” he said immediately. 

Tony looked at him with a shrug, stepping into his room and looking around, “To be fair, Peter didn’t know either,” he looked down at the bed in distaste, “Harley Keener, it’s been five minutes and you’ve already made my room look like it got bombed. How do you even manage that?”

Harley shut the door and then leaned against it, sighing. “Tony, that’s Peter Parker,” he whined.

Tony pulled a face. “Yes, it is, well done,” he said, “what about it?”

Harley just spluttered. “It’s... everything about it! I follow him on instagram, I look at his posts every day, he’s awesome and funny and cute and now he’s just here and you didn’t even warn me and my hair is messy and-”

“Whoah whaoh,” Tony made a ‘time-out’ gesture with his hands, squinting at Harley, “since when did you care about how you look? I’ve never seen you take more than two minutes to get ready in my life.”

“I-- I always care-”

“Harley, you once got gum stuck in your hair and left it in there for a week.”

He blushed, folding his arms defensively. “Maybe I’ve turned over a new leaf, huh?” He mumbled, “maybe I care now, when there are cute boys in the immediate vicinity which you failed to tell me about. I only brought my homeless-rat clothes! I don’t want Peter Parker to think I’m a homeless rat!”

Tony froze. And then he sighed, very loudly and dramatically. “Oh my God,” he muttered, “this is going to be a long week. This is.... a very, very long week. Wow.” He turned back to Harley and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him an assuring smile. “I promise, Peter also looks like a homeless rat when he’s working. You will be like a match made in awkward-teenager heaven.”

Harley just sighed, slumping against the door dejectedly. “Peter Parker would never look like a homeless rat,” he muttered, “Peter Parker is perfect. Have you not seen his instagram?”

“I have,” Tony pulled a face, “and I fail to see how a picture of his scrambled eggs managed to gather 30,000 likes. Jheeze, if you like him so much, just ask him out.”

“I can’t ask him out!”

“Why the damn hell not? I didn’t even think you owned an impulse control and I’ve sure as hell never seen you act shy around strangers before. You nearly shot me in the face when you first met me, and you were, like, seven years old.”

Harley sputtered, waving a hand as he felt his cheeks go pink. “Because he’s-- he’s Peter Parker,” he said weakly.

Tony just looked at him, and then threw his hands up in the air. “That makes no fucking sense, but whatever,” he said with a sigh. Harley just flipped him off. He was having a crisis here, and Tony was being no help whatsoever. 

Maybe he could go steal some of Tony’s makeup. Or his clothes. They were roughly the same size at that point, although Tony was more filled out- but baggy clothes were in right now, yeah? Peter would think he was cool, and less rat-like than he would if he turned up in his white-faded-to-gray sweater that had super noodle stains on the collar and smelled vaguely like Monster energy drink. “Can I pilfer through your wardrobe and get some clothes?” Harley asked, standing up straighter and turning to the door. Tony blinked, and then shook his head. 

“No. No you cannot, that wardrobe costs more than your house-”

“Huh? Sorry, didn’t hear that, too busy pilfering,” Harley waved a hand behind him and opened the door, hearing Tony sigh and mutter something unsavoury behind him. He grinned to himself as he slipped out of the corridor and heard Tony follow behind him. Coming to the Tower often felt more like coming home than it ever did back in Tennessee. Here, he could be an asshole, because Tony was an asshole right back to him. It was an equilibrium. It was just... nice. 

“I regret ever inviting you here,” Tony called out as he followed Harley up to his Penthouse, “you offer me no joy and I wish I’d never met you. How’s things at home?”

“When I’m not here, do you even have friends?” Harley asked, turning his head and raising his eyebrows. “Home’s still home. Mom’s still waitressing and not giving a shit about me, dad’s still MIA. You know the drill.” He shrugged and then stepped into the elevator, feeling Tony’s shoulder bump against him as he joined him. They stood in silence for a second, before Tony poked him in the ribs and Harley yelped. “What was that for?”

“I dunno. It felt awkward, you were talking about your shitty family and I wanted to lighten the mood.” Tony made a face and then looked over to Harley. “I can have them both killed if you want,” he said with a shrug and a cocked eyebrow. 

Harley just laughed. “Thanks, old man, but I think murder might be frowned upon by some people.”

“Uh, did you just call me ‘old man’?” Tony asked, looking at him in betrayal, “you know what, offer rescinded, I am no longer willing to murder anyone for you-”

“Awww, c’mon gramps, you know I didn’t mean it like that!” Harley cackled as Tony shoved him irritably into the wall, but then leapt right back to Tony’s side and linked their arms together with a grin. “Hey- you let me wear something cool and Armani, and I’ll not make another age-related joke for the rest of my time here. Deal?”

Tony glared up at him. “You know, I preferred it when you were smaller and less willing to emotionally blackmail me.”

Harley sniggered. “I seem to remember I was emotionally blackmailing you back then too, Tony. I’m just taller now.”

“Yeah, and I hate that,” Tony groused, before ruffling his hair and giving him a gentle shove over to his room, “now shut up and go rifle through my closet. let’s deck you out in some Armani and make Peter fall hopelessly in love with you, shall we?”

-

-

By the time Harley and Tony came down to the workshop, Peter had already set up his work-surface at the desk next to Tony’s, and was preparing a coffee for him and Bruce, who’d arrived about five minutes after Tony has disappeared. He heard them before he saw them, and briefly took another moment to prepare himself before he turned from the counter and put his Casual Face on. 

Across the room, he took in Harley, now with damp hair and a change of clothes- a slightly baggy Armani shirt, skinny jeans and a pair of faded Timberlands. He looked like he belonged on a damn runway- and here Peter was with his faded school sweater, a pair of sweatpants that were at least two sizes too big for him and held up with a bit of rope he’d found in the corner of his room that morning, and no shoes. 

Brilliant. 

Peter looked away rapidly, cheeks flushing scarlet with embarrassment. God, so much for alluring. Harley wore Armani as casual-wear.... he must be loaded to afford that. Peter wouldn’t dare wear his one designer shirt in the lab, because he knew he’d ruin it within five minutes. 

A kid like Harley would never even look twice at someone like him.

Swallowing down his disappointment, he walked hurriedly over to Doctor Banner instead of joining Tony and Harley, and then made sure to spend the next few hours thoroughly avoiding the other boy. Luckily Tony and Bruce were working on different sections, and so while Peter stuck to Bruce like glue (which probably confused the Doctor, but Peter could deal with the embarrassment of that later), Tony and Harley got cracking down on the lower sections of the large instrument that was taking up the majority of the workshop. Bruce had explained that, if this all functioned correctly by the time they had finished, then it would work to condense the carbon dioxide in major cities and turn the products into rock and gravel, which would then lock in the gas and reduce the CO2 levels in the air. One placed in every city would be enough to reduce the national carbon footprint by a quite frankly ridiculous amount, and Peter was here, working at the forefront of it all. It was incredible, it was breathtaking, a complete honour to be a part of...

And all he could think about was the state of his hair.

He hadn’t washed it. It was probably lying, all greasy and gross and flat on his head. What if Harley was looking at him? What if Harley was looking at him and seeing his horribly greasy gross flat hair and laughing at him? God, it was torture. He didn’t even know why he cared so much, he’d hardly said five words to the guy and knew absolutely nothing about him other than the fact that Tony liked him. Maybe if Peter actually spoke to him, he’d realised they didn’t fit at all and he could just relax. 

But he absolutely could not speak to Harley. Not when he looked like this.

So instead, he worked very very intently on the task Bruce had set him, and made sure that he did not have to look up and potentially catch the other boy’s eye once. A few times he had to talk to Tony, but he did so by simply shouting across the room rather than walking over to him, leading to a lot of frustrated cursing from Tony himself as he finally caved and walked over to Peter instead.

“You’re being weird,” he informed Peter, “it’s very obvious.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes it definitely is. Bruce, he’s being weird isn’t he?”

The other man peered out from behind what he was working on, giving Peter an apologetic face. “Little bit,” he admitted.

Peter just sighed, burying his head further into the book he was studying. He resisted the urge to glance up nervously in the direction he knew Harley was stood, in case it turned out the other boy was looking his way too. “I’m just concentrating very hard on this book,” he tried, ���it’s a very fascinating book.”

Tony snorted, which showed just how much he believed in that particular excuse. Then a second later, he flopped down next to Peter, nudging his side gently and then shooting him a knowing look. “He doesn’t bite, you know. I promise.”

Peter couldn’t resist any longer; he shot a rapid glance up over to Harley, feeling his breath catch immediately in his throat as he did so. He wasn’t doing much, simply sat casually on the chair with his feet propped on the desk as he screwed something into place on what looked to be a little robot. His tongue was stuck out in concentration, hair swept out of his face messily, and Peter watched him run a hand through it absently as he leaned forward and pulled the robot closer to his eye-level, muttering something unintelligible. He looked gorgeous.

