#also i think spiderman should have been held back in high school. due to struggles relating to being spiderman

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about superheroes unfortunately

[s1ater]

different type of game, part one. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which eli moskowitz is a popular hockey player, but to reader he was just a boy tory nichols had history with. but eli’s trying to erase that history, and what better way then trying to get with her best friend?

warnings 🚫: mentions of sex, swearing, vulgar language, drinking, tory and reader have a “funny” relationship, no mohawk eli‼️

slater’s note 🗯: i saw a video of hockey jacob, so this kind of inspired this fic. also is it wrong that i lowkey ship tory and hawk?

part one, part two

“hockey boys are fun, always a good fuck.”

“jesus, tory.”

“what?” she out called innocently, leaning back from the boarder separating the two of you from the ice, “it’s true.”

“oh yeah?” you quirked a brow to tory, leaning away from the boarder as well and making your way to the entrance onto the ice.

you really wondered if tory thought about the words that came out of her mouth before they actually came out of her mouth.

the two of you had been watching the high school hockey team practice with the rest of your figure skating team when her words just popped into the air.

“yes.”

“who have you fucked?”

it’s silent, meaning either tory hadn’t followed you onto the ice and didn’t hear you or she was stumped.

she never got stumped, only with you really, and it was because you knew how to contradict her without fear, unlike others who would rather keep their mouths shut then receive a blade to the face from the stupid spike bracelet she kept around her wrist at all times.

you slightly glanced back, trying to see if she was following you, “tory? who’d you fuck?”

the skating rink smelt of sweat and blood, making scrunch up your nose slightly as you got farther to the center. it hadn’t ever mattered how early you got to the rink, it always smelled like that, even before the hockey practices.

“no one.”

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes, turning the heal off your skate to face her. you knew she was lying then.

“what?”

“tory,” you dumbfounded, “who’d you have sex with?”

it was like she was cowering away from you, as if you were about to hit her or something and you didn’t get it.

“c’mon.”

“fine,” she nipped at her lip, eyes sliding along the ice, “miguel diaz.”

and you almost gasped, eyes widening, “tory,” but you kept it in, your hand reaching for her, almost asking her if she was serious, “no way, the kids a dork.”

“shut up, no he’s not.”

“yes he is!” you almost laughed, “he’s friends with those other dweebs, y’know? the lip kid and uh-“

“demetri?”

“yes!”

“y/n, you’re stupid,” it was her turn dead stare you in the eyes with a disappointed glare in her irises, “that was freshman year, two years ago, a lot happens in two years- god haven’t you ever seen eli shotgun? he does it at almost every party.”

“eli?”

“lip kid.”

“oh.. huh?”

tory rolled her eyes as if she was done with your shit, “he has the rough red hair, almost looks pink... uh, hot, number 20 on the hockey-“

you gasped, it all suddenly clicking in your head, “that’s him?”

“yes, that’s him.”

tory looked at you as if you were stupid, her face blank but harsh, it almost made you laugh, but you held it in, allowing a small snide smile slide across your lips, “how was he?”

“miguel?”

“no, eli,” you rolled your eyes, “yes, tory, the one you had sex with.”

“oh...” her teeth sunk into her bottom lip once again. her cool and rude exterior seemed to have disappeared real quick in replace of nervousness, “what if i told you i fucked the both of them?”

°•

it was a late friday night, ten minutes after practice when you felt rushed by tory’s phone call.

“y/n, where are you?”

“tory, where are you?” you were struggling with the phone pressed up to your ear as you tried your best to pull off skates and balance yourself up.

it was nine thirty at night, practice had just gotten over and there was no sign of tory at all throughout the night.

it always seemed as though tory was a slacker, didn’t show up for school, but always showed up to figure skating practice. she always said it was her ticket to a better life, especially with finals coming up. so it was weird for her to ditch out.

“y/n, it’s larusso’s party tonight, it started half an hour ago,” you could hear an annoyance in her tone, “you said you would meet me here.”

you closed your eyes tightly, it suddenly all coming back to you. you had promised her to be her safety buddy for the night just in case any weirdos came around harassing up on her.

“fuck, tory, i forgot,” you lightly slapped your forehead as if scolding yourself, sitting down in one of the arena seats, “i’ll be there soon, practice just ended.”

“you better be,” her voice erupted through your phone speaker, “i’ve been talking to stingray for the half hour, i’m gonna shoot myself before i have another drink.”

you rolled your eyes at the exaggeration that came from her mouth, “shut up.”

and you hung up the phone.

°•

you squinted up at the large larusso home. everyone knew daniel larusso as the ex-hockey-player-valley-championship-winner-now-super-rich-car-salesman. the people of LA worshiped the man.

trekking up the front lawn you could already smell the booze that was practically leaking past the front door.

“finally, you made it,” tory’s arm slung over your shoulder the moment you walked in, her hand shoving a red solo cup in your own, “drink up, long night ahead.”

you narrowed your brows, looking to her a bit confused at her tense posture. she should have been loosened up more, especially with how much alcohol she probably drunk.

“you alright?” you quirked a brow while taking a drink of the sour tasting liquid that you found hard forcing down your throat.

you winced, slightly tilting your head before throwing back some more into your mouth.

“nothing, just kinda... bored.”

“shut up, no you’re not.”

“can we go sit down?”

she was moving before you could say ‘yes’ and moving pretty fast as she swerved herself around the clumps of people littering the living room.

she sat down on a couch in the corner, her hands sitting gently on her lap making your brows close in on each other even more. it didn’t make sense as to why she was being so... awkward.

it was like her heart was racing and her eyes were moving fast, looking from one place to another, like she was paranoid, looking for someone.

“tory, are you on drugs?” you asked, placing your hand close to her as you took a seat next to her on the nice leather couch.

you could barely see her face by the way the only thing illuminating her features were the cheap tacky disco lights set in all the corners of the room.

“no, y/n,” she shook her head, eyes squinting slightly, “fuck you, no, i just need something to drink.”

“water?”

“sure.”

“okay,” you nodded slightly, leaning away from her and standing up, “i’ll get you some.”

she stayed silent, not even watching you walk away but her attention being drawn toward the group of kids beginning to dance in the center of the room.

it was unsettling seeing her so on edge, so strange, it made you uncomfortable due to tory being the usual life of a party. it was so unlike her.

you grabbed one of the solo cups stacked on the counter, biting on your lip as you thought more and more about why tory would be in the mood that she was in.

you couldn’t think of anything as you leaned up on the counter, your hand reaching for the ice as you shoveled it into the red plastic cup.

maybe she was mad you were late or maybe something had happened to her while you were at practice or maybe-

“you’re tory’s friend, right?”

you looked up, pausing your actions of pouring ice into the cup. your eyes met a pair of blue ones, studying you.

“uh, yeah,” your eyebrows were furrowed again, slightly confused as to who you were looking at...

red hair, rough red hair fading into pink...

eli.

your face dropped from its confusion and you were then trying your best to bite back a wave of amusement that begun filling your stomach.

“you’re on the figure skating team too, aren’t you.”

“yeah, are you?”

he scoffed, slight amused taking a drink of the solo cup he held in his hand, “no, hockey team. don’t think i’m nimble enough to do figure skating.”

your eyes raked his body, “hm, i think you could probably pull it off.”

you now leaned away from the counter, sliding further down to the other side where the bottle of waters were. eli followed you slightly on the other end of the marble counter.

“you’re flattering, really.”

“i try to be,” you begun dumping the contents of one of bottles you picked up into the cup, your eyes not meeting his but rather focused on what you were doing.

“y/n? that’s your name, right?”

“yeah, how’d you know?” you still didn’t look up, not really interested in the fact that he knew your name.

“not hard to know about something when you really wanna know about it.”

you looked up then, watching him drink the contents of his drink as he slightly analyzed you, wanting to see your reaction.

“you’re funny...” you mumbled, as if what he said was a joke, but you knew it was a joke, you were just confused, your eyebrows slightly raised.

“thanks.”

you didn’t know what to say, but you really wanted to say something as you stared at him and he stared back, waiting.

you didn’t know what to say.

and you wanted to think that he didn’t know what to say either but you knew better than to think that a boy like him didn’t have a million things to say, all things that could stump you even more, make you flustered, make you embarrassed, make you red in the cheeks. 

a million things to say, but yet he stood silent, as if waiting for you to say the first words to allow him to pounce. 

masterlist

taglist 🗞:

join my taglist mf

@bigbilliamdenbro @axastasiasstuff @spiderman-berries @alexmercer-reginaldpeters @teti-menchon0604 @lydiaamphlett @notyourfuckingbusinesss @estupidteen @torynicholsgf @nessa1107 @carpioassists @vhscherry @simplytpwk @sinicalh4wk

[abbyilr1967]

Out of Time

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Peter and Y/n have been together since the events of Spiderman Home Coming. One day while on a field trip Y/n and Peter are called into action as strange aliens claiming the be the “Children of Thanos” begin invading New York. (Takes place during Infinity War, Thanos already has the mind stone)

Warnings: Violence, swearing, some fluff if you squint, and ANGST.

~

The morning had begun the same as usual that day. When you got up you had a good morning text waiting for you from Peter, little did you know that today was going to be way out of the ordinary.

