#peter became a small figure in the neighborhood in only a month
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erinwantstowrite · 3 months ago
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has lady gotham accepted peter ?
not quite yet, because he hasn't been there long. but she does have a soft spot for heroes, and peter has been so kind to her people so far
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stupidcowboykid · 2 years ago
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percy jackson x marvel crossover rec list
The twitter exodus has made me re-realize the joy of being cringe and free, so here are my 4 fave pjo/marvel crossovers!
Annabeth knows everything by everdeen6
1435 words
It probably had to do with Peter Parker's frequent disappearances. So either he was a monster, a demigod who was in hiding or something else. Either way he was a potential threat. So Annabeth did something every rational not paranoid teen would do. She became his lab partner and bugged his school bag. Or the fic where Peter thinks Annabeth is just a friendly neighborhood ninja mentor to him until Annabeth decides to single-handedly fix everything post NWH.
Demigods at Midtown oneshot #1. Annabeth's characterization-- and Peter's confusion-- is everything! Fix-it fic.
glass figures by ahermioneh
211796 words
I lifted my gun, pointing it towards the minefield of shattered fragments, and kicked the small coffee table out of the way. Only to stare down at an awfully familiar face, which split into a somewhat lopsided grin. The intruder raised his hands in a mocking surrender. “Long time no see, dude.” I lowered the gun. “What the hell are you doing in South Peru?” Or in which Clint Barton and Percy Jackson have a long personal history that starts in high school.
This is my #1 absolute favorite Percy Jackson/Marvel fic. It's excellently written, it's long, and it's funny. I adore Natasha's characterization.
The Blue Food Project by liketolaugh
59537 words (as of 11/8/22)
Foggy meets Sally in a grocery store, sees the three bottles of food coloring in her cart, and listens to her talk about how much her son loves it for about ten minutes before he decides he's in love. About four months later, Natasha drops by the Jacksons' apartment to take her first close look at the child that heralds the realization of the Great Prophecy. She thinks he looks small.
This fic has characters from the Avengers and Daredevil! Percy is 14, which is a refreshing take on a familiar trope. Well-written, excellent characterization.
They'll Talk About Us and Discover by pherb
5776 words
MJ didn't get curious about just anything. And while everyone was curious about the two new seniors at their school, MJ had a gut feeling to believe there was something more to them. Or: Percy and Annabeth attend Midtown
Demigods at Midtown oneshot #2. I love the outsider POV and MJ's analysis. A fun take on the trope!
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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 2 years ago
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Can you update the Steter BroTP tag (I think it's been 2 years since the last update), preferably sterek romantic pairing or gen
Sure.
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(as the question) so the answer by RosePerSomnium
(1/2 I 925 I Teen I No Pairing)
Sidetracked from his current project, Stiles investigates Peter's aversion to touch.
You Salvage The Ashes Of Who I Once Was by Lamely_Me
(1/1 I 1,929 I Teen I No Pairing)
Peter has been hunting Stiles for months now when Scott has come up empty in all ways possible, to absolutely no one's surprise. It takes time and expenses and desperation, but Peter does find the human.
Except that the boy is no longer human.
Peter has a decision to make.
Wild (Blue Neighborhood) by BeautyOnFyre
(1/1 I 11,029 I Teen I Sterek)
Peter's lethargic body was unresponsive as he sat in the wheelchair, endlessly staring out the window of his hospital room. His side twinged a bit from the rough scrubbing the nurse had given his mottled flesh earlier and he ached to move even a finger.
"Uncle Peter?" The small voice was behind him in the doorway. He remembered that voice. Contrary to the title bestowed from the small girl that rounded his chair into his line of sight, Stiles Stilinski was not related to Peter at all.
Or how Stiles and Peter became best friends for life and brought Stiles into the Pack.
This love is like wildfire by adara
(2/2 I 12,058 I Teen I Sterek)
In which Stiles is a volunteer firefighter dealing with a fire that's creeping up on Beacon Hills and Derek and Stiles both realize they've been missing some important information over the years.
It takes a village by pixieblade
(10/? I 24,970 I Mature I Sterek)
Stiles is tired. He's tired of always having to defend himself to his so-called best friend. He's tired of being ignored and he's tired of the Pack never having his back.
So this is his line. He'd draw it in the sand, but all he has is a glitter sharpie.
It'll have to do.
I've Lived A Better Day by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere
(18/18 I 32,818 I Not Rated I Sterek)
When Stiles comes across a rogue Alpha during his first year at Berkeley, the ensuing fight doesn't exactly go his way. He calls an unlikely ally to help him with his transition, and finds out his new pack isn't quite who he might have thought it would be.
Stiles is now left with the task of trying to figure out how his old life will fit in with his new, but that is not without its challenges.
A Wolf's Ribbon by Dexterous_Sinistrous
(6/6 I 36,091 I Explicit I Sterek)
Derek had been coached on how to approach the child heir apparent while hundreds of eyes watched him. He kept his eyes focused on the cradle, leaning over the edge as best he could to see the baby everyone had been talking about.
Stiles smiled when he saw Derek, kicking his legs out as he reached a hand up for him. He cooed at Derek, his fingers grabbing at the older boy in an attempt to touch him, all to no avail. He gurgled out a laugh when Derek reached a hand down into the cradle, snatching hold of his fingers as best he could.
Derek offered a small smile in response, allowing Stiles to playfully tug on his hand.
The two children made an adorable sight before the Court and their parents. That was the moment Queen Talia and King John decided to arrange their marriage. Every second was planned out without the voiced concern of the children.
Baseball Bats and Sour Wolves by Erin1324
(65/? I 81,149 I Teen I Sterek)
Derek is cursed with some sort of spell, and for some reason only responds to Stiles as a result. He tries to attack everyone else, even his Alpha, he's also acting super overprotective of Stiles, hardly letting anyone get close to him.
Joining the Fang Gang by AClosedFicIsNeverRead
(21/? I 87,655 I Explicit I Sterek)
“SSTTIIIILLEESS!” Lydia’s wail tore its way from her throat right in the middle of a pack meeting.
“Lydia? Lydia, look at me,” Derek urged, a slight tremor in his voice as he fought to be gentle with her despite his alarm. She blinked through tears and struggled to meet his gaze as he crouched in front of her. “What did you see?”
“Forest… It’s dark… His Dad is screaming for him…” Her lips trembled as she shook her head and gasped, “Oh, God… He’s dying, Derek. I can feel it… It hurts so much… Oh, poor Stiles…”
- OR -
The one where Stiles is turned into a vampire, hides it from the pack, and tries to manage his new 'condition' without them noticing.
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sacredsorceress · 4 years ago
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You? || Peter Parker
pairing: peter parker x telekinetic!reader
summary: peter parker has a crush on you. you have a crush on spider-man. what happens when you learn each other’s true identities?
word count: 2.6k
warnings: mentions of getting shot, blood, fluff
masterlist || request
You stood on the rooftop of the building at the corner of the intersection, watching as a mother and her two young children used the ATM across the street. Despite the fact that there were plenty of lampposts scattered along the road, only the dim light that hung above the ATM was what stood between the small family and complete darkness. With the sun having set over an hour ago, a breeze swept through the dark night and a chill ran through your body as you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself.
A few months ago you had discovered that you had the ability to move things without ever touching them. The first time you had, you thought it was a coincidence. You were standing on a street corner, waiting for the light to turn red so you could cross the street when you looked up and saw a small toddler rush out of their mother’s arms and into oncoming traffic. Without even thinking about it, you threw your arms forward and the child was thrown back into the safety of their mother’s arms and the car that was inches away from colliding him, halted right in its place without the driver ever hitting the brakes.
You had been so shocked that you immediately rushed home, locking yourself in your room. You confirmed your suspicions later that night as objects flew around your room without you ever having lifted a finger.
You never told anyone else about it, afraid of how people would perceive you or even use you, but you also knew that since you were given this power, you were meant to use it to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves the same way.
What you didn’t know was that none other than the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was doing the same with his own abilities, crouched on the rooftop of the building across from yours, looking out for the same family.
You heard two men’s voices shout from below, causing you to snap out of your own thoughts. When you looked back down below you watched as one of the men pulled a gun on the mother who was using the ATM while the other man stood by his side. Before you could even do anything, however, you watched as  none other than Spider-Man himself swung into the situation.
“Hey guys!” He announced. “Nice try, but I think you need a card to use this machine. So, I’ll be taking that.”
You watched- still standing above- as he shot the man’s wrist, causing him to drop the gun, and kicked the other guy to the ground. With a swift punch to the first man’s face, he was knocked cold and Spider-Man turned back to the family.
What you could see that none of there other’s below could, was that when Spider-Man turned his back, you watched as the second man, still conscious, picked up the loose gun from the ground and shakily pointed it at Spider-Man. As his finger inched closer to the trigger, you shouted.
“No!” You quickly swung your right hand causing the gun to be torn from the man’s hands and to the sidewalk across from where he sat at the intersection. At the sound of the commotion, Spider-Man spun around, watching as your figure levitated down from the roof above.