“He wears Armani in workshops,” Peter said weakly, “that’s a little outta my league-”

“-oh, shut up,” Tony rolled his eyes and smacked him around the back of the head, “I can assure you that is the first time Harley Keener has worn something with a logo on it in his life. Usually he dresses like me after three days in the shop and no sleep. He just wanted to impress you and make himself look cooler.”

At that, Peter put his book down and snorted. “Yeah, right.” Harley didn’t even know Peter. He was just some stupid greasy kid who’d taken one look at him and nearly snorted coffee up his nose.

But Tony seemed convinced. “He does! He follows your weird instagram page, he told me himself. You really don’t need to be worried about what he thinks of you, Pete- he’s already followed like, every part of your life over these past three months.”

Oh. Peter blinked, looking at Tony in surprise. Harley already knew him? Okay, well, that was... unexpected. Peter wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information. “Does he like it?”

Tony pulled a face and glared at him. “I feel like he wouldn’t be trying so hard to impress you if he didn’t, Pete. Stop being dense. It’s giving me a migraine.”

“Everything gives you a migraine.”

“Well then stop adding to my long list!” Tony shoved him half-heartedly and then stood up, peering over Bruce’s shoulder. “We’re gonna call a break soon anyway. I want Chinese food and a movie- it helps my brain work.”

This time it was Peter’s turn to pull a face, looking to Bruce for support. But again, the man simply shrugged and nodded. “It’s true,” he told Peter, “it’s like a stimulant. For us, anyway. How much Chinese food did we eat while we were creating Vision, d’you think?”

“Oh, like, a fuck-ton. Fatal amounts.”

Bruce looked back at Peter. “There you go. Best things are made on a diet of Chinese and coffee.” He smacked the lid of his computer down and then stretched his back out, standing up off the desk. “I’m probably ready to break right now, actually. You wanna order something?”

Peter glanced over to Harley, now sat watching them all curiously from the other side of the room. They caught one another’s eye, and Peter quickly looked away in embarrassment, turning back to the book and pretending as if he were thoroughly invested in it. “I need to go home first,” he blurted, “shower and stuff. Just order some fried rice for me, yeah?”

Bruce and Tony nodded in acknowledgement, and Tony informed him the food would get there at five and if he didn’t arrive in time his share would almost certainly be eaten. Peter was fully aware of Tony’s love for Chinese and so did not doubt this for a second. He quickly gathered his stuff and then hightailed it out of the tower, promising he would be back within the hour.

He was not back within the hour. 

Admittedly, this was entirely his own fault. But he’d wanted to make sure that he was looking his best, so that certain people didn’t get the wrong impression about him. He could clean up okay when he wanted to, and when he could actually find the right goddamn clothes. “AUNT MAY, WHERE’D YOU PUT MY LEATHER JACKET?”

“HUH?” She called back from the kitchen.

“MY LEATHER JACKET?”

“OH- IT’S IN MY CLOSET,” she informed him, to which he rolled his eyes and then stumbled out of his room, now looking more like a nuclear waste site than a place for humans to live. He saw May peer at him curiously as he walked through the hall, and when he came back out of her room a minute later with his jacket, she raised her eyebrows. “You’re looking dashing,” she told him, “hot date?”

For some reason, it made him blush crimson. “Uh- no, what, of course not... I’m just going back to the tower and wanted to- you know- freshen up.”

She eyed him. “You’re wearing cologne.”

“So?”

“You never wear cologne. You didn’t wear cologne to your Great-Aunt Morticia’s funeral.”

Peter huffed. “Well, maybe I’m just trying something new?” He managed to hold eye contact with her for all of three seconds before caving with a large sigh. “Or... maybe Tony invited one of his other proteges to the tower and they’re really pretty and I don’t know how to act around them at all and I’m gonna look stupid for the next week,” he admitted, feeling his cheeks go hot once more, dammit. 

May put down her ladle and cocked her head. “Well,” she said, “first thing’s first, ditch the tie.”

He looked down. “Really?”

“Yes, Peter, you’re going to the tower to watch movies and eat Chinese food, not try and secure a business deal. Ditch the tie, wear a smile, and show this person how wonderful you are.” She smiled at him. “There will be unable to not fall immediately in love with you.”

He face was bright and earnest, and Peter felt his heart swell with affection as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I don’t even... we haven’t even spoke yet,” he admitted with an embarrassed grin, “he might be an asshole.”

“Well, on the off-chance that he’s not-” May leaned forward and squeezed his cheeks, shooting him another grin, “just make sure to chew gum after your meal.”

Oh, great. Well now Peter was thinking about kissing him, which was stupid and dumb and not even remotely likely to happen. He groaned and then shuffled out of her grip, hearing her chuckling behind him. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he mumbled, “don’t stay up late just to harass me about it when I get back, please.”

“No promises!” She called out, “Love you!”

“Love you too.”

By the time he actually arrived back at the tower, it was half an hour later than he was supposed to have turned up, and he sighed to himself. That meant he’d have to order himself some more food and wait another thirty minutes then. Great. 

However, when he got to the communal living room where Tony, Bruce and Harley were all lounging around, he noticed in surprise that his takeout box was still there, unopened. He blinked in surprise. “Oh.”

The occupants of the room all turned to him, and Peter pointedly made sure not to look in Harley’s direction. The boy was looking at him, he could tell, but Peter didn’t dare look back. God- how the hell was he supposed to exist like this for a week? He sincerely hoped he built up some courage at some point during Harley’s stay, or it was just going to be awkward for everyone. 

“Oh, he arrives!” Tony called out, throwing up his hands, “only thirty minutes late. We’ve been waiting to start the movie! I had to actually make conversation with those two just to pass the time, it was a goddamn train-wreck.” He flicked his hand over to Bruce and Harley, who both just rolled their eyes. 

“Don’t worry, you haven’t missed much- just some of Tony’s insane inner monologues,” Bruce told him with a gentle smile, “come on- we’re watching Pacific Rim. We even saved your takeout for you.”

“No, Harley saved your takeout for you,” Tony muttered, shooting Peter a sly look before anyone else could see and then looking away again, “I was in favour of just eating it, but for some reason Mr. Keener over here has now decided he’s going to be a good Samaritan and ordered me to save it.”

“I’m always a good Samaritan,” Harley said primly, sliding the box of Peter’s takeout over to him and shooting him a smile that lit up his whole face. It was mischievous, but his eyes were kind. Peter caught himself staring, somewhat transfixed at the beautiful icy colour of his irises, but a moment later he snapped out of it and forced his eyes back to the TV screen. He ignored the stifled laughter that came from Tony’s direction. Bastard.  

He sat down in the middle of sofa between Bruce and Harley, acutely aware of every move that he made in case he brushed up against the other boy. He probably looked like an idiot, sat ramrod straight on the couch and pointedly keeping his eyes on the TV screen. He knew that if he accidentally caught Harley’s eye, he might just start staring like a creep, and no one wanted that. 

God, he was terrible at this. 

“So, Harley,” Tony said about ten minutes into the film, rolling his head on the couch in order to look over at the other boy, “you found any apartments in New York that are cheap enough to buy yet or are you still looking?”

On his left, Harley sighed dramatically. “New York is too expensive,” he whined, “how the fuck am I supposed to afford to even buy a room in this city?”

Tony eyed him. “Oh, I dunno, maybe that bursary Stark Industries granted you would help a little bit, you know? Admit it, you haven’t even started looking yet, have you?”

Peter frowned a little in confusion, looking between Harley and Tony. Harley just pulled a face and flopped further into the couch, folding his arms sullenly. It was kind of cute. “I’ve been busy!” He said defensively, “and I don’t know how to do adult things yet! I’m working up to it.”

“Your planning skills astound me,” Tony said drily, waving a hand to Peter, “Pete could probably help you out. He’s like a 70 year-old trapped in a teenage body, aren’t you kid?”

He raised his eyebrows over to Peter and then shot him a look. He was giving Peter a chance to enter the conversation, clearly. Peter swallowed, looking between Tony and Harley. “Uhh,” he began, clearing his throat, “uh, why are you even buying a house here? Aren’t you my age?”

Harley smiled (Fuck he had a nice smile) and leaned back against the couch cushions, shooting Tony a glance. “Yeah,” he began, “I am, but I’m also part of the Stark Internship Programme. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a dumbass from Tennessee like me, so I’m gonna come move to New York in order to take it. Tony’s gonna have to deal with me for the whole program, aren’t you?”

“God help me,” Tony pulled a face and folded his arms.

“But anyway,” Harley shrugged and waved a hand absently as he picked at some of his noodles, “the program starts in a few months and I, uh, still haven’t really... organised anything yet. Because I am a dumbass. Like I said. So.”

Peter huffed in a amusement, but couldn’t help adding another tick onto the Checklist of Harley Keener. Not only was this kid smart, but he was smart enough to be in the SI Internship Programme. That was rare-- Peter had barely managed to scrape by through the skin of his teeth.  