You and Peter were sitting together on the bus during a school field trip when his spidey senses told him that something was very wrong. You both start frantically looking out the bus windows to find the source of the distress.

“Y/n,” Peter tapped you to get your attention. “Over there,” he says pointing at the giant ring-shaped ship floating above New York.

“Oh god,” you reply. You turn to Ned and start tapping him to get his attention. “Ned, we need you to cause a distraction,”

“I’m on it,” He replies. “We’re all gonna die!” he shouts.

As everyone moves to the back of the bus to get a look at the space ship, Peter flings himself off the bus to put his suit on, while you jump out the bus window using the jet booster your father Tony put in your shoes to fly towards the city, while the watch your father also built you is reconstructing your iron suit onto you.

You and Peter both arrive downtown as your Dad and Bruce are trying to fight off this massive alien that looks like it came straight out of a sci-fi novel. The creature backhands your Dad into next week and before you can react, Peter is already there to block the next blow. Next thing you know, a flash of blue and red flies past you.

“Y/n!” your Dad calls to you. “That’s the wizard, go save him!” he shouts.

“We’re on it,” you say as you and Peter race after him.

You catch up to the wizard and latch onto the metal bars that are tied around him, and use your jet boosters to keep him from being sucked into the space ships tractor beam. Peter uses his webs to latch in as well, but the beam was too strong and pulled both you and Peter towards the ship.

“Mr. Stark, we’re being beamed up,” Peter said through the intercom in his mask.

The tractor beam closed before you and Peter had the chance to enter.

“Let’s find way in,” you say.

“On it,” Peter replies.

Using your suit you fly around the exterior of the ship, while Peter starts searching along the inside of the ring.

“Peter we’re too high, you’re running out of air!” you exclaim through your intercom. Flying back around towards him.

“We need to save the wizard,” he replies sounding short of breath. You stop and anchor yourself to the ship.

“Pete, let go I’ll catch you,” your Dad says.

You watch as Peter slowly has no choice but to let go due to lack of oxygen, he falls, and a part of you wants to scream and fly to his rescue. As Peter is falling he is hit by something, you watch as something begins to coat his suit. It seems to be some sort of metal.

“It smells like a new car in here,” he says excitedly.

“Alright great, F.R.I.D.A.Y. take them home,” and just like that both you and Peter are swept away. But not before Peter had a chance to web him and yourself to the side of the ship.

“Let’s find a way in,” you say.

~

“What are you two doing here?” Tony asks in his angry Dad voice.

“We were just trying to he-”

“Nope. Your mother,” Tony says pointing to you. “And your Aunt,” He says pointing to Peter. “Are going to kill me if they knew you were in space,” he says cutting of Peter in the process.

“This is too big of a fight for you two to be apart of, I don’t know what I’d do with myself if one of you got hurt,” he says concerned.

“How can we be friendly neighborhood heroes, if there’s no neighborhood?” Peter asks.

You and your Dad both look at him weirdly.

“Ok that was bad, but you get what I mean,” he said.

“Peter’s right Dad,” you say as your masks retracted from your face. You look straight into your Dad’s eyes, and he can see that you are not gonna give in easily.

“Fine,” he starts. Your dad motions to knight both you and Peter. “You’re Avengers now,”

You and Peter both look at each other and smile. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you into the air, planting a kiss on your lips after setting you back down.

“Alright, keep all the lovey-dovey stuff at the door, we need a game plan,” the Wizard said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Y/n, and this is Peter,” you say extending your hand out to him.

“Dr. Strange,” he says.

Peter leans over to whisper in your ear, “We’re using our made-up names?” “I guess so,” you say jokingly.

“I’m Spiderman,” he says. You snort as you see the confused expression from Dr. Strange. Peter sees you laughing and shoves your shoulder.

You look over to see your Dad fidget with the control panel of the ship.

“We need to turn this ship around,” DR. Strange said.

“Welp, it’s on auto-pilot, so we are on our way right to Thanos,” Tony says to Dr. Strange.

You and Peter tune out your dad and Dr. Strange as they fight. You pull Peter off to the side as the realization of what you’re about to go through sets in. He could see the distressed look on your face.

“Babe, what's wrong?” he asks.

“I’ve never seen my Dad so worried like this before,” you say nervously. “I think we might be biting off more than we can chew,” you say nervously.

“Hey hey hey hey hey, we’re gonna be fine, when have we ever given up,” he says holding you and stroking your hair.

“You’re right,” you say leaning into his touch. “You always know what to say,”

He gives you a forehead kiss and one last tight squeeze before you go back over to talk strategy.

~

You had crashed onto Titan after a “flawless” landing by Peter and your father. You are awaiting the arrival of Thanos, but when you had arrived on Titan you were ambushed by a group who you thought were working with Thanos. it was only after bickering back and forth that you found out that we were all the same side here. Their names are StarLord, Drax, and Mantis. Your father gathered everyone together to try to work out a plan, to which newbies were skeptical. Once a plan was in place, everyone went to their places, ready to ambush him when he arrived.

That’s when you heard it, the sound of heavy boots stomping onto the planet.

You look over and can see Peter, he locks eyes with you.

“I love you,” you mouth to him.

“I love you too,” he mouths back.

You are waiting for your cue from Dr. Strange who has been talking to Thanos to distract him.

“I’m sure you will find our will much stronger,” and with that you attack.

Your father came rushing in, crashing a building down on top of him. We stood around thinking that he was dead, little did you know, it only made him angrier. He burst out from under the rubble and Peter tries to use his webs to hold him down, but he only used it against him. He pulled Peter towards him and caught him by the throat. Only to them slam him into the ground.

“Tiny insect,” you could he Peter struggling under the weight of Thanos.

“Let him go!’ you shout as you rush toward him with your iron hammer fist ready to punch him.

You go in one punch, but not before he let Peter go, and grabbed your arm instead. Hurdling you across the battlefield. You hit a pile of rubble and struggled to catch your breath and regain your balance. Your vision had gone foggy, but you could see your father in all his rage, fighting Thanos. You got up and could see that they had Thanos is a trance.

“Y/n!” your Dad called. “We almost got it off, come help.”

In an instant, you were right by Peter trying your hardest to pull it off.

That’s when he woke up, threw everyone off of him, and grabbed you.

“No!” you could hear Peter shouting as he took you by the throat.

“So small,” he said. “Barely lived a life, and yet so ready to give everything up to save everyone,” you spit in his face.

“I’d rather die fighting you than sit home doing nothing,” you spat.

“Your wish is my command,” and he squeezed harder. The corners for your vision started to become blurry, and your lungs begin to burn.

“Stop!” you hear Dr. Strange. “I will give you the time stone if you let the girl go,”

“No, don’t” you struggle. “Don’t do it,”

He took a minute to contemplate. “Fine,” he said, throwing you at your father’s feet. Peter comes running over.

“Y/n, baby, your gonna be fine,” he says as he holds you.

You open your eyes and can see just as Dr. Strange is giving the stone to Thanos.

“No,” you sigh.

Just then a wave of power shook the ground, and you saw it. The sheer power that the gauntlet holds. And before any of you could do anything, he snapped.

The world shook. He was gone. And you had a sick feeling in your stomach.

“He’s gone,” your father said quietly.

“It’s my fault,” you said, moving into an upright position. “I should have done more,” you sigh.

“You did enou-” as your father was talking he looks over and Drax, Starlord, and Mantis have turned to dust. This prompted you and Peter to both look over, just in time to see Dr. Strange turn to dust.

“Dad?” you ask panicked.

“You’re going to be fine-,” you Dad started to say. “Peter?” \

“I-I-I don’t feel so good,” Peter said. “Y/n, I-I-,” he stumbled into you. You held him tight, you can feel something in the pit of your stomach.

“I love you,” is the last thing you hear from him before he turns into dust.

“Dad! He’s g-g-gone,” you tried to hold back a sob.

That’s when you felt it. It started in your hands. You looked down with tears in your eyes as you see your hand start to crumble. You look back to your dad.

“Daddy,” you whimper.

And the last thing you saw was the look on your father’s face as his heart broke, and your vision went black.

~

I hope you guys liked this, I know I haven’t been posting a lot, but I got the inspiration for this and couldn’t not write it ❤️

[starryknight09]

Whatever It Takes Ch. 4/?

Summary:  Peter’s struggling to cope after the loss of Mr. Stark. Everyone keeps telling him it’ll get better and that he needs to move on, but Peter doesn’t want to. He can’t envision a life without his mentor. So when an idea comes to him, he doesn’t hesitate, no matter how crazy it is. He’s going to get Mr. Stark back.

“What exactly are we going to do?” Ned asked.

“Whatever it takes.” Peter answered.

Read on AO3

________________________________________________________

“What do you want me to make for dinner?” May asked from the kitchen.

“I’m not hungry.” Peter answered in a monotone as he sat on the couch staring blankly at the television.  It was on but he didn’t have the attention span or the energy to watch it. He had no idea what was even playing.

“You need to eat something.” May argued.  “I know you didn’t eat lunch and all you ate for breakfast was that granola bar I had to force down your throat.”

“I’m not hungry.” He said again, more forcefully.

May sighed heavily and walked back into the living room.  He didn’t turn away from the TV.