“Woah.” 
As your feet landed on the ground below and the man who had just held a gun in his hand scrambled to his feet, you lifted your hand up in the air, throwing him against the nearby brick wall, knocking him out instantly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come down sooner.” You told him, turning to face the masked Spider-Man.
Shocked and frankly impressed by what he had just watched occur in front of his own eyes, he began stumbling over his words.
“What the... did you just... wait a minute.” He attempted to compose himself, flustered. “D-did you just move that guy with your mind?”
That was the first time the two of you had met- at least as your super-hero aliases. Despite the fact that you and Spider-Man would patrol nearly every night together and became a local crime-fighting duo, the two of you never shared your real names with each other, wanting to conceal your identities.
Little did the two of you know that you also knew each other in “real life” as classmates. Although you and Peter Parker spent time in different circles, you shared a lot of the same classes and would often chat with one another. What you also didn’t know was that Peter had an enormous crush on you, waiting eagerly for that same class every day just for the chance to speak to you. However, you were oblivious because you only had eyes for the boy you spent every night with- Spider-Man.
It was a tricky situation to say the least.
That was how the two of you lasted for months. You had an undying crush on Spider-Man, barely giving Peter a second thought and Peter had the strongest feelings for you, not caring less about the super-powered girl he spent every night with.
Neither of you understood why the other seemed to not care about you when in actuality you did have feelings for each other- just a a different version neither of you were aware of.
The night that you finally uncovered the truth you were both distracted. The Homecoming dance was that upcoming Friday and Peter was determined, yet terrified to ask you to go with him. When you asked “Spidey” what he was so anxious about and he confessed that he had been practically in love with this girl for a while and he was planning on asking her out, your heart shattered. You were right there waiting for him, why would he need anyone else?
You should have been paying attention. You shouldn’t have let your feelings for the famous Spider-Man get in the way of the middle of you patrolling, but you couldn’t help it.
It happened too fast for you to catch it.
The two of you were sat on the ledge of a rooftop of the bank building, watching the sidewalk below. You and Peter had just watched a group of what you thought to be suspicious looking men enter the building. Not wanting to start a commotion and get yourselves in trouble, you planned on waiting to interrogate these men until they were once again outside the building. No sirens rung from the bank and the door remained closed. You didn’t think anything of it. Both of you were so in your own heads about your feelings, that you didn’t notice the man who had walked out the door to the roof you and Peter were sitting on until you heard the gunshot ring in your ears.
As soon as you spun around to see the man, though, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Peter fell with a loud yelp and hit the ground. In an instant, you swung your arm out, catching the perpetrator and threw him against the door he had just walked through, knocking him unconscious.
As soon as you watched the man sink against the door, you dropped to your knees at Peter’s side. He was grasping a wound at his side and you could see the blood slipping through his fingers.
“Shit, Spidey, we have to get you to a hospital.” You told him, trying to move his hands to get a closer look at his wound.
He adamantly shook his head.
“It’s okay.” He told you. “The bullet came out the other side I think. It’s gonna be okay. It just hurts... a lot.”
Seeing him in pain, groaning and holding on to his side nearly made you sick. You hated seeing him hurt.
“Is there anything I can do?” You asked him, wringing your hands.
Peter grunted, throwing his head back, but still managing to nod his head.
“Can you...” He groaned from the sharp pain at his side. “Can you take off my mask? I can’t breathe in this thing.”
Your eyes went wide in shock as you looked at the boy in pain before you. The two of you had never seen each other without a mask- you didn’t even know each other’s real names. You were almost afraid to take off the mask, knowing it would change everything- although not in the way you initially thought. You knew you would continue to love him regardless of who he was without his mask, because it wasn’t the mask or the super powers or anything like that that mattered to you- it was him.
“Are you... are you sure?” You asked him, wanting to be sure he wouldn’t regret his decision.
He nodded again, groaning in pain. “I- I trust you.”
He lifted his head for you to take off his mask. You shakily moved your hands to the end of his mask, gently brushing your fingers against his skin underneath. You turned your face away, still worried to meet the boy who hid behind the suit. Slowly but surely, you tugged at the material and when you finally tore the mask off of his face and held it in your lap you turned to face him.
You immediately recognized him, dropping his mask at your side and throwing your hands up to your mouth in shock.
His face twisted into a cringe. “Do I look that bad?”
You shook your head, taking in his appearance. Spider-Man- Spidey- was Peter Parker. Your classmate Peter Parker who was always tripping over his own shoelaces, whispering to his friend Ned in class about the Lego Death Star they were planning on finishing that night and the same Peter who was always so kind to you in class, helping you with your work. You could hardly believe that the same Peter Parker was fighting crime beside you every night.
You were in love with Peter Parker.
“Peter?”
Peter sat up straighter at the sound of his name. He was confused as to how you knew his name, the two of you never sharing that detail about yourselves with each other.
“How- how do you know my name?” He asked, still holding the wound at his side.
“Peter I-”
You didn’t know how to explain to him how you recognized him. You were still in so much shock that you couldn’t find the right words to tell him.
Instead, you slipped your fingers under your own mask, pulling it up and over your face.
You watched as Peter’s eyes now shot open wide, his face going pale.
“Y/n?” He asked before quickly shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Maybe... maybe I should go to the hospital. I have to be losing a lot of blood if I think you’re Y/n.”
You smiled, placing your hand gently on his arm.
“Peter, it’s me.” You assured him. “It’s Y/n. You’re not going crazy or anything, I promise.” You paused, laughing. “This is crazy.”
Peter didn’t know what to do with himself when it finally clicked in his brain that you- the girl he had been crushing on for the past year- were the same person he had been patrolling with every night. He had been so shy, working up the courage to speak to you every day at school and the whole time he was spending every night fighting by your side.
“Y-yeah.” He chuckled. “I guess it is.”
You clicked your tongue, not knowing what to say next.
“So....” You said. “Who’s that girl you were talking about?”
Peter laughed nervously, removing his hands from his side that had now stopped bleeding. He didn’t know what to say to you. If you had asked that question before you removed your mask he would’ve told you in a heartbeat because he trusted you more than just about anyone. Now, he didn’t know what to do.
Even though he had just been bleeding out in front of you minutes before, he was terrified to admit his crush on you.
“Uh...” He scratched the back of his neck.
“Oh no. It’s okay!” You butt in, realizing the awkward predicament you put him in. “You don’t have to answer...”
“No, it’s okay!”
“No, no really. I shouldn’t have asked. I made it weird-”
“Y/n, really it’s okay!”
“Peter, really, I’m sorry. You don’t have to-”
“It’s you, Y/n!” He finally confessed, cutting you off. “You’re... you’re the one I wanted to ask to the dance.”
The sound of his shouting forced you to stop talking and instead look at him. Peter had a crush on you?
Before you could even help yourself, you started laughing.
Although you couldn’t tell under the dark night sky, Peter’s face flushed red, embarrassed, figuring you were laughing at him.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s stupid.” He mumbled to you sheepishly, unable to meet your eyes. “You don’t have to go with me or anything...”
Composing yourself from your laughter, you shook your head, grabbing Peter’s bloodied hand. You glanced up towards him smiling.
“No, Peter, I didn’t mean it like that.” You said. “It’s just- I had the biggest crush on Spider-Man. I’ve liked you too this whole time and I didn’t even know it. You have to admit- it’s kind of funny.”
Realizing that you weren’t laughing at him, Peter finally met your eyes, shooting you a smile right back. Then it hit him- you liked him too. Even though you admittedly had a crush on Spider-Man, you liked him. You didn’t like him for the mask he wore on his face, but for the person he was underneath the mask... it just took a while for you to figure out who.
“You like me?” He asked you.
“Yeah! I mean-” You cleared your throat. “I liked Spider-Man, but you’re Spider-Man. Ironically, I guess, I just got to know you better hanging out every night than I did at school, but don’t worry, Peter. I like you- with or without the mask.”
Both of you gazed at each other, smiling, content with finally knowing the face behind the mask. Just as you were about to lean in closer to Peter, you heard a shuffling sound behind you.
The two of you had been so caught up in your own revelations, you nearly forgot about what the two of you were doing in this position in the first place.
Both of you turned to follow the cause of the noise, noticing the man you had knocked out minutes before, drowsily waking up. At once, both you and Peter raised your hand. You picked up the man and held him high against the wall and Peter immediately shot a web at him, holding him against it. The plastic bag holding stolen cash fell from his grasp onto the ground.
You smiled, handing Peter back his mask.
“Felling better, Spidey?” You asked him, slipping your own mask over your head again.
When Peter’s mask was securely covering his face, he pulled himself up from his spot on the floor, chuckling.
“I am now! What about you?”
You laughed, strolling towards the unnamed man to admire you and Peter’s handy work.
“Oh, I’m feeling miraculous, trust me.”
Peter strolled past you, picking up the bag of cash from the ground. Once in his hands, he stood by your side again, watching the bank robber struggle underneath the webs.
“We make a pretty good team, huh?”
You smiled, wrapping your arm around Peter’s waist and resting your head on his shoulder.