So, to summarise: Harley was gorgeous. Harley was funny. Harley was kind (he’d saved Peter’s Chinese food from Tony’s clutches, probably more than once while Peter had been gone). Harley was a good enough person to be known and loved by Tony. Harley was ridiculously clever. 

Harley was 100%, unequivocally out of Peter’s league. 

He tried not to let the realisation show on his face. Well-- it was hardly even a realisation, was it? Peter had known that from the very fucking beginning. Harley just exuded an easy confidence that Peter did not have, he was charming where Peter was horribly awkward, and he moved as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Peter had never stood a chance. 

He was quiet for the rest of the night, unable to quite look the other boy in the eye, God forbid Harley somehow spot the obvious crush Peter had managed to develop over the space of a day. God, that was just pathetic. Tony and Bruce attempted a few more times to bring him back into the conversation, but Peter just didn’t know what to say. He felt awkward and stiff, like his body was suddenly too clumsy and big for him. He talked to Tony, because Tony was easy, but couldn’t bring himself to glance over at Harley, at the risk of doing something stupid like swooning at the sight of him. 

Fuck. Harley Keener had turned him into a mess in under 24 hours-- how was Peter supposed to do this for a week? He was going to have to go home and just work on... well, getting over it all, he supposed. It wouldn’t do to just pine over a stranger. That was weird, right? Weird and stupid. 

Yeah. He’d go home, re-evaluate everything, and tomorrow he’d come back crushless and fine. It’d be alright. 

-

-

Dinner had been a disaster, and by the end of it, Harley knew that Peter hated him. 

“What did I do wrong?” He whined, head falling against the kitchen table as Tony set about making coffee for the two of them at 11 at night. Bruce had headed off to bed by that point, and Peter had pretty much sprinted back home as soon as the movie was done, so it was just him and Tony now. “I wasn’t an asshole, was I? Was I an asshole? I don’t remember being an asshole.”

“You’re always an asshole,” Tony leaned up into the cupboard to pull out two mugs, sliding one across the table toward Harley, “it’s your default mode. But no, you weren’t any worse than usual. In fact, I’d even say you were quite nice, which was surprising. You saved his Chinese food.”

Harley nodded. “I did, didn’t I? Why would he hate me for that?”

“He doesn’t hate you, Harley--”

“Well he quite clearly does, he didn’t even look me in the eye!”

Tony paused, and then sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. Harley wasn’t sure whether he was praying to God or just sharing a silent conversation with JARVIS. “I did not ask for this,” he muttered to himself, almost too quiet for Harley to hear, “I did not ask to have to be the middle-man between a pair of pining teenagers, Jesus fucking Christ.”

Tony turned around and then leaned against the kitchen, looking at Harley. “Peter is an awkward 17 year old who has no idea how to act around you, because, despite how trashy you are in reality, you do in fact put on quite a good appearance of having it all together. Peter is looking at you and thinking, ‘whoah, that boy is so cool. I’m not cool enough for that Cool Boy’.”

Harley’s brow wrinkled. “How d’you... why would he think that?”

“Beats me,” Tony’s hand flew out helplessly as he turned back to the coffee, “the kid’s a Godsend and one day, one fucking day he’ll actually realise that. But for now, he’s still holding onto the crippling self esteem.” His head turned back to Harley and he raised an eyebrow, his expression a little softer. “Think you need to have a little more confidence in yourself too, Keener. You’re not so awful either.”

Harley just pouted. It wasn’t that he thought he was awful, per se, it was just that... well, Peter was so much better. Peter was a cool city kid, he was a brilliant photographer, he was perfect. 

Harley was just Harley. Asshole from Tennessee with a mom who couldn’t give a shit about him and no real friends to call his own. Tony Stark, a man he’d met one time when he was seven, was the closest thing he had to family. 

Realistically, he just knew he couldn’t compare with that. 

“There’s a place in Brooklyn,” Harley blurted, because God, he really didn’t want to dwell on that sort of shit, “I literally just found it on the ride up to New York this morning, actually. S’nice. One-bedroom apartment, little kitchenette. Pretty nice area.”

Tony poured coffee into his mug and then leaned across the table, doing the same to Harley’s. Harley glanced up at him as he did it, eyes drawing over to the light in Tony’s chest. Last time he’d seen Tony had been about four months ago, and the reactor hadn’t been put back in at that point. “Okay, well that’s a start,” Tony nodded approvingly and then flopped onto the stool behind him, “I can come with you to check it out tomorrow, if you want.”

“Nah, it’s--”

“Oh, God, sorry, sometimes I forget not to sound polite all the time. I meant ‘I’m coming with you to check it out, so that I know you’re not moving into a place full of asbestos and situated in-between two rival gangs.” Tony grinned at him, and God, he was an asshole. Harley loved him. 

“Maybe I want to be living between two rival gangs,” He questioned, “maybe that’s all part of my plan.”

“Yeah, kid, that’s the problem. It probably is part of your plan, and as the only vaguely responsible adult in your life, I need to make sure it does not go ahead. You’d probably try and get into an ethical debate with a crackhead while they’re pointing a gun at you, and I’d rather not deal with that cleanup.”

They both laughed, and Harley raised the cup to his lips and took a large gulp of the black coffee at the same time Tony did. Both of them sighed appreciatively.

Then Tony put the mug down and shuffled in his pockets, pulling out a pen. He leaned forward and grabbed Harley’s arm. “Hold still.”

Harley obeyed, letting Tony write out a string of numbers on his arm which he realised was a phone number. He frowned. “What--”

“That is Peter Parker’s cell,” Tony said, stabbing a finger against Harley’s forearm. “You are going to text him tonight. He’ll still be awake at this point.”

His eyes widened. “Nuh uh.”

“Yes.”

“No! He doesn’t like me and I’m not going to embarrass mys--”

“He does,” Tony rolled his eyes, but then his face turned earnest as he looked down at Harley, “I promise, kid. Trust me. Just... God, just say hey, start a conversation, don’t do anything weird like spam him with pictures of clowns like you do to me. He’ll be better over text. It’s less awkward for him.”

Harley bit his lip and looked down at the string of numbers. “If I make an idiot of myself, you have to buy me a Ferrari.”

“You know what, I’m so confident that I will take that bet.” Tony stuck out a hand, and after Harley shook it, the man shooed him away. “Now fuck off and go talk to him. Breakfast will be at like, 9, probably, depending on how much sleep I get. Have fun.” 

Harley stood up slowly, cup of coffee still held in his hands as Tony backed away and then turned over to the counter once again. He was muttering something about teen rom-coms and ‘geniuses are so fucking stupid, I swear to God’. Harley chose to ignore it in favour of backing out of the room, a hand diving into his pocket and collecting his phone. He gripped it nervously between two hands, holding it all the way up on the elevator ride to his room. He finished the coffee as soon as he got in and then tossed the mug onto his desk before flopping on the bed, looking at the phone number on his arm. 

Should I, shouldn’t I?

God, it was dumb. This whole thing was dumb. Harley was overthinking it-- this was just a cute boy with a cute smile and a cute heart-- Harley needed to suck it up and text him, the same way he texted everyone else. If he didn’t respond, he didn’t respond. So what? He could get over it. He probably wouldn’t even see Peter after this week anyway. It’d be fine. Just grow a spine and do it, Keener. 

He braced himself and opened his phone. 

Hey, Peter. This is Harley, the dumbass from Tennessee.

[certifiedskywalker]

One Week - Peter Parker

The six times Peter Parker realized he was falling for you and the one time he did something about it.

Monday.

“So who studied for this test over the weekend?” Your voice, and the sound of your book bag slamming against his desk, jolted Peter from his day dreaming. Looking up he met your gaze and noted how your smile seemed to reach the corners of your eyes. He wished that you smiled like that all the time. He always thought you looked stunning, but when you smiled….you were absolutely breathtaking. To the point where Peter would become speechless.

“I sure didn’t!” Ned chimed in, helping Peter refocus. You nodded at Ned, explaining that you were in the same boat. Peter took the time to catch up with himself; but you were so distracting. Was it something different you wore or was it just that smile of yours? He tried to swallow the feeling that rose up in his throat.

“I don’t think anyone did,” you agreed, then glanced back to Peter. “Except Mr. Smarty-Pants here, of course.” You reached over and ruffled Peter’s curly hair. He let out a breathy laugh, hoping that it masked the pounding of his heart in his chest.

“I-I did, actually. I can give you the rundown if you want?” You smiled at him again, a new glimmer in your eyes, and the same tickling sensation swarmed in Peter’s chest once more. It was your smile.