“Honey you need to eat.”

Peter kept staring straight ahead.

“Tony wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.” May said. Why was everyone telling him that lately?

“It doesn’t matter what he’d want.  He’s dead.” He said, voice emotionless.  The words should’ve hurt to say but they didn’t.  He was too numb.  Everything felt completely numb.

“Honey.” May said sadly and sat down next to him.  “Look at me please.”

Peter sighed but did as she asked and turned to look at her.

“I know you’re hurting but you still have to take care of yourself.” May said with sad eyes.  “You need to eat.”

She cupped his cheek.  “You’ve been losing weight baby.”

He knew that.  He hadn’t weighed himself but he’d noticed his clothes had started fitting looser.

“I haven’t been hungry.” He argued weakly.

“I know honey and that’s what grief does, but you still have to eat.  If not for yourself, then for me?  Ok? Can you try?”

He nodded.  He hated making her worry about him.

“Thank you.” May smiled.  “Come here.”

She pulled him into a hug and he returned it without hesitation.

“I just miss him.” He whispered the confession into her hair.

“I know.” May whispered back.  

She kissed the side of his cheek and said knowingly, “But it’ll get better.  You know it will.”

He knew they were both thinking about Ben.  About how hard it’d been after his death too.  How neither of them had wanted to eat.  How pretty much every day had been a struggle.  How it had hurt so much it’d felt like slowly burning alive.  But somehow they’d survived it.  It had gotten better.  Peter knew this hurt had to eventually get better too, but he couldn’t make himself believe it.

“Ok.” May said as she let go of him and sat back.  “How about I make spaghetti for dinner?  You like spaghetti.”

She looked so earnest, so hopeful he’d eat.  He couldn’t disappoint her.

“Actually, can we order Thai?” He asked hesitantly.  “It sounds…kind of good.”

May beamed.  “Absolutely. Thai it is.  You want your usual?”

He nodded.  He figured he could choke down some Pad See Ew if it’d make her feel better.

She got up to grab her phone from the kitchen counter and he called softly after her, “Thanks May.”

“No problem sweetie.” She said back.

He and May had started eating Thai after Ben had died. It’d been one of the only foods his uncle hated, so they’d never really eaten it.  It’d been safe from triggering memories.  He was pretty sure it was all they’d been able to stomach for weeks after his death.  And then, over time, it’d become his and May’s thing.  Eating Thai.  He’d almost forgotten that’s how it had started.  It was the same reason he and May never ate fried chicken anymore.  Because it’d been Ben’s favorite.  They never talked about.  They just never ate it again.  He wondered if there were any foods he wouldn’t be able to eat now because they’d remind him too much of Tony.  As soon as he thought it, the answer immediately came to mind.  Shawarma.

He didn’t know how people reasonably expected him to move on when reminders of what he’d lost kept popping up everywhere.  He ached constantly with a phantom pain, like he’d had a limb cut off and forgot he’d lost it until he went to use it again and it was gone.

Something funny would happen at school that he knew Mr. Stark would enjoy and he’d think he needed to tell him about it, but then he’d remember he couldn’t.  He’d never get a chance to tell the man funny stories or hear him laugh again.

After school, he’d walk down the steps and reflexively look for Happy’s car because for a split second he’d forget there’d never be any more workshop evenings or weekends hanging out with Mr. Stark.

He’d pull out his phone on the subway on the way to school in the morning and click on Tony’s name, ready to send him a morning message like he always did, before he’d remember.  No matter how many messages he sent Mr. Stark, he’d never get a reply.  So he’d put his phone away and spend the rest of the ride struggling to hold back tears.

He wondered if Tony had gone through something similar when he’d been gone, but he didn’t have the heart to ask anyone about it. Knowing wouldn’t help anyway, it’d probably only make it hurt worse.

Months passed.

It didn’t get better.

He barely ate except for when someone forced him to.  Food turned to ash in his mouth.  Nothing tasted good.  His appetite remained non-existent.  He spent more days than not dizzy and not quite with it.  He knew he was still losing weight.  His clothes had gone from a little loose to borderline falling off of him. He knew he couldn’t keep going on like this.  But he also didn’t care.

The suffocating loss and memories hounded him all day and the nightmares and insomnia haunted him all night.  He went through the motions at school, somehow keeping his grades up amidst his fog.  It was probably the main reason no one had staged an actual intervention yet.  They probably figured if he could still do well in school, he must not be as bad as he seemed.  He was falling apart, but somehow still keeping it together.  

He spent more and more time out as Spiderman.  He figured if he wasn’t going to sleep, like he hadn’t been able to tonight, he might as well do something useful.  He liked to think it’s what Mr. Stark would’ve wanted. For him to keep fighting the fight. To keep helping people.  When the man couldn’t be there to do it himself.  Or maybe that was just Peter’s wishful thinking to alleviate the guilt he felt whenever he donned the suit Mr. Stark had made for him.

“Peter it is now three hours past the curfew Mr. Stark set for you.” Karen reminded him cheerfully, interrupting his morose thoughts as he sat on the roof ledge of one of the taller buildings in Midtown.  He’d been patrolling all over the city lately instead of exclusively in Queens because he’d been going out as Spiderman more and wanted to help as many people as possible.  It wasn’t at all because he felt an odd magnetic pull toward Mr. Stark’s old Tower.

“I know Karen.” Peter rolled his eyes.  “It’s not like it matters.  There’s no one you can tattletale to anymore.”

Silence in response.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.  

“I recommend you return home to sleep.  Due to your fatigue, your reaction times have been 0.2 seconds slower tonight than usual.  I have noted a gradual progressive increase in this delay over the past week.” Karen told him.  

Sounded about right.  He wasn’t surprised.  It’d been a long night.  A long week really.  He’d barely been sleeping and it was currently three in the morning.

When he didn’t respond, Karen added, “I am concerned for your wellbeing Peter.”  

“Yeah well join the club.” He muttered.  It’s all he heard from everyone lately.  They were worried.  They wanted to talk.  They wanted to help.  And now apparently even the AI in his suit was in on it.

“Your safety is my primary objective.” Karen continued.  “It has not escaped my notice that lately your behavior has become increasingly erratic and you have been taking more unacceptable risks.”

Peter snorted.

“I’m fine Karen.” He lied.

She didn’t give him any sort of rebuttal even though she had to know he was lying.  He didn’t know if that was better or worse.  

He sighed and conceded, “All right.  Fine.  I’m going home.  Happy?”

“Very.” Karen said as he stood.

Could AI’s be ‘very’ happy?  Could they even be happy at all?  Karen sure seemed like she had emotions, but it was probably all just a trick of programming. Mr. Stark’s genius incarnated.

He took a breath and jumped.  He webbed from building to building mindlessly.  Because of the height of the buildings in Midtown, he was so high up it almost felt like flying.  He should like it.  He should feel something.  But he didn’t.  Why couldn’t he feel anything?  He just wanted to feel something.  Anything besides this accursed numbness.

He released his web but instead of shooting off the next one to attach to the subsequent building, he held off.  And let himself fall.

“Peter is there something wrong with your webshooter?” Karen asked after only a second of freefall.

He didn’t respond.  He closed his eyes as his body sliced soundlessly through the air.  He still felt nothing.  No thrill of excitement or enjoyment.  Only the familiar all encompassing numbness.

The ground grew closer.  It happened slowly but fast at the same time.

“Peter.” Karen warned.

Still nothing.  No jolt of fear.

His viewscreen started flashing warnings.  About terminal velocity and how fatal collision was imminent.

“Peter you must deploy your webshooter.” Karen ordered, practically yelling.  He didn’t even know she could do that.

He supposed he should.  He straightened his arm out in front of him.  And hesitated.  He didn’t actually have to.  He could just…not.

He could be done.  Just give up.  He could see Mr. Stark again.  

But May would be sad.  And if he did see Mr. Stark, how could he ever explain himself?  Heroes didn’t kill themselves.  Unless they needed to do it in order to save the world.  And then they called it sacrifice.

“Peter!” Karen yelled in warning.

He gasped.  He didn’t actually want to die.  He didn’t. He fumbled jerkily with his webshooter and managed to shoot it in time to catch onto a nearby building.  As it tightened, the force yanked his shoulder painfully.

He let out a small cry.  But the web held and he swung through the trough of the arc.  As he started swinging back up again, he realized how dangerously close he was to the ground.  There weren’t a lot of options for where to attach another web.  He shot one out frantically at a nearby building but in the next second he saw the trajectory would bring him through an alley to smash straight into a brick wall at the end of it.  

There was only one thing he could do.  

He was moving too fast and only a few feet off the ground as he released his web.  He landed on the asphalt and rolled almost the entire distance of the alleyway before he slammed into a dumpster near the end and came to an abrupt stop.

Ouch.  He groaned. Everything hurt.  But he wasn’t dead.  His chest heaved in huge gulps of air.  He turned his head and saw he’d left a huge dent in the dumpster, nearly crushing it in half.  Sorry New York waste management.

He stayed on his back, gasping, trying to catch his breath like a fish out of water as he stared up at the black night sky.  Karen remained conspicuously silent.  She was probably mad at him.  Her only communication with him was an injury report that flashed across the screen.  He glanced at it briefly and dismissed it.  Nothing life threatening.  His momentary lapse wasn’t going to end up killing him after all.  