“We do.”
Before Peter could say another world, you stole the bag of cash from his hands and swung open the door, leading to the staircase down to the bank. The sound of police sirens grew louder as the cruisers rushed down the street.
You waved the bag in your hands, teasing Peter.
“Last one to get this guy arrested has to pay for Homecoming tickets!”
As soon as you finished your sentence, you rushed down the stairs, the door still swinging behind you.
“Hey! No fair!”
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kerie-prince · 4 years ago
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the intern
Peter Parker x Reader (college au)
requested: (anon) plz plz plz give me some college aged, super powerful ( think stark ceo powerful ) peter parker shit. idc what the rest of the story is about, i just need a brooding, smoldering, suit wearing, extremely expensive, college aged spiderman. plz and thank you!!!!
warnings: language
summary: When you start a new internship at Stark Industries, you're not only surprised to find Peter working as your boss, but that he's not the shy neighborhood boy you grew up with
a/n: this doesn't follow canon so for this imagine, hammer industries is just a rival company and the snap never happened lol also i don't know anything more than operating a phone so don't expect me to write sciencey, techy stuff lmao
(gif source)
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“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you were running across the road to jump into a cab that was available. Your phone hadn't been charging all night as you thought it had which caused you to wake up forty-five minutes before the start of the interview. You need this internship before you graduate from Empire State and get your degree in robotics.
On the way there, you nearly got car sick as the driver took sharp turns and nearly ran past intersections seconds before they became red. Once in front of Hammer Industries, your heels clicked loudly as you ran inside the tall building. You checked in with the front desk and took the elevator up to the 10th floor.
Just as you arrived, Justin Hammer was calling your name. “I'm right here!” you nearly tripped on your heels and your breaths were short.
“I've called your name three times, do you understand what that makes you look like, correct?” Justin stood unphased as you stood up straight and tried to steady your breath. “All these people are on time. Some of these folks have been here for hours, even.”
“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry–”
“Shame, I really liked your resume and your report on the expansion of nano-technology. Try again next year, maybe.” Justin started to call out the next participant and when she got up you stepped in front of her, “Please Mr. Hammer, I need this internship or I can't graduate.”
The people in the waiting room had their eyes on the two of you, tension so thick that it was almost hard to breathe. “Then maybe you should have come on time,” he pushed you aside to let the next person in to interview. You quickly ran back out and spoke to no one all the way home. Your eyes and cheeks were aching as you held in the tears during your Uber ride. The driver wanted to ask if you were okay, but if you were to break down in his car he’d probably be stuck having to listen to what happened and if he was honest with himself, he didn't actually care.
Once you got to your apartment, you made a straight line to the kitchen. “Hey, how’d the interview go?” MJ, your roommate, asked while still looking at her computer. You reached into the freezer for your emergency ice cream pint, snatched a spoon and walked into your room without saying anything. “That bad, I guess,” MJ said to herself.
:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:
You sat with MJ and Ned in the cafeteria, but had not touched any of the food on your plate. Your head was laid on the steel table and you just continuously groaned. “I’m a failure,” you whined.
“No, what you are is fucking dumb,” MJ commented as she ate.
“Thanks, Michelle, that makes me feel so much better,” you looked up to glare at her before laying her head back down. Ned felt bad that his friend was in despair, “How come you didn't ask Peter for help?”
“Huh?” you lifted your head back up some of your hair falling onto your face.
“Yeah, Peter already works at Stark Industries, why didn't you just ask him to get you in? You could even skip the internship altogether and be in full time,” Ned suggested. You gave it some thought, but something about it didn't sound right.
“No, I don't want to bother Peter. I don’t want him to think that I’m only calling him for a job,” you sighed. Ned texted Peter anyways. Unexpectedly, Peter texted him back immediately.
“He says it’s fine,” Ned showed you his phone to read the text. ‘Yeah man, tell her to come in tomorrow and Ms. Potts will interview her’
You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding and pulled out your phone.
‘Thank you so much for helping me out’
(…)
‘No problem, anything for a friend’
:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:
The Stark Industries building was huge. It almost looked taller than the Empire State Building, and maybe it actually was. Your legs were shaking as you stared up at it. “Here goes nothing,” you assured yourself.
The lobby was bustling with people; workers walking around, a group of kids that seemed to be here on a field trip, and some teens taking pictures in front of one of Mr. Stark's Iron Man suits.
The trip up to the 17th floor was crowded with people as more and more entered in every passing floor. You had to squeeze yourself out and accidentally stepped on someone’s foot in the process.
Looking around, your jaw dropped. It was an open laboratory with groups of people putting together small robots, flying drones, and people laughing and talking. It was such a fun and cool looking environment, you wondered why you didn't just apply here in the first place.
Pepper Potts spotted you walking around and approached you with a tap on your shoulder. “Hi, I’m Pepper. You must be Y/N,” she reached her hand out to shake yours which you accepted. “Hi, nice to meet you.”
“Peter’s told me a lot about you. Come, follow me,” Pepper’s office had glass walls and a view of New York from behind her desk. You weren't particularly fond of heights, but even you would love to have an office view like that. Pepper gestured to the chair in front of her as she smoothed her dress to sit in hers. “So, I see here that you had an interview at Hammer’s. Can I ask why you chose them?” You didn't even know how they got that information. You hadn't seen or spoken to Peter in quite a while, so how Pepper knew that was beyond you. You sat there with your lips moving to say something but nothing was coming out.
Pepper seemed to have caught on what you were thinking and elaborated, “Before I do any interviewing, I do full background checks on everyone.” She had a gentle smile which made you feel better. You thought she would scold you or something considering the question did more than catch you off guard.
“My mother used to work there for a long time and I figured that I would follow,” you explained. Pepper nodded her head and wrote some notes down. She looked onto her computer and looked at everything there was about you. “Well, I see here that you have exceptional grades. 4.7 GPA since you started school and your paper on nano-technology has gotten much praise. I think even Tony read it.” No way. The Tony Stark read my paper? “So tell me, do you see yourself working here at Stark Industries?”
You looked outside and watched everyone in the open lab again. “Yes.”
“Then that’s all I need to hear. We’d love to have you here,” she reached over to shake your hand. You looked at her surprised and hesitantly shook hers. “Welcome to the team, Y/N.”
“Thank you so much!” You cupped her hand with both of yours and shook it a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to mind. You were ecstatic to start your path to your career, and at a dream place at that.
:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:
Your alarm rang at the time you set it to, but there was no need for it. You couldn't sleep all night. Today is your first day of your internship and you were feeling so many things at once. Excited, nervous, happy, scared…
You tried to restrain yourself to a light breakfast, but MJ’s pancakes were to die for that you ate two whole stacks. You looked through your closet just about fifteen times; you had already picked an outfit the following night with the help of MJ, but when you put it back on, you hated it. It sucked for your roommate seeing as she had to sit through you changing from eight other outfits.
You tried to picture the lab again to see how other people dressed for a better idea to base it on your outfit choice. From what you remember, it was pretty casual, so that’s what you stuck to.
You were given your pass the day you were hired, so you had no issue walking inside. The elevator was just as packed as it was last time, but you were more composed so there were no toes being stepped on this time. You weren't exactly sure as to where you had to go, so you looked around to see if there were other interns to ask where to start.
“Y/N!” Peter’s voice surprised you from behind. Your shoulders jumped a bit, but relaxed at the view of his face. His face… you actually hadn't seen him for quite a while. Months, maybe. His jawline was more defined, and his once floppy hair was styled neatly. You tried to not look him up and down, but the temptation was definitely there. And the other thing, his voice was deeper than you last remembered. Is this really Peter Parker? “Hey, Peter.”
He gave you a hug that nearly made you lose breath. He was stronger than you remembered. A memory flashed back to when you were in junior high; you, Ned and Peter were hanging around the local park and you beat Peter on rounds on the monkey bars. He gave up after a couple bars, but you went back and forth a couple times. ‘Show off.’ But now, he had muscles that the shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps.
The hug was quick, and you had to pretend that he didn't just squeeze some life out of you. “Do you work on this floor?”
“Yeah, you’re actually assigned to work with my team. Come, I’ll show you around.” He started walking and you noticed how his posture changed. Damn, I know it hasn't been this long since I've seen him. Why does he look so different? He was wearing trousers. Trousers? Peter hates trousers. But his ass is looking great–
“Hey guys, this is Y/N. She’s going to be working with us as an intern. And I'll say this beforehand, no she's not going to be taking coffee or lunch orders,” Peter introduced you. There were various aged people in this group. Some were your age, and one person looked to have been in his thirties. Peter is in charge of this group? They all said ‘hi’ to you and went around introducing themselves.
Once that was finished, Peter pulled a chair for you on the table. “You’ll take notes for me while I give this presentation,” he whispered to you before walking in front of the table and started writing on the clear glass board.
He was talking quickly and didn't stumble over his words like he used to. Everyone was listening to him attentively and you jotted notes down as quickly as you could. Every now and then, you would steal glimpses of him and feel a sort of… well you felt something. Amazement? Inspiration? Adoration?