“It’s alright, thank you though, Pete.” He opened his mouth to protest, offer his time up again. He wanted you to take his time. Peter found himself missing those days where Aunt May would pick you both up from school for play dates. Playground meetings turned to study gatherings as you grew and they felt so rare now. Ever since he had adopted the mantle of Spiderman, Peter felt more and more empty as he spent less of his time with you. It felt, like every time you were with him, he was left yearning for more.

“Y/N, do you maybe want to-” Before he could finish the bell rang, signalling the start of class.

“Good luck, fellas,” you said as you made your way to your own desk. Peter let the words die on his lips as you walked away. Ned watched as his friend’s shoulders fell. He clapped Peter on the shoulder.

“You nervous?” Peter gave his friend a quick glance before letting his gaze fall to you.

“You could say that, yeah.”

Tuesday.

“Peter?” The sound of his name falling from your lips sent shivers down his spine. Even over the booming beat and bassy notes that filled the living room, Peter could pick out your voice with ease. As if he had been finely tuned just for you. Turning, he drank in your visage.

“Hey, Y/N,” he breathed out, smiling at you shyly. You looked like what Peter could only describe as perfection. His eyes scanned up and down your form, wishing that you had come to the party with him. He loved Ned, really, but it was you. It was always going to be you.

“What are you doing here? You’re not a party person!” You wrapped your arms around Peter’s neck, pulling him in for a hug. His arms curled around your torso and he held you in such a way where he could feel your heart beating within your rib cage. He savored the smell of your body wash until you pulled away and he forced himself out of the haze.

“It was Ned’s idea,” Peter explained, gesturing to the boy dancing, or trying to, with a larger group of people. “He told me you were here so…”

“Aw, you came here for me?” A bright blush rose to Peter’s cheeks and he was grateful for the multicolored, flashing lights that hid it from your sight. “How sweet.” He bit his bottom lip and looked down at his shoes. When had just talking to you become so hard?

“Y-Yeah,” he started, but the threat of bile in his throat hindered him from speaking further. You stood before him, waiting for more from him. He scratched the back of his head, trying to summon any type of courage. At first he had thought it was just hormones. High schoolers are basically controlled by their hormones, he had learned that in Health class. This would pass; at least that was what he first thought.

But now, with the way you were looking at him, he knew that this was no passing feeling. He wanted you, he needed you in ways he couldn’t convey. He didn’t want to be your friend, not anymore. He wanted to kiss you, hold you; but there was that wall. The fear that blocked him from you.

“Well, let’s not just stand here!” Before he could question what you meant, Peter felt your hand grab his and begin to pull him after you. The music grew louder with each step and it took all he had not to run away. “C’mon, Pete,” you said, almost sensing his apprehension.

Soon enough, he was standing in front of you again with bodies twisting around the two of you. Your hands still held his and you began to guide his movement. Turning, spinning like his very world, you danced around him. Giggles escaped your throat and Peter wondered if you were laughing at his expression or if you were taunting his heart with the melody of your voice.

Soon, Peter started to move too. Without rhythm, but with you to guide him, he moved. If he closed his eyes, blocked out the hollers of the other around him, Peter could pretend it was just you. Just you and him, like how it was when he dreamed. Just like how he wished it could be.

Then the music slowed, the heavy beat turned into the soft strumming of a guitar. You slowed your movements and let go of Peter’s hand. He yearned to feel it’s warmth again. Peter dared to reach out, his fingers just skimming your forearm. You turned back to him, your eyes sparkling like stars in darkened skies.

“Y/N, I, do you-” Suddenly, you were plucked away from him. Your face turned away to look at whomever pulled you to the side. Peter had seen his face before at school. He had seen him undress you with his eyes and Peter had felt anger towards him. He wanted to save you, but as the music carried on, so did you. You were dancing and it wasn’t with him.

Sadly, Peter walked off of the dance floor. His brow was furrowed as he strode towards the door. As he walked out of the party, he mentally cursed Ned. This was a bad idea. As Peter Parker walked out into the night, Ned watched his friend’s heart fall away.

Wednesday.

People were still recovering from the party Tuesday night. Flash complained of a migraine while MJ mocked those who wore the same clothes from last night to school that morning. Their words fell weakly off of Peter’s numbed shoulders. Anytime Ned wooted and referenced the party, Peter would grumble. It wasn’t until you showed up during lunch that Peter’s demeanor changed altogether.

“Hiya, guys,” you said, taking the empty seat beside Peter. Immediately, he felt the warmth of your body against his arm. “You all have fun last night?” Your question was met with cheer and grunts alike, but Peter just stared at you. People began to reminisce again about the dancing and food. You had fallen silent, suddenly leaning against Peter’s shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked in the hopes of distracting you from the way his breathing had shallowed. You were so close to him now, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm curled around his own. Moving against him slightly, just enough to look into his eyes.

“How are you not exhausted?” Peter let out a small, nervous laugh.

“I-I left early,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear, “after we danced.” You cocked your head, your chin digging into his shoulder a bit.

“Really? You should have stayed. You were a far superior dance partner.”

“Oh-h, sorry. I just figured that the other guy-” A shout caught your attention, drawing it back to the whole of the table. A heavy sigh fell from Peter’s lips as he was cut off once again. It seemed to be a reoccurring thing whenever he tried to talk to you now. He figured it was just his own nerves and continued to watch you. You began to speak to everyone, but you body remained against his. You were so relaxed in this tired state.

Peter found himself lost in features. The fluttering of your lashes to the curve of your lips. He dreamed of a day similar to the current one, where you were still tired. You were sleepy, leaning against him, laughing with him. The tender imagined image in his head lulled him into a false sense of comfort. Feeling an overwhelming wave of contentment, Peter allowed himself a touch. With you head still on his shoulder, he rested his head atop of yours.

You shifted against him, but surprised Peter when you didn’t pull away. Glancing around, Peter saw that MJ had raised her eyebrow at the display and that Ned’s eyes had widened slightly. He felt self-conscious under their gazes, his knee began to bounce beneath the table wildly. Before his cowardice grew further and he pulled away, he felt your hand rest against his leg.

“What is it?” Your voice was quiet, soothing. Peter lifted his head and saw that your eyes were filled with concern. In that moment, he could have swore that his heart had burst inside his chest. You glowed it seemed, with your head cocked to the side as you studied his face.

“Uh, nothing,” Peter said quickly. He turned his face away from you then, anxiously looking towards the clock in the cafeteria. Despite his dismissal, your hand remained on his leg for the rest of lunch. The burning in Peter’s cheeks went unnoticed by you but, with a glance at his friends, Peter knew that they had seen it.

Thursday.

“Hey, Aunt May!” You cheered as Peter pushed the door to the apartment open. You rushed inside and ran to Aunt May’s open arms. Peter smiled at the scene, closing the door with his foot as he stepped inside.

“Y/N! It’s been too long! I hope you’re staying for dinner! We’re ordering out tonight!” Peter furrowed his brows, turning his gaze towards the kitchen. Pots were loaded up in the sink and a pungent odor wafted to his nose.

“The recipe didn’t turn out?” He asked his aunt as you pulled away from her embrace. She let out a huff, causing you laugh lightly. Peter’s eyes drifted to you the moment the sound reached his ears.

“Rachel Ray is overrated anyway,” Aunt May mused, “you kids get to studying. I’ll order the takeout.” Peter nodded and grabbed the bag you had left on the floor. “Y/N, we’re ordering from the place on Marvin Avenue, you know, that small place. You want the usual?”

“Yes, please!” You said, following Peter into his room. He smiled at the fact you were so comfortable with Aunt May, his family. As you both settled in his room, you turned to Peter, that same smile on your face. The one that haunts his thoughts constantly.

“What?” He asked, smiling up at you from his spot on his desk chair.

“She’s right,” you said, “it’s been too long since I've been here. I’ve missed home.” Peter felt his jaw drop slightly, causing him to turn away to compose himself. When he turned back to face you, you were already near his bed and thumbing through the fantasy novel on his nightstand.

“It has,” he agreed and he heard a hum escape you in response. You spun on your heels, still smiling but now facing him again. While you were only a few paces away, merely a leap across his bedroom floor, Peter felt like you were so out of reach. Yet you were right there, standing before him in all your glory.

“P-Peter?” Your voice was shaky when to asked for him, drawing your eyes to the floor for a brief moment before looking at him once more.

“Y-Yeah?” Peter asked, standing up. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. This was it. He was done for, and if not, he would make it so. There was a long pause after his question. You licked your bottom lip, a habit Peter had noticed you do when you’re thinking, and then shook your head.

“Nevermind, we should start studying before it gets too late.” You walked over to the desk and rummaged through your bag, pulling out the book you would be needing. Peter watched on, his whole body thrumming in anticipation. He needed to make a move, he wanted to. Especially now that MJ and Ned were texting him nonstop, pestering him with questions that he only wanted your answers to. Did you love him like he loves you?

“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you.” You turned to met his hazel eyes and Peter noticed how your stance had changed.