Adrenaline fled his body, leaving him shaky, as the reality of what had almost just happened hit him.  He’d almost died.  He’d really almost just killed himself.  Holy shit. His entire body started vibrating with fine tremors as a delayed fear response washed over him.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up past his lips.  He’d almost just died, but he finally felt something for the first time in forever.  Even if that something was terror.  Once the laughter started, he couldn’t seem to get it to stop.  Was this what a mental breakdown felt like?

As he giggled nonsensically at the sky, he realized some part of him was still waiting for Mr. Stark’s fear filled angry phone call. Waiting for the man to tell him he was on his way because he’d gotten hurt.  Waiting for him to tell him off because he’d done something stupid. Again.  But Mr. Stark wasn’t coming.  Because Mr. Stark was gone.  

And it’d been almost six months now since Mr. Stark’s death. Rationally he knew the man was gone. He knew it.  He did.  The moments of forgetting were getting fewer and farther between.  But for some reason it didn’t seem to solidly hit him until now. Until this moment.  

Mr. Stark didn’t know what he’d almost just done and that he was lying here bleeding in an alley.  No one knew.  No one was coming to help him.  Spiderman was all alone.

The crazed laughing caught in his throat and the next second he was crying.  Deep, gut wrenching sobs.  He rolled over onto his side and curled into a ball even though it aggravated his injuries. He cried and cried and cried.

It’d been almost six months, and Peter Parker knew that Tony Stark was gone but this was the moment Spiderman truly realized it as well.

It felt like losing Mr. Stark all over again.

The next night, Peter laid in bed, wide awake.  He’d gone to his room two hours earlier but sleep had evaded him.  He couldn’t patrol because his entire body was still one giant bruise and he was pretty sure he still had a few broken bones and a concussion after his crash into the alley the night before.  

He’d thought about going out anyway but after his brush with death yesterday, going out this injured seemed too close to trying to repeat the same scenario in a different way.  He stared tiredly at the ceiling.  He’d been a zombie all day, unable to focus.  Had he really tried to kill himself last night?  Or had it been a mistake?  A brief error in judgement?

He heard May on the phone in the living room.

“I don’t know what to do Happy.  He’s not coping.  I’ve tried talking to him, but he won’t talk to me.” May said quietly, obviously trying to keep from being overheard.  “It’s been months and he’s not getting any better.  He’s not sleeping.  I can barely get him to eat.  He’s still not-he’s not…Peter.”

May fell silent.  Happy was probably saying something back.  Peter rolled over and tried to bury his head under his pillow.  He didn’t want to hear this.  Stupid super hearing.  May knew he had it, but she probably thought he was asleep.  Rightly so.  He should be asleep.  He wished he could sleep.  He hated this new insomnia that had plagued him ever since the battle with Thanos.  

At first he’d wondered if it was a side effect of coming back from the snap, a result of some kind of mistake when his molecules had coalesced back together again.  But no one else had a similar problem.  Ned still slept like a baby.  So he knew it wasn’t from that.  It had to be from the trauma of everything, which was also probably the reason why what little sleep he did get now was usually nightmare ridden.

“I know.  I know. I just…I don’t know how to help him.” He heard May say and he could hear the tremble in her voice.  She was trying not to cry.  God.  He sat up and grabbed his headphones off his nightstand.  Before he could hear anything else he plugged them into his phone and started blasting his music, washing out any more of her conversation.

He told himself it was because she deserved her privacy, not because he didn’t need any more guilt piled onto him for things he couldn’t seem to help.

He closed his eyes and tried in vain to fall asleep as the music pounded in his ears.

Peter laid on the couch, watching something mindless on TV. He wasn’t even sure what it was.  May had been watching it before she left for work and once he’d flopped down on the couch after breakfast, he’d been too exhausted to search for the remote to change it, so he’d just left it on.  Fatigue plagued him.  The three hours of fragmented sleep he’d gotten last night definitely hadn’t been enough.

Whatever the show was, it was boring.  He closed his eyes.  Maybe he could rest on the couch.  Maybe a change in scenery would make a difference and he’d be able to sleep here. But the moment he decided to try it, someone knocked on the door.

Peter ignored it.  He wasn’t expecting anyone.  A delivery person probably had the wrong apartment.  They’d figure it out.  Half a minute passed and when Peter figured the person had left, the knock came again. Dammit.  He was actually going to have to get up.

He dragged himself to his feet and trudged over to the door. The knock resounded again.

“I’m coming.  I’m coming.” He grumbled as he unlocked the door and opened it.

And came face to face with Happy.

Peter frowned.  “Um…hi?”

“You going to invite me in?” Happy complained, impatient.

“Uh yeah sure.  Come in.” He stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him. “Um did I…know you were coming over? And forget?”

He became keenly aware that he was still dressed in his flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt even though it was almost noon.  He hadn’t brushed his teeth yet either.  Or his hair.  He ran a hand through it, trying to calm the wild waves.

“No kid.  Your aunt asked me to come over.” Happy answered as they both stood awkwardly just inside the doorway.

“She did?  Why?”

“She’s worried about you.” Happy said, not mincing the words.

Right.  May had called Happy last night.  He didn’t think that meant the man would actually come over.

“And how’s that your problem?” Peter scoffed and walked away, back toward the couch.  He didn’t want to have this conversation.  Not with May. Not with Happy.  Not with anyone.

“Because it is.” Happy said, following him.  “Anything to do with you is my problem.”

“Why?” He sniped and flopped heavily back down onto the couch.

“You know why.” Happy answered gravely and Peter looked away.

Happy kept staring down at him from where he stood, arms crossed. If he’d been able to feel anything lately it might’ve made him feel vulnerable, but it didn’t.

“Well don’t worry, I relieve you of any misplaced responsibility you feel towards me.” Peter said.

Happy didn’t move.

“That means you can go.” Peter grit out at him.

“I’m not leaving.” Happy said.

Peter rolled his eyes.  “You know you don’t have to do this.  You don’t have to pretend to care about me all of a sudden out of some kind of stupid guilt complex.”

“I’m not pretending.” Happy replied, sounding angry about it.

“You don’t have to lie to me and you don’t have to do whatever this is.” Peter waved a hand between them.  “He’s not actually here.  He’s not going to know if you help me or not.  Because he’s dead.”

Happy honest to god flinched, but he recovered quickly.

“You’re right.” Happy nodded.  “Tony’s dead.  And it sucks. I get it kid.  I do.  You think I’m not hurting?  You think you’re the only one?”

Peter glared at his feet, avoiding looking at Happy.

Happy sighed.

“I know it’s hard.” The man continued.  “But there’s nothing we can do about it.  We have to figure out how to move on.  You have to figure out how to move on.”

“Maybe I can’t.” Peter said, voice dead.  

Happy sighed heavily again and sat down on the coffee table, leaning forward so they were almost face to face and Peter was forced to meet his gaze.

“You think this is what he would’ve wanted?” Happy asked.  “For you to live out the rest of your life miserable?”

Peter shrugged.

“Because it’s not.  I can tell you that for sure.  He only wanted the best for you.  He cared about you kid.  And by doing this, by refusing to even try to move on, you’re spitting his sacrifice in the face.”

He knew Happy was right.  He knew he couldn’t keep going like this.  It wasn’t living.  But he didn’t know what to do about it.

I almost killed myself the other night.  It was on the tip of his tongue to confess. It felt like the right moment, the best way to hammer home how bad he was doing, but he held back.  He couldn’t tell Happy that.  Everyone would freak out.  And he had it under control.  He did. He hadn’t gone out as Spiderman since.

“I don’t know how to move on.” He admitted instead, voice cracking.  He looked down at his lap, embarrassed.  “I-I don’t know what to do.”

He dropped his face into his hands.  The tears were back.

Happy moved to sit on the couch next to him and tugged him against his side in a one armed hug, hand tangling roughly in his hair.

“We’ll help you.” Happy said softly.  “We’re here for you kid.  You’re not alone.  But you have to talk to us.  You can’t keep shutting everyone out.”

“I just miss him so much.” He sniffled.

“I know.  God I know kid.  I miss him too.  Everyday.” Happy said, sounding close to tears himself.

Peter turned his head into Happy’s chest and sniffled, letting Happy hold him.  They sat there together for a few minutes until Peter gathered himself well enough to pull away.

“Thanks.” He mumbled quietly and ducked his head.

Happy ruffled his hair and stood.  “Come on.  Go get dressed and I’ll take you out to lunch.  My treat.”

Peter gave him a shadow of a smile and got up to go change.

When he came back out in jeans and an old AC/DC t-shirt he’d pilfered from Tony’s closet a few weeks ago, Happy was waiting for him by the door.

“Nice shirt.” Happy commented with a little nod of his head.

“Thanks.” Peter said.  “I stole it.”

“I know.” Happy opened the door for him and they left.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked after he’d locked the door behind them.

“You tell me.  What sounds good?”

“Cheeseburgers?” He suggested.  For some reason that sounded amazing right now.  It was the first time in a long time he could remember having an actual appetite for something.