No doubt was Peter one of the smartest people you've ever met and here he was leading his own team and making potential products for Stark Industries at such a young age. Seeing him at work was so… it was indescribable to you but all you could think of was how different he is now. In a good way, of course.
Peter Parker has been your friend for years and to see him change from a bumbling, shy, adorable nerd into a confident, intelligent working man attracted you.
When you got home, you thought a lot about your first day. Being an intern at Stark Industries was really fun, so far. You weren't expected to do silly things like get coffee or lunch for everyone or pick up someone’s dry cleaning. You actually learned something and even had your opinions heard on some of the things that Peter suggested for his team’s upcoming product presentation.
If this is what it's like to be an intern, you couldn't imagine what it would be like working full time.
“How'd it go?” MJ stuck her head in your room. “It was fun. I'm working with Peter,” you explained your day to her.
“Cool,” was the last thing she said before she went to her own room for the night.
:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:
In the past few months, your internship at Stark’s has been going swimmingly. Everyone's been so nice, and the work is so fascinating. You've gotten closer with Peter and along the way, he felt like he was more than a friend and boss to you.
Currently, everyone was getting ready for their final presentations for the upcoming annual Stark Industries Convention. It was going to be Peter’s first year presenting his own project with his team and you were so excited to be a part of it.
The time you’ve spent with Peter was really fun. He was a good mentor and a great friend. The only thing was that you couldn't help but look at him a little too long, and you’ve found yourself thinking about him during your classes or doing your homework. The shy boy from Midtown High was no more, replaced– no, grown into the Peter you know now. But you pushed all feelings aside to focus on your next thesis paper and mock-up of the handout brochures of Peter’s project.
Sometimes, you didn't even feel like an intern as Peter would ask for any ideas you had to make the project better and even let you help with assembly. He stayed true to his words and you’ve never once had to run for coffee or things like that. There’d be times when you would study some of the little parts under a magnifying glass and he’d come up slightly behind you and explain about some of the bits on the working table.
And every time he did that, your breath would be stuck in your throat and you’d have to remind yourself that this was just Peter helping you out and you’re just learning. But it was normal to want more every now and then… right?
:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:
The convention was just a few days away and you had trouble finding something to wear. These events were usually black tie events, but did that mean the presenting teams as well? Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?
One of the guys on your team, Richie, sat with you during lunch and talked about how he was probably going to wear the same suit as always. Not because he couldn't afford a new suit, but he was just a simple person and he only wears it once a year for the conventions and that’s all, so it’s still in mint condition.
The girls on your team and some from others were going dress shopping the day before and invited you to join. You were excited mainly because now you don't have to bother MJ for it.
Speaking of MJ, you were going to ask her to come with you. Pepper sent out the electronic invitations to everyone in the company and authorized plus ones to even interns. She’s never been to one – for reasons you were still confused about – but you wanted your best friend to be there for you. And if not MJ, then you bet Ned would still come with you. Wait, what if he’s going with Peter?
On cue, Peter had sat in the chair next to yours in the small break room, “Hey, Y/N.”
“Oh, hey Pete. You excited for Saturday?” Peter quietly stirred his coffee and gave you a small smile, “Uh, yeah. I’m nervous, but I’ve worked really hard on this. And everyone, too. Including you.”
You slightly blushed. I didn't do all that much you thought. You two just sat there taking small sips from the hot, bitter beverage.
“So… I wanted to ask you something,” Peter started.
“Mhm?” The coffee nearly slipped past your lips. You quickly grabbed a napkin to lightly dab some of it off of your lips.
“Well, as you know, we can bring anyone with us to the convention,” he trailed off.
“Yes?” Is he going to…
“And I wanted to know if you were bringing MJ with you.” Oh. You nodded your head and thought you hid your disappointment well but without knowing, Peter actually caught it for a split second. “Good. You can come with me,” he smiled and stood up.
You were in awe; without effort, Peter just asked you to be his date for Saturday.
:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:。・:*:・゚’★,。・:*:・゚’☆:
“Dude, how are you not ready yet? He’s gonna be here any minute,” MJ sat at her computer per usual working. Your music was too loud for her taste playing from your shared bathroom. Peter said he would pick you up at 7, and it was currently 6:50.
You had put on and removed your make-up at least five times. Something was always wrong; one of the wings would either be thicker than the other, the blush would be the wrong shade, or the lipliner kept going out of place. But, alas, you finally nailed it.
Your hair was styled half up with elegant curls and braids. In between some braids were little bits of baby’s breath flowers. Most likely, you were going to have a hard time taking those out but they looked cute and it was too late to take them out.
Your dress was right above your knee and flowed comfortably so you wouldn't have a hard time walking. It was a neutral taupe color and had a V-line that ended just above cleavage and hugged the curve of your waist. You paired it with simple black heels and a small, white handbag.
“He’s here,” MJ informed you.
“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “what do you think?” You spun around and held your arms out. “You look really pretty. Now go get ‘em. I’ll watch it on the live stream.” She gave you a lazy thumbs up and resumed her work.
Outside was Peter in an all-black apparel. His dress shirt had only one button undone, and he had a loose blazer that accentuated the dip of his shoulders. He stood against the limo with his hands at his sides. God, he’s gonna be the death of me.
When he caught sight of you, he had a flirtatious smirk on his lips and held out for your hand. “Peter, where’d this limo come from?”
“Mr. Stark set it up for me,” he stated like it was no big deal. Must be nice being his favorite. He held the door for you to climb in and closed the door behind him. “We’re ready, Happy,” he told the driver. Happy rolled his eyes, closed the window and drove off.
The convention was off to a great start; Tony Stark came in with his suit as he always loved to do and started introductions before everyone else scattered around to look at the projects of the many departments in his company. Some groups of certain departments had large stages, some had small stands, like Peter’s.
There were still large crowds coming to see the smaller presentations, and everyone seemed to be fascinated with Peter's. You stood on the side as his team operated the machine and Peter spoke. He looked confident and it was mesmerizing to watch him.
After the night was over, all employee’s and some guests were brought back to headquarters for the after party. You walked around with Peter and had flutters in your heart every time he held the small of your back. The most exciting part of the night was meeting Tony Stark in person. He greeted Peter warmly, and then his eyes landed on you, “Peter, who’s this?”
“Oh, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of mine,” he gestured for you. You shook Tony’s hand and stood starstruck. “The one you don’t shut up about?” Pepper hit his shoulder and laughed nervously.
“Wait, I’ve heard about you. Buddy of mine works at Empire State and he showed me your paper, it was really good.” You were still shocked that he had even read it and here he was talking to you about it. You went back and forth talking about nano-technology.
On the way home, you and Peter talked and laughed about things you told him as you caught him up to what was happening on campus when he couldn't be there. It was a really fun night, and Peter was more noticeably relaxed now that the hard part was over. “Alright, home sweet home,” Happy announced through the window.
“Well, that’s me,” you smiled sadly, not wanting the night to end. You reached to open the door but Peter climbed out from his side. He walked around to open your door and just like he did earlier, held his hand out for you to grab and assist you out the limo. What was different this time was that he kept his hand in yours as he walked you to the door of the apartments. “I had a great time with you tonight,” Peter confessed.
“Me too,” your voice was soft and low for only him to hear. Peter’s eyes switched from looking into yours to your lips before he grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you. The kiss was needy, passionate, but had a certain gentleness to it. Once he felt you kiss him back with the same fervor, he deepened the kiss and brought one hand to pull your waist closer to him.
You pulled apart to regain your breath and looked to admire his swollen lips and he copied the same notion. He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss and pulled away, “Good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, Peter.” Your cheeks were flushed and your face was warm. You watched him as he left and ran inside. Upstairs in your apartment, you found MJ and Ned sitting on the couch with a bag of chips in each of their hands.
“Good night?” Ned asked. You just nodded and walked slowly to your room.
“We saw the whole thing, by the way,” MJ said nonchalantly. You looked back to glare at your best friends, Ned smiling innocently at you and MJ keeping her straight face.
You changed into your pajamas and laid on your bed on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You couldn't wait to go back to work on Monday.
requests open!
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chaoticforever · 4 years ago
Text
Ghost In Your Heart | Peter Parker x Male! Reader
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Peter decided to eat the sandwich he got from Delmar's Deli & Grill at the park, since the crime rates this week have been kinda low, giving Peter some time to himself. 
He walked into the park and saw many parents sitting with their kids, adults playing frisbee with their dogs, and finally his gaze landed on someone sitting on the park bench with colored pencils and a sketchbook. 
He couldn't really make out your face from where he was standing, due to the fact that you were wearing a cap and your gaze was on your sketchbook. You looked very focused and concentrated on whatever you were drawing. 
Peter watched as you put down a blue colored pencil only to pick up a red one. 
He didn't know why he was so curious to see what you were drawing, but his interest was peaked and before he knew it, his legs started moving to where the drawing male was currently sitting. 
Displayed on the sketchbook was a drawing of Spiderman. 
To say that this person had artistic abilities would be an understatement. 