“What is it?” You asked, leaning towards him slightly. Peter felt his resolve shaking. C’mon dude, you’re Spiderman, just do it, he thought to himself. He took a step closer, so close that your faces were a few inches apart. He saw your eyes dart from his to his lips and Peter tried his best to suppress the rush he got from that small tick. “Peter?”

His name again, in your voice; it sounded like a song. His favorite song. Even when you were both young, whenever you called out to him, a smile like the one on his lips in that very moment would decorate his features. Who knew that you both would have ended up here?

“I wanted to tell you that-”

“Y/N! They’re out of your usual order! Is there something else you want?” Aunt May pushed open Peter’s door, her cell phone pressed against her ear. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed how close the two of you were and Peter turned to hide his blush. “Am I-”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having then, May,” you replied smoothly. Peter, with his outstretched senses could hear the fast-paced beating of your heart. Had he scared you?

“Alrighty then,” May said before leaving his room. He glanced at her nephew one last time before disappearing behind the door. Peter now stood a pace or two away from you, his eyes glued to the floor. Perhaps now wasn’t the time. Maybe there would never be a time.

“What did you want to tell me Peter?” He turned at your question, his eyes meeting yours before he shook his head the same way you had.

“I-I, uh, I forgot. It’s okay, I’ll tell you if I remember later.” He reached out towards his desk and grabbed the books. He settled, crossed legged on the floor and looked up at you expectantly. “Study time?”

You smiled at him again and, damn it, he felt the ache in his heart return. “Heck yeah! Let’s do this!”

Friday.

“So let me get this straight,” MJ sighed, pinch the bridge of her nose, “Y/N came over to your place and you didn’t spill the beans?!” Peter nodded and MJ let out a groan. Ned sighed and shook his head at Peter.

“Dude, you’re gonna regret that!”

“I know, Ned, but I just….it left like, if I did tell Y/N, everything would change.” MJ glared at Peter as he spoke.

“Isn’t that kind of the point?” Peter’s brow furrowed and she continued, “you are friends with Y/N right now, but you want to be more, right?” Peter nodded. “Then things are going to have to change, Parker! I thought you were smart!”

“I know that,” Peter said, raising his hands in the air, “but I don’t want to, I don’t want to lose Y/N. I’m scared that if I say what I want to say that…”

“Pete,” Ned said, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Y/N would never stop hanging out with you. You’re like, best friends, more than you and I! You’ve known each other since grade school, right?” Peter nodded and MJ let out another sigh.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ll be fine, Y/N will be fine, you’ll date and live happy ever after!” She waved her arms to emphasize the joy of it all but Peter frowned.

“Then why do you sound sarcastic?”

“It’s just the way I sound.” Peter raised an eyebrow at her and MJ sighed, looking around the room. Her eyes widened suddenly and Peter glanced in the direction she was facing. “Peter, don’t….”

It was too late. He was already looking. You were leaning a shoulder against the wall, talking with the guy from the party. He must’ve said something funny because you threw your head back, laughing in the way Peter wished he could play on repeat. The two of you continued talking and Peter turned back, his eyes diverted towards the surface of the table.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Ned said quickly, “they’re just talking!” Peter nodded, but his face betrayed him. Y/N was amazing, that guy would be stupid not to make a move.

“You’re right, MJ,” Peter said, standing from his spot, “I’m not that smart after all.” As he moved away from the table, he spared one last glance over his shoulder. You looked beautiful, even if you weren’t right next to him. He would just have to get used to feeling this way.

Saturday.

“Peter?” Aunt May’s voice sounded from behind the locked door of Peter’s bedroom. Rolling to the side of the bed, Peter’s eyes fell on the door. “Peter, can you open this up please? You’ve been in here all morning?”

Begrudgingly, Peter reached for his web shooter. Once it was on his wrist, he shot it towards the door. The webs spread across the brass handle and pulled, undoing the lock on the door. The web fell slack and Peter threw the mechanism to the side.

“It’s open now,” Peter grumbled, turning in his bed again. He heard the door creak open and the soft foot falls of Aunt May’s feet against the floor. Closing his eyes, Peter tried to block the thoughts of you out of his mind so he could hide from his aunt’s, undoubtedly, pestering amount of questions. As he felt the side of his mattress dip under Aunt’s May’s weight, Peter opened his eyes.

“Are you feelin’ alright?” Before he could respond, Aunt May pressed the back of her hand to Peter’s forehead.

“Aunt May,” Peter groaned, “I’m not sick.”

“Then why are you all bundled up in here? I’m sure Ned and Y/N are free.” Peter stayed silent and she nudged him, “C’mon, it’s the weekend.”

“Jus’ not feeling’ it today,” Peter lied. He had been ‘feelin’ it’ all week, and that was his problem. Aunt May sighed and made a ‘tsk’ sound with her tongue.

“You know, it’s like an Aunt superpower; detecting falsehoods.”

“Falsehoods?” Peter questioned, the slightest of smile gracing his lips.

“I can say ‘falsehoods’! It’s a fair use word!” Peter let out a weak chuckle, which only seemed to deepen the creases in his aunt’s face. “Now, what’s really the matter?”

“It’s….It’s Y/N,” Peter began, “I...think I….”

“You love Y/N?” The words that Peter had been trying to voice over the past five to six days flew from his aunt’s lips without a problem. How could it be that easy? Could it truly be that simple?

“Y-Yeah,” Peter stuttered, “I think….yeah, I do.” Aunt May smiled at him, as the weight that had been dragging Peter down finally dissipated. “I just don’t know how to say it.”

“Y/N doesn’t know then, I take it?” Peter nodded his head and Aunt May merely smiled. “Peter Benjamin Parker,” she ran her fingers through her nephew’s hair in a motherly gesture, “you are the bravest young man I know. You’re the smartest and sweetest on top of that.”

“Aunt May,” Peter mumbled, his face burning slightly.

“Y/N sees that, trust me. Those study dates you two have, I can feel it.” She leaned down a pressed a quick kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I love you, Peter.”

“Love you too, May,” Peter said, scooting up so he could hug his aunt. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she hummed, smiling down at him. “Just practice safe sex.”

“Aunt May!”

Sunday.

Peter’s feet landed softly on the fire escape outside the window of apartment J17. It was like greeting an old friend as he tapping on the glass. It had been ages since he had done this. Showing up unexpected at your window was a rare treat now that he was Spiderman.

His heart pounded as he waited beside your window. He hoped you were home, that you weren’t with someone else. Peter swallowed his fear, trying his best to calm himself down. His shaking hand lifted once more to rap his knuckles against the glass again. He shifted on his feet, waiting nervously.

Soon the curtains parted and Peter was greeted by your wonderful smile. Pulling the window up, you leaned outside. The breeze that soared through Queens messed with your hair just as it did with Peter’s. In the sunlight, you seemed to glow before him.

“Peter? What are you doing here?” You clambered through the window, meeting him on your fire escape ledge. Carefully, you balance yourself but you leaned to the side awkwardly. Peter grabbed your forearms to steady you, smiling at you brightly.

“I just wanted to see you, is that a crime?”

“No,” you laughed, gripping his arms tightly, “you just surprised me. I haven’t heard from you since Thursday night.”

“Y-Yeah, about that...I was thinking about it. About what I wanted to tell you.”

“You remember it now?” Peter let out a breathy chuckle and shook his head.

“I never actually forgot,” he admitted. Your brows knitted together and Peter smiled sheepishly. He could feel his heart hammering within his rib cage. “I just…”

“Peter,” you said calmly, raising a hand to brush against his face. His mouth fell open slightly at the contact, his eyes searching yours. Your eyes scanned his and Peter felt a rush of affection flood his heart. Now.

“Y/N,” he paused once more, before shaking his head. He would not let fear control him anymore. “I love you. I’ve been trying to tell you all week and I-”

“Peter, just shut up and kiss me,” you interrupted. It was the first time all week that Peter Parker was happy to be cut off. Letting out a chuckle and pressed forward, capturing his lips with yours. He could feel you smile into the kiss and he felt himself do the same. Your hands shifted, tangling themselves in his chestnut curls.

Suddenly, you began to laugh. Peter pulled away from you, resting his hands on your waist to hold you closer to him. You managed to calm yourself slightly, resting your forehead against Peter’s. You were so warm that Peter almost didn’t want to ask.

“Why are you laughing?” “You were trying all week?”

[isomnelyswear]

Paranormal vacation part 4. The end.

Starker fanfiction

The end :)

When the sun awaked him, Peter wasn't around. Tony went to his room to change his clothes. Peter bedroom's door slammed behind him. He turned around. Nobody was there. He walked to his room. His hands were shaking. Something wasn't normal. He dressed up quickly and joined Strange and Wong. They had breakfast.

"Have you seen Peter ?

- He allowed us to take food and went upstairs. He said he was still sleepy. Why ?

- Is isn't in his room or mine."