Happy snorted but his eyes glistened.  “Of course.  Cheeseburgers it is.  I know just the place.”

“Thanks Happy.” He said earnestly.  He hoped the man knew he wasn’t thanking him only for the cheeseburgers.

Happy didn’t respond, but he slung a loose arm around Peter’s shoulders as they walked out together.  It wasn’t the same as when Tony did it, but it gave him some level of comfort all the same.  Maybe just maybe Happy was right and he could eventually figure out how to be ok again.

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Omg I never knew you wrote spiderman!!! i was like omg??/ Im so happy?? anyway what about if Peter gets a migraine round at the stark tower and he's like 'its only a headache I'll be fine' and... he's not lol @ him

(This is baby’s first Spiderman fic!! There’s been quite a few amazing ones so have my dollar store discount contribution :“) but I love me some Spiderman tbh!! not the longest fic for now bc I haven’t written Peter ever!! Also I’m excited to come back to marvel!!)

Occasionally Peter would feel a little insecure about his place in life; sometimes feeling like he wasn’t quite a part of something as much as everyone else. Of course, he had Ned who he loved very dearly and appreciated, but he wondered sometimes if he was missing out on his teenage years. Sometimes felt excluded and pushed to the shadows, being at the bottom of the High School Hierarchy.

Being the Spiderman gave him a sense of purpose, it made him feel like he was doing something with his life, made him feel good about himself.

It had been a week full of parties he wasn’t invited to, a week of scrolling through his little to no followers instagram trying to study for a Spanish test and seeing fellow classmates with hundreds of likes having fun. So when Tony Stark invited him round to the Stark Tower that weekend for some suit upgrades, Peter was excited.

It was all he was really thinking about, using that as an excuse to get through the horrible week. He had pulled a lot of all nighters trying to study for various tests, and catching up with the Decathlon team to redeem himself for his disappearances, and needless to say he was burned out. He needed this trip to Stark’s more than ever.

"Are you sure you should go to Stark’s like that?” Ned frowned, eyeing up his way too pale friend who had the darkest circles under his eyes, and who was also desperately rubbing at his temples.

“Like what? I’m good, Ned! Look at me, I’m ready to see him,” Peter insisted, clenching his teeth at his pounding headache.

“Did Mr Stark request that he sees you at your absolute worst or am I missing something?” Ned shot back, still very hesitant to let his best friend just take off like this.

Peter rolled his eyes, “I’m fine, dude! Look, I really need this right now.”

Ned sighed, still obviously very concerned, “Just..look after yourself or something. If you die I guess I’ll have to be Spiderman and I can’t do that yet because I’ve got a huge test coming up!”

Peter smirked, “In your dreams, dude! Catch ya later.” He scurried out of the school doors, where he caught sight of Happy’s limo. A wave of excitement rushed through him, momentarily forgetting about his pounding headache and waved enthusiastically at him. Happy waved back boredly, but fondly.

“Wait this shit is real?!” Flash gasped as Peter climbed onto the car and waved proudly at Flash. Happy could only groan as he pulled away, driving off.

“I’m so glad that you picked me up at the front of the school!! Thanks dude!! Now Flash knows this isn’t a fluke!” Peter said excitedly, adrenaline rushing through his body.

Happy huffed fondly, “Well, it is kinda a fluke, you don’t actually have an internship. But I only did that because I want to get out of this car as soon as possible.”

Peter pouted, a sly smile creeping onto his face, “Awh, you just missed me, Happy! Don’t try and hide it! You missed me so much you just couldn’t wait for much longer!”

Happy tried to disguise his smile, and was thankful someone decided to call him. He picked up the phone and answered. As the car quieted down, the adrenaline in Peter’s body lowered and suddenly he became aware of his extreme fatigue once again.

Peter slumped against the car seat, hissing ever so slightly as his head throbbed, a sudden surge of pain in his head. He lifted a hand to his temples, rubbing circles discreetly as not to raise any suspicion.

He closed his eyes as to suspend any possible sensory stimuli. He felt exhausted and drained, weak, lowkey wishing he had listened to Ned. However that stubborn voice inside his head told him otherwise, that this was the right choice. He felt his body relax, begging him desperately to rest for a little bit. He was hesitant, but a few minutes of nodding off while Happy spoke on the phone was totally fine, right?

“Wake up, kid,” Happy’s voice boomed out, causing Peter to jolt awake.

He tensed, looking up to see Happy’s disapproving gaze, smiling sheepishly. He went bright red in shame, realising he must have been asleep the whole trip there.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, pressing his lips together as he climbed out of the car, nearly tripping over his own feet. Letting out a little “whew”, he straightened himself out, and looked up to see the Stark Tower, amazed. He was in awe, the magnificent spectacle never ceasing to cause his jaw to drop.

“Alright kid, stop gawking and get inside,” Happy chuckled softly, although he was extremely concerned, watching with furrowed eyebrows as the teenager ran inside the tower. He cleared his throat, knowing something was wrong.

As Peter and Happy escalated through the lift, his headache, which now was surely a migraine, begin to intensify, a sharp paining throbbing in his head. Peter let out a tiny grunt of discomfort, eyes squeezing shut for a few seconds in pain. In those few seconds he missed Happy’s concerned glance.

Once the elevator doors reopened Peter stepped out, eyes twinkling with delight as he saw all the advanced tech around him. He walked around slowly, trying to walk as straight as possible due to his dizziness. He hoped he was convincing, but deep down he knew he was was not walking straight at all.

“Don’t break anything,” Happy warned, jokingly.

“I’ll try! Can I touch though?!” He said excitedly.

“Absolutely not,” Tony’s voice rang out from across the room, making his presence known and strutting out in full designer suit.

Peter flushed bright red, chuckling nervously, “Totally a joke!!”

Tony raised an eyebrow fondly, “Yes, of course it was, Pete.”

“So! What do you need me to do? Do you need me to demonstrate anything?” Peter asked with as much enthusiasm as he could, wanting to make the most of this experience and prove himself Tony. In reality, he was declining in energy levels fast and all he wanted to do was curl up and rest. He did a twirl in the air to try and show off his eagerness, but only resulted in his head spinning rapidly, the room spinning like he was on some amusement park ride. It was like his Earth was tilting, causing him to stumble slightly.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “Nice going, prima ballerina.”

Peter blushed again to which Tony frowned, “Also, aren’t ballerinas meant to be all prim and pretty? You aren’t looking too hot, Peter.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “Uh, I just..had a long day at school! Is all!”

“Hmm,” Tony replied and began to walk towards another room, “follow me then, Swan Lake.”

Peter nodded, carefully following Tony, trying to keep his balance and not trip over and break something and lose the suit forever. He entered Stark’s lab, eyes lighting up with awe and wonder.

“Woah,” he whispered, eyes twinkling with delight and excitement.

“Woah indeed,” Tony remarked, heading to one of his most recent developments and beginning to demonstrate.

Peter tried his absolute best to listen to him, because he wanted to, he really did. Normally he’d be all ears, sucking in information like a vacuum. This was Stark Industries tech for gods sake, one of the most advanced tech of their generation.

As Tony continued to explain the science behind his invention coolly, Peter began to get extremely frustrated. His brain wasn’t fully processing the information, cutting out bits, concentration wavering as his migraine continued to intensify. He clenched his teeth, hoping the pain would just subside for a little bit so he could actually listen to Mr Stark.

As Peter forced his senses to cooperate with him, he found that his head hurt even more. His vision began to blur and fade in and out, blinking rapidly as a futile attempt to correct his impaired vision. His spidey senses were going haywire.

“Peter, are you having trouble keeping up?” Tony said, interrupting himself from his little lecture.

Peter shook his head, “No Mr Stark, of course not.”

As he forced himself to process information, his brain was desperately trying to reject it, overloaded and overwhelmed. There was a finite amount of energy left in Peter before the migraine would eventually win. As his senses were overwhelmed, so was his migraine, and the agonising pain reached a peak.

A shooting, burning pain tormented his head, so harsh and unforgiving Peter couldn’t help the hiss and groan of anguish ripping out of his throat.

“Peter?” Tony exclaimed.

His entire body was wracked with this overwhelming pain as his knees began to buckle, giving out, feeling himself begin to fall when Tony was at his side. Tony held him tightly so he wouldn’t fall, his grasp firm and reassuring.

“Peter, what’s wrong?” He asked calmly, trying to keep a level head in this situation. It became clear to Peter that Tony knew something was up all along.

“My head hurts so much,” Peter whimpered into Tony’s side, teeth clenched.

Tony gave him a sympathetic look, sighing softly as he called out, “Happy? Go get the medicine and stuff, I’m taking Peter to his room.”

Tony picked the teenager up effortlessly, as Peter struggled to stay conscious, lights flickering in and out. The older man exited his lab, heading towards a room already made elegantly and laid him down onto the bed. Peter’s muscles relaxed as his skin came into contact with the soft, luxurious mattress and blanket.

Happy entered the room, saying something inaudible to Tony as the room started to fade into darkness.

“I’m sorry Mr Stark,” Peter whimpered softly as he lost consciousness.

Peter woke up groggily to a night sky by his window and Tony flicking the lights open. His heart a lot less, with only a few remaining remnants of the pain.