The picture was so well drawn that it looked realistic. Like it should be held in a museum. The image was Spiderman shooting a web shooter with a few other buildings in the background. This had to be one of the best art works that Peter has ever seen. 
"Don't you know it's rude to stare at random people or their artwork?" You questioned, looking up from your sketching and arching an eyebrow. 
Peter looked at you and blushed from slight embarrassment at being caught, as you waited for him to respond. 
"I'm really sorry for staring. It's just that your drawing looked so amazing and-"
A chuckle erupted from your throat,   "I'm just messing with you. It's okay to stare at my drawings. You want to see some more?" You offered, scooting over in case he wanted to sit down. 
Peter didn't really want to intrude on you having time to yourself. He did come here to eat his lunch, but he was curious to see what other drawings you had. 
He reluctantly sat down next to you on the bench, and placed his sandwich in his lap as you passed him the sketchbook. 
He flipped through various pages of the book and amazement was shown on the wall-crawler's face. 
The artistic abilities that you seemed to have was amazing. There were lots of drawings of people Peter has never seen before, so he assumed they were your family or friends. There were pictures of Mr. Stark in his Iron Man suit and some of Captain America. It's like you managed to capture who they really are in these drawings. 
"I know there not the best drawings but-"
"Are you kidding me? These drawings are amazing!" Peter commented, and a look of surprise and appreciation crossed your face. 
"Well, thank you..." You trailed off, wanting to know this male's name. 
"Oh, my name is Peter, Peter Parker." He introduced himself. 
"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N. Y/N L/N." You introduced yourself, extending your hand out for a handshake. Peter shook your hand and was surprised that your hands were so cold and the tough grip you had, and you thought the same for Peter. 
You took your sketchbook back and picked up a drawing pencil, working on the drawing that you started earlier that day as Peter decided to finally eat his sandwich.
The two of you continued to speak, as Peter ate and you drawed.  
Peter glanced over to see what you were drawing next and he choked on his food, eyes widening in surprise, "You like Star Wars?" He asked, happiness welling up inside his chest. 
You gave him a slight nod of your head, "I love Star Wars. I'm secretly a nerd inside, so don't tell anyone about that." 
Multiple cop cars could be heard and seen following a black minivan, as Peter suddenly stood up, his spider senses going off like crazy. 
"I have to go now, Y/N. It was nice meeting you and I hope to see you again." 
Without waiting for a response, Peter ran off into the nearest alley. He quickly took off his clothes and put on his Spidey-Suit. He stuck his backpack somewhere where no one could find it, and used his web shooters to swing from building to building to catch the criminals in the black minivan. 
After fighting criminals, patrolling the neighborhood, and eating dinner with Aunt May, Peter flopped onto his bed and his mind drifted to thoughts of you. 
Mysterious was one word to describe you. 
He wondered why he had never seen you before. You looked to be around his age, 18/19 years old. He wondered if you went to Midtown High. He never saw you around school before, so maybe you haven't enrolled yet? 
You seem very smart and well educated that made Peter think that you went to Midtown High, but there are other schools in New York, so maybe you just went to a different school. 
He hoped that he would see you again. 
He didn't know why he wanted to see someone he has never seen before, but you intrigued him. He remembered everything about you. You're amazing lookin' H/C hair, shiny E/C eyes, and the scar you had above your eyebrow. 
Peter wondered how you got that scar. He hoped to learn more things about his new friend and would stop by the park to see you again. He hoped that you went to Midtown High. 
XXXXX XXXXX 
It has been a month since Peter met you and he couldn't have been any more happier than he was when was with you.
Peter has been stopping by the park to see you whenever he got the chance, and he loved talking to you about everything and nothing. He mostly loved being in your presence. 
Ned even noticed how happy he looked and more vibrant he became. He would tease Peter all the time that he had a boyfriend to which he denied and blushed bright red. 
Although, he did find you attractive and might have masturbated to you a couple times, it was pretty obvious that you were straight, so nothing could happen between you guys anyway even though he wanted more. 
"Do you go to Midtown High?" Peter asked the question that has been on his mind. 
You rubbed the back of your neck and ran your fingers over the small cut, "Um, I used to go to that school, but I left during my Junior year." You answered. 
"Oh, so are you homeschooled?" 
Peter figured that if you weren't in regular school, then you had to be homeschooled and that would explain why he hasn't seen you around. 
"Something like that." You laughed, bringing your gaze down to your sketchbook. 
"Do your parents know that you spend most of your time in the park?" Ned asked, having heard from Peter that you spend most of your time here. 
"Uh, they really don't care where I'm at." You replied, voice low that made Ned think that he shouldn't have asked that question. Peter hoped the question didn't offend you in any way, but it seemed that it might have. 
Luckily, you didn't seem too upset and changed the conversation. 
The conversation launched into Ned and Peter nerding out about star wars with you chiming in occasionally, as you looked through the sketches you've drawn. 
"Uh, Y/N. Do you maybe wanna help me and Ned build an enormous Death Star LEGO set?" Peter asked with a mix of nervousness and hopefulness in his voice, silently waiting and hoping that you would say yes. Ned wanted the same thing, too. 
You gave the two an apologetic look which resulted in a slight frown on Peter's face. He really wanted to spend time with you somewhere other than the park, but he figured you were busy. You most likely had other friends to hang with, after all. Or spending time with other people. 
"I can't do that because unfortunately, I've been dead since 1995." 
XXXXX XXXXX
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dal3ks · 4 years ago
Text
coming home
pairing: peter parker x female reader 
word count: 2.7k
warnings: sexual remarks, smut, cursing, allusions to sex, marking 
a/n: this was a fic i had posted on my main account @a-dorin​, but i am in the process of switching over content so that it is a strictly star wars account! just a disclaimer, i am not plagiarizing or stealing content, as this is my fic! 
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“so when does your flight leave columbus?” peter asked, his voice thick with sleep. 
“tomorrow at nine a.m.,” you answered, “i can’t wait to see you.”
he beamed, “me either, love. it’s been a long three months without you.”
currently, you were sitting in your dorm room at ohio state university. you were on a facetime call with your boyfriend, peter parker. it was approaching midnight, 11:38 p.m., to be exact.
 the next morning, you would be boarding a plane home. you were beyond excited to see everyone during thanksgiving break, as you hadn’t seen your parents in a few weeks. parent’s weekend was the last week of october, so it had been a while. 
your heart ached at the thought of being curled up in bed with your dogs. your heart also ached at the thought of being curled up with your sweet, loving, boy.
peter had opted for a small private college in town for engineering and psychics. since he was a part of the avengers, they provided most of the funds for his tuition. it also helped that stark industries was on his résumé. meanwhile, you were about five hundred and thirty-three miles away in columbus.
yet, ohio state was your dream school. you wanted to go there since you could remember. it also helped that your father was an alumni. the university granted you a scholarship for that, and your ACT and SAT scores helped as well. you felt extremely blessed to be at your dream school, and you always remembered to remain humble.
“well babe,” peter began, “i need to start my term paper for my english class. anything on your mind before i go?”
“i just can’t wait to fuck you,” the words tumbled out of your mouth, and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.
peter raised a brow, “oh really? well, i can say the same for you princess.”
hearing your favorite nickname made your heart skip a beat, “i’m sorry i said that.”
“don’t be sorry,” peter smirked, “i loved hearing that. just you wait, princess. i’ll take care of you, just like i always do.”
“i want you now,” you whined.
“wait twenty-four hours and you’ll have me,” peter cooed, “i promise, princess. i have to go work on this paper, okay? i love you. text me.”
you pouted, jutting out your lip. peter sighed, “i can’t get distracted. it’s a ten page research paper. it’s really important babe.”
“okayyyy,” you huffed, picking a string on your comforter, “i love you too. see you tomorrow, handsome.”
“see you tomorrow, beautiful,” peter grinned, and the facetime call ended.
you plugged in your phone, letting it charge. you used to have a roommate, until she had to transfer in the middle of the semester. now, there was more empty space in the room. it was truly inevitable not to feel so lonely. especially when you were so fucking far away from everyone.
you hopped out of bed, opening the curtains. from your hall, you could see some of the glittering lights of the city. you could feel your heart aching, longing for the familiarity of your home. queens was your home. columbus was your second home. no where could ever compare to the place you grew up.
only a few more hours, though, and you would be home.
******
“is this seat open still?” a voice interrupted your thoughts.
startled, you glanced up to see a young man standing in the aisle of the airplane. even though you had the middle seat, the plane wasn’t entirely full. you decided to scoot closer to the window so you could see the sky.
you nodded, and the young man slid in beside you, “sorry, my seat was supposed to be the window seat, but i think you’re sitting in it. i don’t want to make you move. besides, looking out scares me a little bit.”
“i’m so sorry,” you apologized, “i didn’t know. you can have it back if you want.”
“oh no,” the man chuckled, “it’s not a big deal. don’t even worry about it.”
“where you flying to?” you inquired, as the man settled in his seat, “i’m (y/n), by the way.”
“i’m trying to get to manhattan,” the guy shrugged, “i’m aiden.”