Clouds fulfilled the sky. The house dove into darkness. A cold wind entered the kitchen. It brought the awful smell.

"This isn't good. We must find him, right now, ordered Dr Strange. Wong, check the cave. I'll go upstairs with Mr Stark."

They ran, opened all the doors. Peter were nowhere to be find.

"Peter ?! Peter ?! Tony yelled.

- Is there another floor ?

- Maybe the attic."

They went to his room and unhooked the attic's door on the roof. A ladder fell on the ground.

"Only a little dust. It was used recently."

Tony climbed the ladder. Peter was just standing here, in the middle of the room. Tony ran to him.

"Peter ! Why didn't you answer ? What the hell ?"

The young man didn't answer. Strange joined him.

"You may want to take a step back Mr Stark...

- Peter ! It's Tony ! Answer ! Say something! Are you hurt?"

Tony shook him. Peter's eyes were grey. They fixed him. Tony retreated.

"Peter ...?"

Peter jumped on him, his hands tightening his throat. Tony fell on the ground. He pushed him, but Peter was stronger.

"Please... Peter... Stop..."

Strange caught Peter and threw him away.

"Holy shit, Tony shouted massing his throat. What is wrong with him?

- He's possessed."

Wong joined them in hurry. Peter was on all four, looking at them with anger. He opened his mouth. A loud scream came out. He jumped on them again. Wong and Strange flattened him on the ground.

"Find something to cinch him!"

Tony found an old metallic chained and jailed him into it. The three of them made sure he wasn't able to escape.

"What do we do now ? Asked Tony.

- I will try to contact him."

Strange began incantations.

"Show us your real form."

Peter shouted again. A black matter came out to him. It was monstrous. It screamed to them and disappeared.

"Ok. This demon is a Guilty. He uses guilt to possess persons.

- How do we bring it out of Peter's body ?

- We can't. Peter must find the way.

- So we just watch?!"

Something knocked on the wall. Stronger and stronger.

"We must do something !

- I agree. Are you familiar with astral projection?

- Of course not, you crazy ass !

- Well it's the time to open your mind. I'll send you right in the kid's mind.

- And what do I do then ?

- You persuade him he is innocent."

Tony opened his mouth but Strange yelled in his unknowned language and he passed out.

When he opened his eyes, he was out of the house. A storm raged on it. He ran to the front door. It was closed. He destroyed it with his foot.

"Peter ?!"

Everything in the house was upside down. People were walking in it. Men, women, doing usual daily activities. A young woman crossed the body of an old man. She just went through him.

Tony breathed. He calmed down. Now wasn't the time to freak out. He walked slowly between the human forms. They seemed to notice him but not each other.

He went upstairs. The stairs disappeared as he walked in it.

"What the fuck..."

When he reached to Peter's door, he saw another room. It was a child room, filled with toys. A very young Peter was holding hands with a couple. He really looked like the man.

"Hello Mr Stark."

Peter's kid voice was soft, but his face distorted in a giant smile. The same smile was on the parent's visage. The floated to Tony. He closed the door and went to his room.

It wasn't his anymore. There was clothes everywhere, a desk and a computer. The ladder was anyway in the middle of the room. Peter was sitting on the bed. He looked exactly like the day of their first meeting, except he didn't have eyes. There was only two black holes. Blood flew on his cheeks. In front of him, a man was smiling. Tony recognised uncle Ben from pictures.

The black holes fixed Tony. The blood covered Peter's teeth while he smiled. They didn't move.

Tony entered slowly the room. He grabbed the ladder and reached to the attic.

"The last one... He whispered."

Peter was sitting where they cinched him. May was sitting behind him, playing with his hair. Ben and the parents arrived. This time, Peter smile was normal.

"Meet my family Tony. I am happy here. With them."

Tony swallowed.

"They are not real Peter. Come with me. We must leave this place.

- I can not Tony. I'm right where I belong.

- No... Come with me ...

- Where ?!"

Peter stood up.

"In a place where I am the reason my relatives died ?"

The fake Parker family whispered.

"Why did you do it to us... We loved you... You did it...

- Don't listen to them. They are not your family ! You didn't kill anybody !

- How could you know ?!

- Your parents died in a plane crash !

- To come home because I wanted to see them !

- You didn't caused the crash ! It is only bad luck ! Your aunt had cancer ! You can't think this is your fault !

- She would have take a better care of herself he she didn't have to look over me !"

Peter became bigger and bigger. A black shadow surrounded him.

"And your uncle...

- I met the guy ! I met the guy who shot him a few minutes before ! I could have stop him !

- Why did you do that to us ? We loved you, we loved you.

- This is madness you couldn't know!

- So tell me why Tony ?! Why should I go back in a world were everyone who loves me die ?

- It's not true ! You haven't done anything wrong ! You are a good person ! Bad things happened to you and this is crap but you didn't cause their death !"

Shadow Peter groaned while the other shapes were still whispering.

"I know you wouldn't harm anyone ! Especially not someone who loves you !

- And how could you know Tony?"

The voice was loud and creepy. Tony took a step closer to it.

"The same way I can tell that you are not Peter. Because I love you."

The wood cracked on Tony's left. He saw kid Peter looking at him with huge brown eyes.

"Do you ?"

His voice was soft and trembling. Tony kneeled before him.

"I do. I love you.

- Like daddy does ?

- Not exactly."

The kid grew up. It was an adolescent. He still had his eyes. And no blood on his face.

"Like uncle Ben? Or aunt May ?

- No. Not really.

- Not as strong as they did ?

- Not... Not the same way."

Peter was twenty again. Tony noticed shadow Peter was regressing. He put his hand on twenty years old Peter's chest.

"Listen to me. You didn't kill anyone."

Peter looked at the shadows.

"I killed them..."

The fake family talked louder.

"Why did you do it to us ? We loved...

- Enough, Tony stopped them."

He smiled at his Peter and faced the monsters.

"You killed us Peter ! You...

- I said enough ! You all shut the fuck up. You're not even ghosts."

They whisted. Shadow Peter stepped back. Tony looked at the real Peter again.

"I'm in love with you for a few years now. You didn't hurt me. I didn't die. I won't until a long time. And even if I die prematurely, it wouldn't be your fault. You aren't guilty Peter. Stop blaming yourself for what happened to others."

Peter was crying.

" I could have... Save them...

- How ? Tell me how ? You were a kid wanting to see his parents. You couldn't change it. This is normal. You're uncle was in the wrong place at the wrong moment. How could you know ? You didn't invent cancer treatment at twenty years old. How could you be blamed for it ?

- I...

- It's time Peter."

The world was collapsing around them. The shadows were small and agitated. There was not more ground or floor. The house was in pieces, turning slowly around them.

"What time is it Mr Stark ?

- Time to forgive yourself."

Everything disappeared. Tony fell for entire minutes until he touch something. He straightened. Wong was looking at him. Strange had Peter in his arms.

"What happened ?

- The demon came out of his body. Steven aspired him in a bottle. He looks over the kid now."

Tony joined Strange. Peter was pale.

"He is... He isn't...

- He is alive. Asleep. You should carry him to bed. I have something to do with this demon."

He pointed the bottle shaking on the floor. Tony didn't care anymore. He lifted Peter's body to his own room. He lay next to him on the bed.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm his heartbeat. His fingers were laced with Peter's. He didn't know how much time he looked at the roof before hearing Peter mumbled.

"You're awake, he asked slowly.

- Yeah...

- How do you feel ?

- Relieved."

Peter put his head on Tony's chest.

"I'm so sorry Mr Stark...

- Everything is alright Sweetheart.

- I... This thing was in me...

- Yeah. From the beginning. But now, it won't hurt you anymore. Even if it does, we'll destroy it.

- Holy shit Mr Stark... What exactly happened ?

- What do you remember?

- The attic. I went there. I saw the shadows. Then you came. It's blurry. I remember sadness, joy. Relief. My body guests so bad...

- We chained you."

Peter headed up.

"You what ?

- The spirit was in your body, and you attacked me. So we chained you."

Peter laughed out and loud. Tony joined him.

"Mr Stark ?

- Yes Peter ?

- Let's promess we won't go in vacation before a long time.

- I swear."

They enjoyed eachother's heat and were just happy.

"I... I remember something else.

- What is it ?

- What you said... You said you lov...

- Hush. We will have this conversation when you'll be twenty-one.

- But ..."

Tony rolled over to top Peter. Peter blushed. Tony cuddled his cheeks. His lips approached the young man below him.

"It must stay secret for now. Do you understand?"

Peter nodded weakly.

"I'll say it again to you in a few months. You will answer then."

He nodded again.

"For now..."

Tony licked his lips. His tongue touched Peter's lips. The boy moaned.

"We'll have to settled with that..."

He joined their lips. Peter was nearly begging for his tongue to meet his. Tony kissed him deeply, with his full heart. Peter grabbed his shirt. He didn't know how he would be content with this only kiss.