“How are you feeling?” Tony asked as he approached the teenager.

“Better,” Peter croaked, sitting up weakly as he rubbed his eyes. He tried to calm down the bedhead he was sure he had; but knew he was not too successful at that. Tony sat down at the edge of his bed, sighing as he passed Peter some aspirin and a glass of water.

Peter gulped down the glass of water, trying to distract himself from the feeling of guilt and shame ridden in his chest. “What time is it?”

“6:30,” Tony replied, inhaling deeply, a sure sign that he was about to lecture him.

“Pete, if you wanna be the Spiderman, you gotta start looking after yourself. Your no use to the civilians if you’re not well, you need to learn to take care of yourself more and know your boundaries. Hiding stuff doesn’t help anyone, you, me, the innocent people you want to save..It’s not convincing either,” Tony started.

“Happy texted me that you were sick the second you fell asleep in the car, I was hoping that you would give in and tell the truth once you got here. Pushing yourself when it’s not necessary isn’t the way to–Peter?” Tony came to a halt as a very light and quiet sniffling sound resonated from the teenager.

Peter cried quietly, aggressively trying to wipe away the tears he was unwillingly shedding. He tried to repress the sounds of his tiny sobs, feeling pathetic and weak.

Tony’s eyes softened, heart breaking as he inched closer to the boy, “Hey, c'mon man, what’s up?”

Peter shook his head violently, unable to stop himself from the little hiccups and never ending tears. He turned away from him, not wanting him to see him like this.

Tony sighed softly, “Pete, did you not hear anything I just said there? My whole lecture about not hiding things? Bottling up emotions is the same situation–you can’t do that shit. It doesn’t work–trust me, I would know.”

Peter sniffled, voice shaky, “..I just..I’m really angry at myself I guess..I wanted this to be special because nothing in my normal life is ever really special and everyone else seems to be having so much fun..they all seem so happy..and I’m lucky because I have Ned and some people have no one but still I know everyone looks down on me and I just wanted to prove myself–”

Tony interrupted him, “Is anyone bullying you? Who’s bullying you? Tell me–”

Peter shook his head, “No, Mr Stark. No ones..I just..i guess it’s more of a me thing..I feel like I’m just on the outside watching everyone living their lives and being teenagers and I’m just..not capable of that I guess. I feel so stupid and useless all the time like nothing I ever do is important or means anything..and I guess I just wanted this Spiderman thing because it gives me purpose and..maybe I am nothing without this suit, I don’t–”

“Peter, stop this at once. You have proven yourself worthy of that suit on numerous occasions, all those things you’re saying about yourself is not true,” Tony interrupted, his voice firm and genuine.

Peter stayed quiet, wiping away at his tears, the sight way too heartbreaking for Tony.

“Oh for..c'mere,” Tony said, opening his arms.

Peter widened his eyes, “Y-you mean..”

Tony smiled, “I’m not just opening the door for you this time.”

Peter practically tacked Tony into a hug, wrapping his arms around him as he sobbed quietly. Tony sighed, rubbing the teenager’s back sweetly, trying to offer this kid reassurance and care.

“I felt like you too once, you know,” Tony said softly.

“..Y-you? Really?”

Tony chuckled, “Yes I did. Sure, I was Howard Stark’s son, but I always felt left out and excluded growing up. I felt like I couldn’t just be a teenager, you know? It’s bullshit when people say your teenage years are the best years, there’s still a lot coming for you, Pete.”

Peter giggled through his tears, feeling a lot better, a whole weight lifting off his shoulders.

Tony rubbed his back soothingly, smiling, “We are going to have a good weekend, Pete. I promise you.”

[killer-barnes]

You Have No Idea

Peter Parker x Shy Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: Peter and the Reader go to school together, however once Peter shows up at Stark tower, the Reader is curious as to why he is there.

Word Count: 1,930

Warnings: language, fluff, adorableness, talk of powers, annoying Tony, shy reader (bc I’m trash). (Err, that’s it?)

A/N: To the anon that requested this, I hope you like it! I sort of changed it up a little bit, so I hope you don’t mind. The length of this, I apologize, holy shit. I could not find a way to end this. *Also, the Reader’s powers are based on the character Catiana (in case you are wondering!) Please let me know what you guys think of it, I’d love some feedback. Enjoy reading!

Walking into school, you held tightly to your backpack and moved swiftly through the crowd, avoiding an “accidental” bump in with anyone that came unexpectedly.

Since you had a few minutes before your first class, you went to your locker and replaced the books in your backpack with the ones you needed today for classes.

Rolling your eyes and groaning as you picked up your heavy Algebra book, you stuffed it roughly into your backpack.

It’s not that you hated math, it’s just you weren’t that great at it, which definitely bothered you since you were in a class full of legit geniuses.

Not only did that class give you anxiety with being called on or not understanding anything, but it was also because there was one nerd who always caught your attention. The one that should probably be in college level math rather than Algebra in some high school. The one who looked so soft and cuddly. The one with the never ending collection of sweaters.

The one named, Peter Parker.

Because of your tendencies to hang in the shadows at school, you thought you were unnoticed by Peter.

You liked it that way, though. You wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment of trying to talk to him and miserably failing, due to your crush on the nerd.

As your day went on, it felt as though it was moving at the pace of a fucking snail.

Slow and annoying.

Once the day finally hit lunch, you tried to cherish the time you had left before your last class that you dreaded oh, so dearly.

As lunch was coming to an end, you prayed as you were walking to your last class that it would be fast and easy, especially since afterwards you were heading to Stark tower to meet a new recruit.

Tony had said the kid was around your age, which you appreciated. You were getting tired of the team’s old jokes and their incoherence of yours. You needed someone to relate to.

Quickly entering the classroom, you headed towards the back closest to the door, so you could get out fast once the bell rings at the end of the day.

Taking a seat, you let out a sigh, which is quickly turned into a choking of air as Peter fucking Parker enters the room.

Covering your choking with a cough, you lower your gaze to your desk blushing profusively, as you see Peter and his friend Ned take a seat to the direct left of you.

Fuck me…

He’s wearing that blue sweater again.

Ugh, why does he have to be so cute?

And that hair, oh my god.

Don’t even let me get started on tha-

Your thoughts were pulled as your teacher strides into the classroom shouting, “Welcome Class! Hope you all did the homework assigned last class!” while giving us all a strict, yet sincere stare.

As the teacher said this, your eyes widened in fear.

Shit!

I forgot… again.

As your fellow classmates were passing up their homework, the girl that sits in front of you, Mary, turns and asks if you have any to turn in.

Averting her gaze, you reply, “u-uh, I-uh, forgot it… at home.”

Giving you a sympathetic look and a nod, she turns back to face the front of the classroom.

Letting out another sigh, you sink down into your chair, blocking out the lesson for today, knowing you could just ask Tony or Bruce for help, since they never mind from what you could tell.

Blankly staring off into space, you hear your teacher call you name.

“Y/N, do you know the answer?”

Not even remembering a single thing the teacher had been talking about, you reply, “u-uh, I-uh…”

Stop stuttering you idiot!

Say a random number!

Say something!

“Uh, 4?” you answer, more as a question.

“No, I’m afraid that’s wrong. Please pay more attention, Y/N,” the teacher calmly replies, annoyance evident in her stance.

“Anyone else want to give it a go?” she adds, eyeing her students.

“Peter?”

You see Peter’s head whip up from scribbling rapidly in his notebook.

He’s probably working on the homework right now.

You think, jealous of his smarts.

“Oh, u-uh, x equals 89.27,” Peter stutters, a light blush of pink appearing across his cheeks.

“Ah, that’s correct, Peter! Alright, let’s move on!”

Once again, your attention was elsewhere.

After doodling in your notebook for the rest of class, the bell rung and you were quick to get out and head towards your locker to retrieve your other books.

Making your way out of the school building, you head towards the Stark Tower, excited to meet the new recruit.

Your head was filling with several different scenarios.

I wonder if they can fly?

Or teleport?

Oh! Or shapeshift!?

Okay, calm down, Y/N.

You don’t want to scare them away.

As you enter into the building, you see the lady at the front desk give you a welcoming smile, which you return as you head towards the elevator to the main part of the building.

Once the elevator opens to the area where all the Avengers live, including yourself, you see Nat and Sam chilling on the couch, while Wanda and Bruce are in the kitchen making some treats for the new recruit.

Nat’s eyes flicker towards your tired ones, as she welcomes you back.

“Hey, Y/N. How was school today?”

Turning your attention towards hers, you mumble, “oh, uh, it was fine. Nothing exciting.”

Before Nat or Sam can reply, Bruce shouts from the kitchen, “Y/N! How was Algebra?”

Closing your eyes and groaning, you see Nat and Sam giggle at your response.

Sulking to the kitchen, you see Wanda and Bruce carefully frosting some cupcakes in bright colors as you take a seat at the island.

Avoiding his question, you ask, “who are these for?”

Sensing your diversion of the question, Bruce presses the question again with a chuckle.

“Y/N, don’t avoid my question. How was Algebra today?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention…” you mumble out, looking away.

“Y/N, we’ve talked about this. If you don’t understand, you should be asking your teacher for help, on top of the help you get from us. We don’t like seeing you struggle,” he softly responds.