“oh that’s cool!” you nodded, “i’m from queens.”
“gotcha,” aiden smiled, “actually, i’m coming from ohio state. i’m guessing you attend there as well?”
“yes,” you gushed, “i’m a kinesiology major, how about you?”
“i was a political science,” aiden replied, pulling out his phone, “but i switched to business. international marketing, specifically. i’m a junior though. i assume that you’re a freshman?”
“yep,” you answered, “navigating everything myself.”
“you’re not doing too bad,” he chuckled, “our background has probably helped a lot. do you have a snapchat or anything like that? don’t worry, i’m not hitting on you or anything. if you have a boyfriend back home, or at ohio state, i completely respect that. i just don’t want someone struggling alone. i’m not saying you are struggling, but i know the ins and outs of the school. if you ever need anything, feel free to ask.”
“oh yeah, i do,” you pulled your phone out of your pocket, “i’ll just add it to my notes and add you later. you’re extremely kind.”
“it’s not a problem,” aiden smiled, and that’s when you truly got a good look at him.
he was more than likely a college athlete. probably at ohio state for something like rugby, lacrosse, or rowing. he was fit, with a darker complexion. freckles dotted the bridge of his nose, and his dark brown curls were full. his jawline was clean, his handsome face completed with hazel eyes. god, if you weren’t single, you probably would have tried to make a move on the guy. he was gorgeous.
however, your anticipation to see the love of you life was eating away at you. your knee bounced up and down as you talked to aiden the rest of the flight. it was nice to have someone to talk to, as the it made the time fly by.
in no time, the plane was landing. aiden followed you as you boarded off, and towards the gate. security and bag checks felt like forever, but you finally made it through. you said your goodbyes to aiden, hoping that you two would reconnect once again. almost immediately, you were entering the train that was going to take you to your next stop. then, you would only be walking a couple blocks home. peter informed you that as soon as you were home, he was gonna come over.
you were excited, but a little anxious. insecurities started to creep into your thoughts. what if you had gained a noticeable amount of weight since the last time you saw him? what if you looked different? what if you weren’t good enough? even the thought of being naked in front of peter frightened you. however, you figured it was a little normal to be a little anxious. after all, it had been about three months since the last time you saw him.
suddenly, you were home. in front of you was your house, the crisp blue sky making the white paint appear clean and bright. the late november air was brittle, and the sun was on its way to dip over the horizon soon. skyscrapers in the skyline began to glisten as the sky got darker and darker. the traffic, people, and animals all became white noise as you walked up the sidewalk.
happiness flooded over you, especially as soon as you heard your dogs barking. you turned the knob, opening the door. your parents welcomed you with warm hugs, your dogs jumping everywhere with excitement.
after talking with your parents for a while, you trudged upstairs to your room. as soon as you opened the door of your room, you let out a sigh of happiness. so this is what pure happiness felt like. the feeling of bliss was immense.
you heard some commotion from your dogs downstairs, which you figured was a passerby or an animal. it happened often in your neighborhood. you could hear someone walking up the steps, and you inferred it was one of your parents.
it was not your mom or your dad. it was peter. immediately he scooped you into his embrace, and you felt yourself crumple into his arms. tears rolled down your cheeks as he squeezed you slightly, kissing the top of your head.
“i had no idea you were on your way,” you sniffled.
“once you stopped responding to my snaps for a bit i was worried,” peter murmured, “but i figured you were here. so i just decided to head this way.”
“i love you,” your eyes met his, “i love you so much.”
“i love you too,” peter grinned, “i love you more than you know, princess.”
******
“so what were you saying yesterday?” peter turned to you.
you raised a brow, confused, “what are you talking about?”
currently, you two were in your bed cuddling. it was the day before thanksgiving, so your parents were out buying groceries for the big dinner. so that left you and peter alone. the room was dimly lit by the christmas lights strung on the ceiling, and your favorite playlist was on low volume. peter’s shirt was off, and so were your pants. it just made things more comfortable.
“you talked about wanting to fuck me,” he answered, gently kissing your neck. he ran his fingers through your hair, “or was i mistaken?”
“i think you have a hearing deficiency,” you snorted, rolling over.
“heyyy,” peter whined, “how about i give you a back rub?”
the idea was tempting. it had been a long time since you had received a backrub from peter. sighing, you slipped off your hoodie, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. you laid on your stomach, and peter straddled your back.
his hands worked in gentle, soothing patterns on your skin. they stayed on your shoulders and back for a while, but started to drift downwards towards the small of your back, along with your butt. as he continued, you could almost feel the sexual tension in the air of the room. it was almost electric between the two of you as his hands roamed your body.
“hey princess,” peter’s voice was low, “can i take off your thong?”
you felt yourself stiffen, “no.”
“is something wrong?” his tone shifted from lust to fear. peter shifted his body so that he was now laying beside you again, “baby, what’s wrong?”
“i feel ugly,” you muttered, “it’s been a while, and i don’t know, i guess i feel insecure.”
“hey,” peter’s hand cupped your face, “you’re still beautiful (y/n) i fell in love with. i don’t care if anything has changed. if there are more stretch marks, i’ll kiss them all. whatever you’re worried about, let me handle, okay? you’re beautiful, (y/n). you’re so gorgeous. three months has no change to your beauty.”
“i love you,” your bottom lip trembled, and your eyes were brimmed with tears.
“i love you more,” peter’s lips met yours gently. he pulled back for a second, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
peter looked as handsome as ever. it was clear he just shaved, as his face was clean. his floppy brown hair was somewhat contained, and his brown eyes shown, as there was nothing but love for you in his eyes. his lips were full, and he a looked wiser than he did since the last time you saw him. you figured stress, college, and being a hero all were factors. his muscles were apparent, rippling whenever he moved. god, you were so lucky to have this man.
you pressed your lips to peter’s, this time a little more forceful. he was taken a back by your actions, but regained control. he licked your bottom lip, and his tongue entered your mouth. he shifted you so that you were now underneath him. his callused hands trailed down the sides of your body, going up and down in slow motions. you could tell he was being careful, as you both wanted to enjoy this moment between the two of you.
“fuck,” peter mumbled.
“what?” your lips were still against his.
“i’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” he admitted, “i can’t wait to make you cum.”
“then do it,” your words almost pushed him over the edge.
he tilted your head up, kissing directly under your jawline. you moaned softly, urging him to continue. he placed sloppy kisses down your neck, nipping at your skin. he had barely even started with you and you could feel how wet you were.
“can i take this off?” peter’s breath was hot against your skin.
“yes,” you answered, arching your back so his hands could unclasp your bra. he casted it to floor.
he placed kisses all over your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your thong.
“is it okay if i take this off too?” his tone was full of lust, you could tell he was beyond turned on.
peter’s cheeks were a slight tinge of pink, and his ears burned bright red. you figured you were just as bad, as you laid naked in front of him. his eyes casted over your entire body, taking it all in.
“you’re so beautiful,” peter seemed completely awestruck, “like fuck. can you do something for me princess?”
“what’s that?” you bit your lip.
“please sit on my face,” his question was more a plead as the words tumbled out of his mouth, “i want you to ride my face.”
“peter i don’t know,” your were unsure. it had been a while since you tried that position with him, and you didn’t want to suffocate your own boyfriend.
“i’ll still be able to breathe baby,” peter chuckled, as if he was reading your thoughts, “please? i need to taste my princess.”
his words were enough. you nodded, and peter laid on his back. nervously, you swung one leg over his body, and he pulled you closer to where he wanted you. once you were situated, his eyes met yours once more.
“just relax,” peter cooed, gently kissing each one of your thighs.
his tongue found your clit, going in slow, circular motions. a moan escaped your lips, only encouraging peter to keep going. one hand was on the small of your back to keep you steady, the other reaching up for your breasts. he began to suck slightly, which drove you closer and closer to your orgasm. god, you had missed this. peter knew exactly what you loved, and he showed no signs of slowing down either.
peter glanced up at you, watching as you moaned for him. his tongue slowly began to lick up and down, “such a good girl, keep moaning for me. i love when you’re loud.”
your moans echoed off the walls as peter continued to lick all over your pussy. his fingers tugged at your nipples, and you could feel your orgasm coming. you came without warning, your vision becoming blurry. your thighs trembled as pleasure washed all over you. peter gave your pussy one final lick, sending a shudder through your body.
“are you okay?” peter’s voice was no longer demanding. it was more gentle and soft. he helped you off his body, laying down with you in the bed. he began to trace his fingers down your exposed back, going in slow, soothing motions.
you nodded, “just tired, now.”
peter smirked, “did i wear you out?”
“just a little bit,” you scoffed, rolling over.
“don’t roll away from meeee,” he protested, wrapping you up in his arms, “i love you, princess.”
“i love you too,” you whispered, giving him a chaste kiss.
peter sighed with content, pulling you closer to his body. the door to your room was shut, so your parents wouldn’t bother the two of you. as you began to run your fingers through your hair, peter began to drift off. soon enough, he was out, his chest rising and falling. it wasn’t too long after that you fell yourself yourself.
coming home to peter was your favorite thing in the world.