Thank you for reading ! :D

Have a nice spooky time !

[nomadmilk]

Big Break (Peter Parker x F!Reader) - Part 5

Summary: It’s difficult working as CEO of Stark Industries, even if it was temporary. Stress has gotten the better of you, and so has Parker’s. Together, somehow, you guys find a way to escape your busy work lives.

Total Word Count: 10838 (Split into parts).

RATING: T+

Warnings: Oh -um - slightly drunk/slightly tipsy Peter due to drinking. Swearing, erm... Just Peter being adorable again. Fluuuff.

Author’s Note: I did a little research on whether Peter Parker could actually get drunk, and there was one instance in the comics he does... I’m still pinning the fact that he’s still human at the end of the day so, he might be Spider-Man, but he is still a human being... Apologies in advance if anyone’s strict about that... But I enjoyed writing this part too 😁😁 Enjoy!! And thank you!!

Peter hangs your bag on a peg; the toy frog still peeking out of it.

You’re in front of him, sauntering forwards a little to look at the scope of things. One arm slightly aches from holding your evening groceries, and the other holding a lukewarm sandwich close to your mouth. You hadn’t taken a bite out of it for a while. You ask Peter where to place the bought goods, and he responds with taking them away and prepping them in the kitchen.

“I’ll take care of this.” He says, opening the cupboards and lifting out a couple of bowls and a few wine glasses. He checks them for any marks or smudges before setting them down on the side. “Feel free to have a look around. Make yourself at home”

You hear clinks and soft thuds in the kitchen as you hook your jacket on the back of the entrance door, careful to not drop your food from your grip. “Is it alright if I take off my heels?”

He directed you to a row of shoes next to the door, and you set your own accordingly. He pivots round with a popcorn filled green bowl, and another with chocolates and sweets, heading towards the couch. “Bathroom’s around the corner. Aunt May’s is the one next to it.”

“And this is your bedroom?” You say, already peering into the last available room, switching on the light to reveal it. It was small, with lots of blue shades. Dated screens and controls lied in the corner on top of a desk. There was a wooden ribbed closet, and a laundry basket, and a short shelf of books. Straight ahead of you, was a wide open window frame displaying the city.

“Y/N, do you want anything to drink?”

You took a final bite of your sandwich. “Just a glass of the Merlot. The other bottle is for your Aunt.”

“By the way, that’s not really my room.” Peter perches on the sofa. “Aunt May always cleans my room before I come over, so please judge that at face value.”

The comment makes you giggle and roll your eyes at Peter; he grins with teeth bare. He took hold of a remote and directed it towards the TV screen. The screen itself flashes to an animated film part way through.

It was interesting being beside Peter, and seeing where he grew up; going to see his high school, and now at his Aunt’s apartment, and even going to a convenience store he frequently went to. As you observed him through sightseeing everything, it was seeing him content with everything. The way he spoke, and the way he glanced at everything was endearing to see. You’ve seen Peter in relief from exhaustion, mentally and physically, but never in nostalgia.

You join him in the couch, crossing your legs. You notice he’s poured out a couple of glasses of wine; you choose one. “So what are we doing whilst we wait for May?”

He picks up the last available glass of the table. “She should be back soon. Y-you wanna’ talk about anything?”

Finishing a sip of your drink, something catches your eye. “Are those your glasses?” You pick them up.

“Oh. No. They’re probably Aunt May’s. That might be a new pair, cause’ the colour is different, and it doesn’t have the ch-“

Wearing the glasses, you had aligned yourself towards him. Your complexion was clear, and your eyes were gleaming through the frames. Your smile made your lips soft, that Peter felt conscious of his own. Your blouse and skirt is fit to your figure, and as you shifted in your spot, Peter adjusted himself. Did he look cool enough? Was he being too close to you? Or not close enough? Was he being creepy? He hoped he wasn’t.

“Oh, God.” You say, removing the glasses and squinting your irises back to normal. “No offence to your Aunt, but her eyesight seems pretty bad.”

He misses the glasses on you already.

“I-uh-it-I’m sure she doesn’t mind. Much. Or at all.” He swallows a large gulp of his drink.

The glasses back in their place, you leant towards him, and he reciprocates. “Peter, why am I meeting your Aunt? I mean, what are we doing here?”

You see him scratch his head, laughing off his nerves. “I, uh, wanted to take you somewhere, like a fancy restaurant, or buy you something nice… But, I knew you’ve been almost everywhere, and what ever you wanted to have you got cause’ you worked hard for it, y’know…”

Being temporary CEO did have its perks; the money was more than good, and travelling, despite it being mainly for business, was pretty opportunistic.

“So, I thought you’d just want to relax. You showed me somewhere special to you, and Aunt May’s home is mine.” Peter says, looking at you.

He takes a swig of his drink, clearing his throat, beating himself up a little inside; he should have just taken you to a restaurant.

“Thank you, Peter.” You say, a hand to his knee jolts him as much as your words. “It was sweet that you gave me a tour around the place you grew up. And you really didn’t need to think about that favour that much.”

Hesitating a simper, Peter had emptied his glass and poured himself another. He then offered you a top-up, of which you accepted in delight. You grab the bowl of popcorn. “So, who keeps the Lego sets? Is it you, or Ned? Cause’ I don’t think I’ve seen any of them with you.”

“Oh. Right!” Peter perks up. “Ned keeps most of them. I asked Mr Stark if I could put some in my lab.”

“I heard about that. Did you really think it was a good idea to put your life-size baby dinosaur near your lab doors?”

“Yes. It took twelve hours…”

The evening filled with as much conversation as you and Peter had wine. The room felt warm so Peter made himself comfortable by discarding his hoodie. His fingers combed through his hair as he spoke about the start of his internship with Stark Industries, and his eyes dart away when he glances at you. The TV becomes background noise and, as you chat about each other’s high school education, glasses are replenished until the bottle became hollow.

Peter then stood from the couch, and slid a Star Wars disc into the DVD player, completing a joke with a punchline that made you laugh some more. The conversation’s focus shifted to the TV screen. With a little stumble, he made his way back to the couch, where your legs had lifted and bent onto the cushions. He takes hold of your calves, tickling you a bit, and settles them onto his lap as you idly watch the movie. You talk about lightsabers, munching on popcorn, hoping that Stark Industries’ next secret project was Luke Skywalker’s Jedi weapon… Or Obi Wan’s… Or Mace Windu’s…

They’d be non-lethal, of course. And, the real ones would be kept in Peter’s lab.

Peter is a lightweight; he was giggling constantly, grinning stupidly. His eyes were glazed in bliss. His speech was slurring, and he’d frequently ramble, and occasionally stop mid-sentence. He was stroking your legs lightly as you laid them on top of him. You don’t think he noticed his actions that much, but the feel of his hands rubbing against your stocking covered skin was sensual, and weirdly comforting at the same time.

Peter murmurs something intangible.

“Peter?” You scoot to him, missing his touch. “Are you okay?”

Still hearing mumbles, you scoot closer some more, carefully removing your legs off of him to not disturb him too much. “Peter?”

His head rests on top of the sofa’s armrest. He moves his neck, looking down at you, his eye lids half closed. “I wish I could kiss you sober.”

You froze at his words. His eyes still lingering at you, unfazed. “God, I really want to kiss you.”

The longer his eyes stayed on you, the more you felt a beat get more distinctive in your chest.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks.

You nod, and a grin formed on his face, his eyelids close slowly. “Would you kiss me back?”

In terms of your inhibition levels, things were fine. You had taken your time with you glasses of wine that it had given you a little buzz. But it had wavered, and it was coming to your senses; you should be giving him some water, maybe a sick bowl, a blanket, perhaps…

“Yes, Peter, I would kiss you back.” You say.

“I really like you.” Peter says, sounding like a deep hum. “Do you like me back?”

“Yeah, Peter, I like you too.”

Hearing a faint snore, you realise you had been staring at his sleeping visage.

Aunt May arrived fifteen minutes later, seeing you place a blanket onto a couch. She sees Peter’s brown tresses turn to reveal his face in slumber. As you hear a lock turn, you face towards the noise’s direction. You apologise immediately, in a whisper, tip-toeing around a sleeping Peter, introducing yourself, and extending a hand for a handshake. Her hands are wet.

She shook your hand, keeping to the same volume as you. “You work with Peter, don’t you?”

“Yeah-“

“Ah! Temporary CEO, erm, Y/N, right?” She took off her coat, hanging it on a peg. It was soaked. “It’s really great to finally meet you. Peter’s mentioned you more than a few times.”

“Oh-“

“I mean-, he’s mentioned you, not too much – not like he talks about you too less, either – he talks about you when you’re mentioned. Basically.”

You started to realise where Peter’s super polite, yet awkward, mannerisms came from.

“Oh, God.” She wipes droplets off of her forehead. “I’m such a bad Aunt. Let me start again. I’m May, Peter’s Aunt.”