Sighing for the millionth time today, you mutter, “I know, I know.”

“Anyways, to answer your other question, these are for the new recruit coming today!” Wanda interjects, excitement present in her voice.

She always gets excited when she has the opportunity to bake her famous cupcakes, especially for someone new.

Smiling up at her, you question, “Oh, right! When are they coming again?”

Handing you a cupcake Wanda answers, “hmm, in a little bit. Tony will let you know when they’re coming.”

Sliding off the chair with the cupcake in hand, you grab your bag and start heading towards the elevator to your bedroom a few floors above.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me, guys,” you mentioned before closing the doors, hearing replies of “okay” and “see you later.”

As you enter your bedroom, you leap towards your bed, quickly engulfing its warm and fluffy exterior.

Taking a break before starting your homework, you scroll aimlessly through your phone, soon getting bored and switching towards your school work.

Moving your backpack onto your bed, you decide to start out easy, grabbing the book you are required to read for your English class.

After reading for what seems like hours, you wonder if the new recruit has arrived and decide to go investigate, knowing Tony forgot to tell you if they were here or not.

Making your way towards Tony’s lab, you hear chatter as you enter.

“Hey, Tony! Is the new recru-”

Your words are lost as you see the one and only Peter Parker sitting across from Tony in the lab.

“Ah, yes, Y/N. Sorry I forgot to let you know he was here.” Tony said, filling the gap you left open.

Before you had the chance to speak again, not that you would be able to anyways, Peter gazes towards you and asks, “Y/N? Wait… don’t I sit next to you in Algebra?”

“Hmm, so is this why you aren’t doing well in Algebra, Y/N?” Tony questions, finally making the connection.

Opening your mouth, you are left speechless after what Tony said, your face feeling as though it was on fire from the intense blush that rose upon your cheeks.

Giving Tony a death glare, you gaze back towards Peter, his face plastered with a light pink across his cheeks.

Covering your face with your hands, you mumble, “Tooony.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two alone. No funny business, ya hear?”

Peter’s face turns a darker shade at Tony’s comment, but shakes it away, looking towards your embarrassed figure.

“S-So, uh- you’re an Avenger? T-That’s awesome.” Peter says, trying to rid the air of embarrassment.

Whipping your eyes towards him you rapidly shake your head no, realizing he knows what you are now.

That you have powers.

“U-uh, w-why would you think that, I-I don’t know wh-”

Peter smiles at you, chuckling at how you are trying to figure a way out of him finding out.

Knowing there’s no way around it, you add, “a-alright, yeah. I’m an Avenger. I’m guessing, uh, you’re the new recruit?”

Shifting in his stance, Peter blushes, realizing the situation he is in too.

“Oh, u-uh, yeah. I-I’m Spiderman.”

Hearing a gasp, Peter looks at you, your mouth agape and eyes wide.

Before he has the chance to say anything, you silence him.

“W-What? No way! Well, now that I think about it, that makes sense, I-I mean with all those bruises and cuts you show up at school with I saw when I would look at your adorable face. I mean, I just assumed you got into a fight bu-”

“Y-You think I’m adorable?” Peter inquires, shutting up your rambling.

Feeling the familiar fire rise to your cheeks you look towards your feet and stutter quietly, “w-well, I-I… yes.”

Giggling and smiling brightly, Peter says, “r-really? I didn’t think you noticed me. You’re always looking away from me.”

Scoffing, you reply, “that’s just because I didn’t want to get caught looking at you a-all the time!”

Blushing, Peter chuckles, “understandable, but you’re even more adorable. And, hey, since you know who I am and what I can do, can I ask you the same?” His eyes shining bright, yet curious.

Looking towards him, you nervously laugh, “uh, I-I guess that’s only fair.”

Giving you a smile, you take that as a signal to begin.

“O-Okay, well, uh I can shape shift into any living being if I touch their blood and I gain their memories in the process.”

Not even bothering to look up at Peter, since it’s nothing compared to what he can do, you add, “I-I know it’s nothing like your-”

“Are you kidding me?! That’s amazing, Y/N! Wanna trade?”

You stare at him like he’s crazy.

Taking in your expression, Peter is quick to back himself up.

“I’m just kidding, but seriously, Y/N. That’s really fucking cool.”

You just blush and mumble a quiet thank you.

Your guys’ conversation is put to a halt as Tony appears outside of the lab, his hand covering his eyes.

“Guys! I’m walking in. You better not be doing any funny business! This is not the place nor the time!”

“Toooony,” you groaned.

“He never gives you a break, huh?”

“You have no idea, Spiderboy.”

A/N: Sigh, I know I do shy reader all the damn time, but I relate to that the most. Anywho, sorry if this is shit. As always feedback is appreciated!

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

SPIDERMAN AAAAHH i just saw the movie this brings me so much joy okay peter gets a cough or a cold or something not really that major and mr stark notices but doesn't say anything because he's like 'he'll tell me if he needs something' or whatever then when peter goes to get a drink or the bathroom idk FRIDAY is just like 'Mr Parker has a temperature of .... ' or 'needs urgent medical assistance' or smth

(This is a sweet ass prompt, anon. And I’m all for Tony trying to be a suave dad like “I must test him” and that fails horribly lmao bc Peter is a stubborn shit..here’s some more Spiderman! Also u might notice I’ve incorporated the tom holland meme discretely lol)

When Tony first discovered Peter through that YouTube video, he had seen him as a talent. A potential colleague in the future, a team mate and someone he could help along find their footing. But Tony had never anticipated what had come for him instead.

Instead what Tony found was a kid. A kid who was without a doubt, certainly a talent and special, but he was a kid. He was lost, he had issues, he was a misfit who desperately wanted to be like everyone else and didn’t exactly love himself. Peter had been exposed to the horrors of the world too soon; having lost his Uncle, who had been his father figure quite recently. He had daddy issues, and Tony was no stranger to those. In those eyes Tony saw himself years ago, a boy trying to pave his way through a misguided childhood, and trying to come out of it a man.

Tony had people who had helped him along the way, mentors, friends, the like. And for them, Tony would eternally be grateful. Tony could only hope he could be the same for Peter, because he deserved it. He really was a good kid.

A bond had grown between them, and Tony had grown caring and protective. This had not been his plan at all. He was unprepared, making it up as he went. Tony had no clue what it was like, what it took to become a father figure. Hell, how would he know something he never even had? Even so, he had made it a mission to make sure Peter could have something as close as possible. He knew he would come up short, but damn well Tony would try his hardest despite that.

Tony would try and push communication with Peter. What he recognised in Peter was the struggle to reach out to others, in fear of perhaps rejection or belittlement or the fear he would not be understood. When Peter did rarely reach out, he very much held back. Tony wanted Peter to be more open, so he could achieve this connection with others he longed to have.

Tony started inviting Peter more and more to the Stark Tower, much to the boy’s delight. He still had his pride, of course, he would still tell Peter not to get his hopes up and this doesn’t mean anything, but the both of them knew that was simply not the case. Tony had started to care for this boy.

So when Peter exited the the elevator, looking pale and ghostly, Tony couldn’t help but feel extremely worried.

Happy was not far behind him, raising an eyebrow at Tony. A sure symbol telling Tony that something was most certainly wrong.

“What’s up, Rudolph?” Tony greeted as Peter shuffled into the room, his already pale face a pasty white, besides a rubbed raw red nosed and dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Nothing much, I got an A in my Spanish test,” Peter said casually, his voice hoarse and ridden with congestion.

Tony blinked, the protective side of him desperately wanting to just pick up this kid and wrap him in blankets. He was so tempted to do so, just on the brink of scooping the kid in his arms but he refrained. Peter would tell him if something was seriously wrong, he would have to. Besides, they had just had that little heart to heart about communication last week, right?

Tony shrugged, “Thats good, Spanish is a good language to have in your back pocket. You wanna see this new suit I’m developing?”

Peter smiled weakly, “Of course Mr Stark!”

Peter coughed a chorus of congested, chesty little coughs into his arms for the third time since Tony began his lecture on a new technology he was developing.

“That’s super cool Mr Stark,” Peter rasped out, his voice extremely hoarse and congested, sounding like it was on its last breath.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “You alright there, Pete?”

Peter cleared his throat, sniffling softly, “I have a bit of a cough, Mr Stark.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully, taking this as progress. Peter was beginning to admit things, and that was enough for him. If things were to go awry, the kid would tell him. “Alright, Pete, give me a shout if you need anything or need to take a break.”

Peter coughed again into the crook of his arm, “Of course Mr Stark.”

“Peter, will you go and process this for me?” Tony asked casually, passing over Peter a sheet of calculations as he tweaked the coding of some advancement he and Peter were working on.

It took Peter a good few minutes to snap out of his fevered trance and he nodded. The sudden return to reality was jarring, and made him feel extremely dizzy. As he began to move for the first time in what seemed like forever was a little bit of a shock to his system, unable to walk in a straight line and shaking as he walked.

Peter squinted as the bright light of the screen shone, the intensity of the light blinding him and inducing a headache. He let out a barely audible groan of discomfort as his free hand made its way to his temple. He slowly and weakly typed out the calculations onto the computer, until an irresistible tickle itched at his throat.