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nogreatillusion · 4 years ago
Text
I know I’m in no position to complain. People are sick and dying and being killed. People are running out of money for food and medicine. People are losing loved ones and risking their lives to save others. I’m lucky as hell, and privileged beyond belief.
But! I couldn’t stop thinking in the shower today of everything that didn’t happen because of COVID. All the ways my life changed course, even as I insisted that things were staying very much the same.
Before coronavirus, I was just beginning to come out of the fog of early motherhood. Every mother experiences parenthood differently, but for me, it was a time where the world outside my home seemed exhausting. Leaving the house felt impossible. It entailed making sure that both the baby and I were clean and dressed, that his bag was packed with diapers and wipes and extra clothes and a bottle and a toy to keep him busy and the bags to hold dirty diapers in case I had to change him in the car, and and and. Then I had to get us into our coats and wrestle him into his impossibly heavy carseat and find my purse and my keys and my phone and carry all of those things, including the baby, out to the car, struggling, breathless across the lawn. Then I had to drive, which was, itself still a new, terrifying endeavor for me, made all the more terrifying by the child in the backseat, the fear that I would make a mistake and cause him harm. It felt so overwhelming that most days I just didn’t leave the house.
But finally, finally, almost exactly a year after I became a mother, I was gaining confidence with this whole process. My arms were stronger and I was only a little bit frazzled each time I heaved the car seat into the car and settled myself into the driver’s seat, where I felt only a little bit like I didn’t belong. I took him to the bagel shop and the bakery and the thrift store. I was a pro at getting the car seat snapped into the stroller (an ordeal that once took Ben and me together a solid ten minutes of aggravated jiggling and swearing to complete), and getting the stroller refolded and slid into the trunk at the specific angle that makes it easy to remove again. I felt... comfortable. Independent. Free!
It’s now been four months since I’ve taken him anywhere other than an empty park, or his grandmother’s front lawn. I am very much confined to the house (as we all are!), once again.
Before COVID, I had just recently joined a gym. I was getting up in the mornings and walking (fairly slowly) uphill on the treadmill while watching Anne With an E on the tiny screen, and coming home feeling accomplished and relaxed.
Before COVID, I was planning Arlo’s first birthday party. I had bought Peter Rabbit paper plates, napkins, and banners, and little Beatrix Potter cupcake decorations. He turned one months ago and they’re all still sitting in a bag in the pantry.
Before COVID, I had begun looking into enrolling in a writing class at Syracuse University, partly to write, but mostly to have some time away from the house, to meet people and maybe even make a friend.
Before COVID, I was counting down the days until it would be warm enough to take Arlo to the playground, where he could meet other children and I could get up the nerve to strike up a conversation with their parents.
Before COVID, I had just opened my first Etsy shop, selling vintage children’s clothes. I was thrifting 3 or 4 days a week. It was envigorating to have this new project — something that was just mine, outside of motherhood.
The day before quarantine began, a nice lady invited me to join the neighborhood women’s group, which met monthly in the homes of different neighbors.
My father’s birthday party was set for a week after quarantine started. Arlo would meet some extended family for the first time, and I would get to see my grandmother, who lives hours away in a nursing home. Her mental state has been rapidly deteriorating as dementia has set in. I knew it might be my last chance to see her while she still knew me. The party was cancelled, and my grandmother hasn’t been allowed visitors for months.
I know my life is good. I know my complaints are mostly small and unimportant. I’ve been trying to put my energy outward when I can, figuring out ways to help my community.
But I would just like to say that I miss going places and doing things. I miss weekend trips to visit friends. I miss being a person outside of the house. I miss watching Arlo’s grandparents hold him and make him laugh. I miss remembering that I exist outside of childcare (which, to be clear, is a thing I still love and treasure!). I’m sad that no one else is really getting to see him as he changes (so quickly) from baby to toddler.
And now that I’ve complained, I am going to make myself some breakfast and wake my baby from his nap and love the life I have now, today, because it’s all there is.
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froggy-beans · 4 years ago
Text
when I’m lost (I feel so very found)
by cold_nights_summer_days for @hold-our-destiny
rating: creator chose not to use archive warnings
relationships: Peter Parker and Tony Stark, Tony Stark and Pepper Potts
characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Original Female Characters, Happy Hogan
summary: Written for The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange using the prompt "homeless peter meets tony and they bond."
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Peter panicked and glanced around for a different escape route. A dark alley caught his eye, but before he could veer into it, he felt himself collide with something solid and warm. A person. Both of them went sprawling to the ground. The gritty sidewalk cut into Peter’s palms and knees painfully, and his shoulder didn’t feel too hot either, but he was more concerned about his backpack, which had skidded forwards a few feet.
He scrambled up, ignoring the stinging in his hands. The backpack. He had to get the backpack. That was all he had, everything he owned was in that ratty backpack. Before he could get his hands on it, though, he was stopped by the stranger he’d collided with. Guilt twisted in Peter’s gut; he hadn’t even thought to apologize. Three months on the street and he’d already forgotten everything his parents had taught him.
@friendly-neighborhood-exchange
read on ao3
               Tony paced back and forth in his living room, hating that each of his footsteps could be heard echoing on the empty walls. It was late and he couldn’t sleep. He didn’t want to—or couldn’t—deal with the nightmares that he knew would be waiting for him when he did. Afghanistan, the wormhole, Sokovia . . . he was just so tired of seeing it all play out over and over and over again. And with Pepper gone, the Rogue Avengers off doing whatever, and Rhodey in rehab, there was no one left to force him to go to bed. (Except Friday, but with the recent restless nights, Tony had programmed her not to bother him.)
               Another glance at the clock and Tony wanted to scream. It was 01:30. He wanted to get out of the penthouse. He needed to. He couldn’t take the emptiness anymore. It left more room for the monsters and nightmares to creep in.
               So, after deciding he couldn’t stay there anymore, Tony grabbed the first jacket he saw out of his closet and took the elevator down to the lobby. The only other people there were the night security team, and they were paid enough not to care what their boss was doing.
               Tony slipped out into the street with little fanfare and started wandering into the night. He pulled his hood up as an extra precaution against being recognized, but with it being this late, he didn’t think anyone would notice who he was anyway.
 Peter clutched his backpack tight against his chest, his meager belongings crushed together while he ran. He glanced behind him every few seconds to see that his attacker was quickly gaining speed on him. It wasn’t a shock, really. Peter was small, fourteen, and asthmatic. It was a miracle he’d managed to put as much distance between the two of them as he had. Either way, his luck was starting to run out. His attacker, a twenty-something man that had at least one hundred pounds and six inches on him, sped up and closed the gap between them considerably.
               Peter panicked and glanced around for a different escape route. A dark alley caught his eye, but before he could veer into it, he felt himself collide with something solid and warm. A person. Both of them went sprawling to the ground. The gritty sidewalk cut into Peter’s palms and knees painfully, and his shoulder didn’t feel too hot either, but he was more concerned about his backpack, which had skidded forwards a few feet.
               He scrambled up, ignoring the stinging in his hands. The backpack. He had to get the backpack. That was all he had, everything he owned was in that ratty backpack. Before he could get his hands on it, though, he was stopped by the stranger he’d collided with. Guilt twisted in Peter’s gut; he hadn’t even thought to apologize. Three months on the street and he’d already forgotten everything his parents had taught him.
               “Hey, watch out—” The stranger said, voice oddly familiar. Peter whipped his head around to face the man. Peter had barely begun to get the apology out before the attacker, who he’d definitely not forgotten about—was three feet away and once again holding a knife. Peter instinctively backed up, but the stranger didn’t do the same. Peter wanted to scream, “What are you doing?” But remained silent.
               The stranger seemed rather composed in this situation, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. Everything in Peter screamed for him to take the backpack and run, but he stood still. When talking to the man with the knife didn’t seem to work, the stranger quickly pressed a button on his watch. Peter’s expression morphed from confused to shocked as his hand became encased in metal.          
               One repulsor shot later, and the attacker was laying incapacitated. The stranger that Peter now recognized as Iron Man—oh my god—turned around to face him. By now the backpack lay forgotten on the pavement as Tony Stark took a step closer to him. He had a black hood pulled over his face to obscure his identity, but Peter knew it was him. Who else could it be?
               “Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. Peter nodded slowly. He was so confused and tired and just wanted to sleep. Sleeping had been what he’d been trying to do when that jerk thought it would be nice to steal his stuff.
               Tony Stark bent over to pick up the backpack, and Peter reached out for it instantly. His heartrate began to calm down once he had it safely on his back again. He gripped the straps tightly, wary that someone else would try and take it.
               “Thank you,” Peter said, turning to escape down the dark alley. There had to be somewhere around that he could spend the night without getting caught. Hopefully somewhere next to a vent, that would be warmer than just sleeping on the ground.
               “Wait,” Tony said, reaching out to stop him. Peter jerked back on instinct and didn’t quite miss the look on the other man’s face. Sad. Pitiful. “Do you have somewhere to go tonight?”