“It’s really nice to finally meet you.”

“Did he get you some food? He’s a grown man, I know, but I still don’t know if he’s actually good at being hospitable.”

“Yes, he’s been great. I think he’s just drunk a little bit too much.” You chuckle, unhooking your coat. “I’m really sorry, but I should go. Happy’s outside to take me home.”

She was approaching the kitchen, starting to lay out pots and pans on top of the stove. Surprisingly, the clatter doesn’t wake Peter up. “Are you sure? I can make you some meatloaf, I’m sure Peter’s told you about-“

In haste, you graciously decline. “I’m really sorry. I’d love to, but I really have to go. I’ve got a busy schedule tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s fair.” Turning to you, she places her hands on her hips. “Well, be careful out there. It’s raining.”

[khruseos]

Tag drop: Peter Parker (TASM)

[nomadmilk]

Big Break (Peter Parker x F!Reader) - PART 2

Summary: It’s difficult working as CEO of Stark Industries, even if it was temporary. Stress has gotten the better of you, and so has Parker’s. Together, somehow, you guys find a way to escape your busy work lives.

Total Word Count: 10838 (Split into parts).

RATING: T+

Warnings: Fluff. Mild swearing. Mild sexual suggestive themes... Peter being his adorkable self

Author’s Note: Work is definitely going to keep me busy... I’ve been writing nonstop, and I’ve used up a day just to recharge... But I made sushi today, so that’s pretty cool... Also, thank you for reading ☺️ And, enjoy!!

You made a promise to Pepper as an assistant to make sure everything remains the same when she gets back. The company needed to run as if she hadn’t left her post. You made sure Happy was up to par with security checks and the deliveries, anything that needed to be signed was given straight to Mrs Stark with a response warning of up to a week, you directed board meetings and had to shut all the smirking members up with your ability to actually run a company.

Well, that, and Tony Stark seems to occasionally be eavesdropping to make sure you weren’t upset by any of them. And even when he misread the situation, he’d appear in a Skype call just to check in.

He trusts you, not everyone else.

It wasn’t just businessmen that he was wary of. He invited you to his garage for a short talk. You thought it was to remind you about maintenance with his cars, but something else was concerning him.

“Could you do one more thing for me?” He asked. You shifted in your seat. “Could you look after him?”

“The… baby?” You answered. A silly response when you looked back on it.

“No. Peter Parker. Could you make sure he’s not, y’know, doing something stupid.”

“Oh. Um. Yes, of course.” You coughed. “I’m sorry, but what-what does this entail?”

As the months went, and the Starks went on a break, you gradually learnt what taking care of Peter Parker was.

You were walking with him. It’s about four in the afternoon, but it is Winter so New York’s street lights were bright against the jet sky, and the breeze was making the night colder than it should be. Peter wasn’t smart about what he wore so he was beside you shivering every so often. You chuckled every time you offered him a resolve.

Peter was stubborn in the most particular times, but you knew a couple of techniques to loosen him up.

“The shops haven’t closed yet, Peter, we could get you a scarf and hat and gloves-“

“No, I’m okay, really-“

“They might give you an Avenger’s discount.”

Peter rolled his eyes, hedging away from laughing. “What are we doing out here?”

You step in front of him, and the gleam in your eyes set him at ease. He’s nervous about what you’re going to say, but your expression makes his irritation with the cold dissipate. You were appropriately layered; a thick, large blazer coat, kept you so warm that there was a pink hue to your cheeks. Peter has to remind himself that this outing was still a professional ordeal for the both of you; he doesn’t want to ruin that. Your work heels were swapped to some trainers that were left in your office locker, but looked odd against your blouse and pencil skirt. Peter found you adorable, but you didn’t need to know that either.

… Was this a date?

“We’re here.”

There’s a pause before he rips his eyes off of you to pay attention. You two stood in front of an all-night amusement and arcade building, still blearing with neon lights. Might not be the best for Peter’s senses, but the look of wonder it gave him was priceless.

“Used to come here when I was younger.” You began. “They have the usual zombie shooters, and normal water shooters, and whack-a-moles...”

Another gust of wind blew against your backs, and you felt a drop of rain on your face.

“Has a couple gems in there too.”

“Like what?” Peter asked.

“Galaga. Space Invaders… There used to be a Super Mario, but I think that got unplugged. Oh! They even have Tetris. The non-flashy kind.”

Droplets began landing on Peter’s quaffed locks. Why was he hesitating? Those titles were temptation enough. He must be still worrying about the suit, or his responsibilities to the Avengers, or maybe a couple of personal projects. You see his brown irises look at you, then back behind him.

As the rain starts to pour, you lead him towards a decision. He’s slightly startled as you took him by the hands. Whether or not it was your smile again, or the way your hands felt small in his, he didn’t know how to react but to follow you. “Come on, Peter. I promise everything that you’ve been working on will still be there when we get back-“

“Y/N-“

“And,” you continue, “there’s a Duckhunt high score just waiting to be beat.”

Peter bites the bait finally grinning from ear-to-ear. You cheer, and this makes him more eager to go inside. “Fine, fine, a couple of hours. Tops.”

This was the first time that you and Peter spent time together out of hours. When you started your job, you guys would talk about agendas on everything going on the Avengers compound. Eventually, when Pepper was nearing her maternity leave, after making sure you were thoroughly taught the processes of Stark industries, she handed the reigns to you. The workload became strenuous. Despite this, meeting Peter Parker became a regular event, especially when Tony let Peter take over his responsibilities. You always wanted to hang out with Peter, without the other suited colleagues around the corner or tasks hindering the time, but it wasn’t anything high on your priority list. It was just nice chatting with him, especially with everyone else ten years, or more, your senior.

Now, here you two were spraying water at a screen with monsters that melt from the touch of it, and laughing at the probability on who could get the toy frog with a hat out of the claw machine. It was nice seeing him laugh, as you usually meet him with his bewildered visage. It’s a refreshing, and delightful change. He’s great-looking with a smile.

After a while, it wasn’t you dragging Peter all over the place, it was him ushering you over to play indoor mini adventure golf.

You won, of course. That, and Peter kept having his hands stuck to the putter.

You both got back to the claw machine with the frog in it. He bowed to you in your victory.

“As your prize, Lady Y/N, “ Peter pronounced his words, “I will win you this most prestigious reward.”

“Oh, Sir Parker,” you gasp, “this is a dangerous feat. How could you possibly-“

“Fear not, my lady, anything is possible for you.”

You had to clear your throat for that comment, watching him place his palms on the joystick and buttons of the claw machine. As you wished him luck, he inserts a quarter, and the machine chimes to life. He was concentrating on the claw, his hands clammy but still functioning on the control panel. You observe the claw yourself; you see it go left, swing a little, and come towards the two of you. You hear a tap of a button, and the claw descends down.

“Oh my, God, Peter, I think you might just get it.”

He glances to the side of him, distracted by you. Your eyes hadn’t noticed him, as yours were still intent on the toy frog. His face wasn’t far away from yours, and you were just biting your bottom lip slightly. You let go of it, and Peter saw your mouth return to its full plump size.

He lost the frog.

You cursed under your breath. “So close! We cannot free them today, my knight.”

Noticing the silence, you face him. He’s still staring at your lips.

“Peter?”

He snaps out of his trance, laughing uncertainly, “Sorry, I couldn’t get it for you.”

His bashfulness makes you laugh. For a superhero, he still has a knack for being awkward. “It’s not a problem, Peter.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“For what?”

“This.” His head gestures to the machine in front of him, a emoticon flashing bright teeth from the background of it. “I’ve just been too overworked. I know I’ve been doing his job for a while, but Mr Stark is retiring, he wants me to step up, and I want to, it’s just-… What if I’m not right for the job? If I can’t do it, I mean, I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“There’s a lot of pressure on you, but you’ll get there.” You say, your lips in a hopeful simper. “I’m sure he doesn’t want you to rush, he just wants you to be ready. I mean, if you have that much doubt, you do know you can back out whenever. Tony’ll understand.”

“I don’t want to back out from this.”

“So, even with the pressure, and the choice of quitting, you want to stay?”

You see Peter take a deep breath, and survey you, a knowing look on your face. You knew Peter’s philosophy of power and responsibility all too well.

“You’re too good for this world, Peter.” You brush a hair away, glancing at him. “And, I just, uh, wanted to say – even with everything else going on – it’s been really great to spend time with you.”

“Yeah.” He said. “It’s been awesome.”

“Have you eaten today? There’s a diner nearby we can go to.”

His Spidey senses tingled. “Erm. It’s still raining.”

You point your thumb to a candy machine, smirking. “So you want me to suck on a lollipop because you’re afraid of a little rain?”

Peter blinked. His heart began racing. Why’d he have to think about you sucking on-

“Do they have pancakes?” Was all Peter could muster.