Peter swallowed and cleared his throat, hoping that it would go away. The tickle pricked at the lining, causing his eyes to prick with irritated tears. He tried to keep it in, finding that he wasn’t really breathing. Eventually, the itching was too much and he exploded into a series of irritated, itchy coughs. He managed to lift his arm up to his mouth to conceal his germs, hacking an incredibly fit of chesty, throaty coughs that hurt his chest.

The tickle would only persist, causing more desperate coughs out of his chest. He just couldn’t stop, an endless series of coughing that he wished would just stop. Suddenly he felt a warm hand rubbing his back, and a glass of water being pressed against his lips. Peter drank gratefully, the fresh cool liquid soothing his inflamed throat.

“Thank you Mr Stark,” Peter croaked out, chest heaving as he struggled to regain his composure and catch his breath. He felt weak and faint due to the prolonged period without oxygen in his system. Peter leaned against the table to try and support his feeble body.

Tony sighed, “You sound like you’ve got a frog up your throat. But seriously though, kiddo, you’ll say something if you need something, correct?”

Peter nodded, “Yes, Mr Stark. I’m fine for now, it’s just one of the colds going around at school I guess.”

Tony nodded, unable to mask the suspicion and concern that was growing on his features. He turned back to the tech he was developing and Peter followed shortly after, but he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling he was making a mistake here.

Peter sniffled softly, wiping away at the beads of sweat dotting his forehead due to his fever. His cheeks felt extremely warm, and he was certain he resembled a toddler who was playing with their mother’s blusher. His head was pounding hard, like his brain was being thrusted and stabbed numerous times. He rubbed at his temple aggressively, willing the pain away but to no avail. He groaned, feeling extreme discomfort at how warm he felt.

His palms were sweaty and it was extremely gross for the touch screen computer he was working on. His vision was fading in and out of darkness, he could hear his heart thumping in his chest. He felt so panicked and sick that he couldn’t stand this, but he didn’t want to worry Tony or make him think he was weak. Peter had worked so hard to get Tony to like him and he didn’t want that all flushed down the drain.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, Mr Stark,” Peter announced, trying not to fall or walk straight into a table because the world was currently spinning. He had hoped if he had just splashed his face with some water he could cool down a little bit.

“Of course, Pete,” Tony replied, continuing to tweak at the piece of technology. He didn’t look up as Peter left, not noticing how Peter shook and wobbled as he walked in a zig zag formation.

Tony had lost track of time, engulfed and lost in his work when suddenly FRIDAY activated.

“Mr Stark,”

“Yes, FRIDAY?” Tony responded, not looking up from his work.

“Mr Parker has a temperature of an alarming rate at 103.4 degrees. He has currently lost consciousness and is on the floor of the nearest bathroom.”

Tony’s heart dropped. He felt a wave of nausea rush through his body and an icy, bitter cold sensation wash over his system as he froze. He breathed in heavily, heart heavy and breathing shallow, “..O-okay, thank you f-for letting me k-know, FRIDAY.”

Once Friday deactivated once again, Tony inhaled sharply then was sprinting towards the bathroom.

Being a superhero, there were numerous times where he had to run fast. Times where he had to sprint his heart out for the sake of his own life. However Tony had never ran as fast as he did now, running for what may have not been his own life, but a life that meant more to him than his own.

He burst through the bathroom door and found Peter curled up on the cold hard ground, looking extremely sick and pale. Tony let out a small gasp, his heart breaking and racing as he looked down at this boy who looked so weak and like he had fallen apart. All because Tony was too slow to catch him.

Tony took in a shaky breath, kneeling down to examine Peter’s face. His skin was scorching hot, his face scrunched up in discomfort. His hands shook violently as he examined the boy, letting out a quivering breath in anxiety.

“F-Friday, p-please do an evaluation on Mr Parker,” Tony stuttered.

“Mr Parker has a high fever and a bad cough. Should the cough not be treated this could potentially gravitate into something a lot worse, for example a chest infection.”

Tony breathed in shakily, running sweaty hands through his hair in anxiety. His heart raced and chest cold, swallowing hard, trying to steady his rigged breathing. He blinked back tears, feeling a plethora of guilt of guilt flood his anxious mind.

“P-please tell me w-what to do,” Tony basically whimpered.

“First sir, you must stay calm. Panicking will not do Mr Parker any good.”

“I can’t not fucking panic! This kid is sick because I fucked up! Tell me what to do!” Tony snapped.

“Mr Stark, your emotions are clouding you. As a father figure to Mr Parker you must not hold any resentment towards yourself because it does not benefit either you.”

Tony slid against the wall, hands pulling at his hair, “I can’t do that, FRIDAY. I can’t be enough for Peter. I’m not enough for him. I want to be. This kid deserves the world and..I can’t give it to him. How can I give him something I’ve never had?”

“You cannot give Peter the world. It is as simple as that. He never asked for that. He needs you, no one else. The first thing you just do to fully love another individual is to love yourself first.”

Tony began to relax slowly, letting out a shaky laugh, “That’s really dumb and cheesy. I didn’t know I programmed a sappy rom com into my AI..but that actually helped. Thank you, FRIDAY. I guess..I’m just upset that I can’t give him everything.”

“No one can. He can never have everything, Mr Stark. That’s just the way of life. All he’s asking is for you to be there.”

“I will.”

“Are you now ready to receive instructions on how to care for Mr Parker?”

“Yes I am.”

Tony scooped Peter into his arms, heading towards the room that had been prepared for his stay. Over the past few months, Peter had started growing a small collection of his own stuff to put there. In fact there was a small drawer filled with things for his best friend Ned when he sometimes came over.

Tony put Peter down onto the bed, tucking him into the blankets. He brushed away the strands of sweaty fair off his fevered forehead and sighed quietly.

“Okay, what do I do?”

“Go and retrieve a damp washcloth for his forehead.”

Tony went off to get one, and draped the towel over Peter’s forehead. The younger boy let out a tiny noise of satisfaction, his face relaxing and as did his muscles, looking a lot less tense and uncomfortable.

“I’ve contacted your doctor to check on Mr Parker. I’ve also forwarded all information from his scan so he can come equipped with medicine.”

“You’re the best, FRIDAY.”

“I know, Mr Stark.”

“God, a lot of me translated into your coding, huh?”

Peter woke up the next morning, feeling weak and groggy, but a lot better than he had yesterday. He shielded his eyes from the light coming from the window. He blinked in confusion as he felt the soft mattress and crisp white sheets. As far as he knew, he was on the bathroom floor.

He got up, trying to make himself aware of his surroundings and trying to piece together what had happened when he heard the door creaking open. He whipped his head around to see who it was.

Tony’s eyes widened, “Oh! You’re awake!”

“..what..?” Peter stated, extremely confused.

Tony smirked and set down a tray of medicine, a mug of tea and an extremely aromatic soup. He sat down at the edge of the bed, “You fainted on the bathroom floor and you had a  dangerously high fever. I had to call a doctor to come in.”

Peter felt a pang of guilt strike him as he bit his lip, “I’m so sorry, Mr–”

Tony softened, “No no, I’m not mad. Well, I am kinda.”

Peter looked down awkwardly, feeling guilty still. It was like when Aunt May was scolding him for not cleaning up properly and leaving a mess or coming home late. Super awkward.

“I’m kinda mad because I told you many times to tell me when you needed something. I thought we had a deal to communicate. We had a heart to heart last week and everything.”

“..I know, Mr Stark, I’m sorry. I just..i worked so hard for you to like me and now you finally are and I was just afraid that when you saw the actual me, weak me, that that would all go down the drain and you wouldn’t like me and this time you wouldn’t take me back–”

“What?! Peter, I would never–” Tony cut himself off and sighed deeply, pinching the bride of his nose. He inhaled.

“..Okay..you know what. I shouldn’t be mad at you. You know why? Because I’m not listening to my own advice either. It’s not fair I get to break the rules.”

Peter looked confused.

“..I’m not communicating with you either. I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Pete. I know I act like I don’t want you around..but the hard cold fact is I really do, and I’m so so sorry it came across that way. I just..really care about you, Peter. I was so worried last night when I found you unconscious. I thought I had lost you..that I had failed you..”

“You don’t owe me anything, Mr Stark.”

“..No. I do. You are my family now, just like Rhodes or Happy is. Recently, I’ve really come to care about you and I short-circuited. I was so afraid I wouldn’t be enough for you and that I would fuck up just like my dad and make the same mistakes.”

Peter softened, “Mr Stark..you are enough..”

Tony shook his head, “No, I’m not. I never will be. And that’s fine. Im never going to–but I will still try. I’m not going anywhere, Peter.”

Peter blinked back tears, inhaling sharply, laughing shakily, “T-thank you, M-Mr Stark. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t either,” Tony said, wrapping an arm around Peter and pulling him close and embracing him into a warm, loving hug.

Tony pulled away, a smirk creeping onto his lips, “Okay, time for medicine!”

Peter made a face of disgust.

Tony opened a bottle of medicine, carefully pouring the liquid into the spoon but messed up and ended up spilling some onto the sheets.

“Well shit–hey, I just said I would fuck up a lot,” Tony chuckled.

Peter giggled, “That’s perfectly okay with me.”