               “Why?” Peter asked, eyeing him skeptically. He was worried that if he hung around much longer, Tony might notice that he was the missing kid in all the papers. He couldn’t risk getting sent back to Skip, or worse. He’d been through four houses during his time in the system, and none of them had been kind.
               “Because it’s nearly two a.m. and you can’t be more than thirteen.”
               “I’m fourteen,” Peter mumbled petulantly, and then cursed himself for revealing that. Mr. Stark sighed.
               “I can take you home if you give me an address. I’d prefer not to leave you out here on your own. And before you try to argue, because I can already tell that you will, you did just get almost mugged.”
               “I’m fine,” Peter said. He wanted Mr. Stark to leave so that he could go on his merry way. If it weren’t for the remaining adrenaline in his system, he would be struggling to keep his eyes open. Peter could tell that Mr. Stark wasn’t convinced, though.
               “Look, kid, if you don’t have somewhere to stay tonight you can stay at the Tower. No questions asked, and then tomorrow when it’s not the middle of the night and we aren’t standing next to someone who was about to stab you, you can leave.”
               Peter shifted from one foot to the other uncertainly. He didn’t want to spend the night in some dirty alley, not really, but could he trust Mr. Stark? Sure, he was a superhero, but what if he recognized him from the news? Peter’s disappearance from his foster family hadn’t exactly been quiet.
               The logical part of his brain told him to refuse the offer, to just walk away, but Peter couldn’t. He was hungry and tired, and the opportunity was too good to pass on. Besides, he could leave first thing in the morning. Eventually, Peter nodded his assent.
               “Okay. The tower isn’t that far, but I’m going to call Happy to come pick us up. That way there’s no chance for the media to find out. Is that okay with you?” Mr. Stark asked, and Peter almost forgot to answer. It had been a while since he’d a real conversation,  or since anyone had cared what his opinion was. Nobody had asked if he wanted to stay with any of his foster families. Nobody had asked if he was okay with being pulled out of Midtown.
               “Um, yeah, that’s fine,” He stammered. Mr. Stark glanced at him once more before pulling out his phone and calling Happy. Peter kicked at a loose pebble on the ground while they talked. He felt weird for listening while they talked, but the street was otherwise empty and quiet.
               “Hey Happy, sorry to wake you up, but I need a ride.”
               “What are you doing out in the middle of the night?” Happy asked, and even through the phone, Peter could tell he was grumpy. Guess he doesn’t live up to his nickname.
               “Irrelevant. I’ll explain later. I’ll send you the location and try to take one of the less flashy cars. I want to keep this lowkey.”
               Before Happy could answer, Mr. Stark had hung up and asked Friday to send Happy their location. The next few minutes were some of the most awkward of Peter’s life, and considering his background, that was an achievement.
               “So,” Mr. Stark said, turning to face Peter again. He had his hands shoved deep in his sweatshirt pocket. “What’s your name, kid?”
               “Peter,” He answered. If Mr. Stark was curious why he didn’t provide a last name, he didn’t show it. A moment after he answered, Peter cursed himself. He should have used a different name. To be fair, it wasn’t like Mr. Stark couldn’t figure out exactly who he was if he wanted to. He had access to any database in the world so long as he could hack it.
               After that the pair stood quietly on the sidewalk, Peter kicking the pebble and Mr. Stark watching the street for Happy. Peter almost breathed a sigh of relief when Happy pulled up before realizing this was most likely just the beginning of an uncomfortable situation.
               I should have just said no.
               Happy’s eyes widened when Peter slipped into the backseat, but he didn’t ask any questions and Mr. Stark didn’t offer any answers. Maybe finding a homeless teenager in the middle of the night and bringing him home wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever done. Peter might have to disagree, though, because this was definitely the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him.
                 Tony glanced at the backseat to find Peter already asleep. He was worried about what he was going to do about him. He told Peter that he could leave tomorrow morning, but he didn’t know if he could stick to that. It was irresponsible to let a homeless kid loose on the streets again, whether you promised them something or not.
               “What are you going to do about him?” Happy asked, and then as if he could read Tony’s mind, he said, “You can’t just let him go tomorrow morning.”
               “Why not? That’s what I said I would do, and I can’t keep him hostage. That’s called kidnapping and that’s illegal.”
               “You don’t have to kidnap him, obviously. But we should call CPS. It’s dangerous for him to be running around by himself.”
               “I know that . . . but there has to be a reason that he isn’t in a foster home. Maybe they abused him or something,” Tony said, defending Peter even though he barely knew him. For all Tony knew, he could be some teenage delinquent who decided he didn’t like the rules that came along with being a foster kid. He made a mental note to do some research when they got home.
               “I think you should call it in,” Happy said. Tony cast a sideways look at him. “But then again, when do you ever listen to what I tell you to do?”
               “Don’t take it personally, Hap. I don’t listen to Pepper either,” Tony joked, and then went quiet. Pepper was still a sore subject for him right now, even if he had to see her every day for business reasons.
               “Trust me, I don’t,” Happy said as they pulled into the garage. He watched curiously while Tony had to shake Peter awake in the backseat. Peter jumped awake and looked around wide-eyed. He didn’t seem to have remembered falling asleep and had no idea where he was now.
               Tony assured him that he was fine, there was nothing to hurt him here, and led Peter to the elevator. Peter followed like a lost puppy, eying everything suspiciously and gripping his backpack tightly in his arms. Tony suspected that it held everything he owned and losing it would be tantamount to losing a limb.
               The ride to the penthouse was short, but Peter was so tense that he looked like he might snap. Part of Tony regretted bringing the poor kid into that situation, but he felt better knowing that he wasn’t anywhere near the asshole who held a knife on him.
               It was different, to say the least, that Tony was taking such an interest in Peter. He’d never offered any other homeless person a night in the penthouse. Truth be told, he’d never even thought about it, but this was different. Standing on the dimly lit street in front of Peter, who was so underweight and bruised and scared . . . It made him feel something. One might say the feelings were paternal, but Tony was sure that couldn’t be it, because he was nothing like that. At all. Zero, zilch, nada.
               After that speech and that woman claiming Tony had killed her son, he felt the need to do something. Anything. He was tired of causing problems, whether he’d meant to or not, and helping Peter felt like a step in the right direction. Right here, right now, was something he could do to help someone who really needed it.
               Tony was relieved when the elevator door opened. Peter looked around like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. He stayed quiet, though, and Tony suspected it was because he was nervous about being around a stranger (even though he was a superhero, he was definitely still a stranger, and Peter didn’t seem to have very good luck with those).
               “You can stay in the guest bedroom tonight,” Tony said, leading Peter down the hall. He explained that there was an ensuite bathroom so that he could take a shower while he was there too. Upon realizing he might not have anything else to change into, Tony quickly grabbed sweatshirt and sweatpants from his own closet. He set them on the edge of the bed and told Peter that if he needed anything to go ahead and get it.
               “I don’t know if there’s much in the kitchen, but you’re welcome to it anyway. I’ll be around if you need anything,” Tony explained, leaving Peter to his own devices. Before he could close the door all the way, he heard a whispered, “Thank you.”
               Peter wasted no time in grabbing the clothes from the bed and taking a shower. The warm water felt like heaven, and he washed away the weeks of dirt and sweat. After getting dressed, he discovered that the bathroom was fully stocked and brushed out the knots from his too-long hair. If there was a pair of scissors available, he might have attempted to cut it himself.
               He stared at himself in the mirror. He barely recognized himself. He was so different now. Hair longer, cheekbones sharper, eyes hollower. Peter wondered what Ned would say if he could see him now. Even though he wondered, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want Ned to see him like this.
               With aching limbs and heavy eyes, Peter pulled back the comforter on the guest bed and crawled underneath them. He tried to fall asleep, but now found himself wide awake. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Exhausted day and night no matter how much or little he slept, and when faced with the possibility of getting real sleep, he isn’t tired anymore.
               Typical Parker luck.
               Peter stared at the ceiling of the guest room, exhausted but unable to fall asleep. It was weird. For all the nights he’d spent dreaming of sleeping in an actual bed again, he couldn’t seem to do it. He tossed and turned and adjusted the pillow and fixed the blankets, but he couldn’t get comfortable. It was like the mattress was too soft after spending so many nights sleeping on cement and old warehouse floors.
               He untangled himself from the comforter and tugged it off the bed. He laid it, and one of the pillows, on the floor. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable, but it was familiar, and that was fine. Before he could fall asleep, though, he wished he had a phone to call Ned. His (former?) best friend would never believe what was happening right now. To be fair, neither did Peter, but he wasn’t going to question his luck anymore.
               Right when he was about to fall asleep, Peter was jolted awake by a disembodied voice. He sat up and looked around the room wildly trying to guess where it came from.
               “Are you sure that you’d like to sleep on the floor? The bed is much more comfortable,” It said with a soft Irish lilt.
               “Who—who are you? Where are you?” Peter asked. The voice responded instantly.
               “My name is Friday, and I run the house. I’m Mr. Stark’s AI.”
               “Oh,” Peter breathed a sigh of release and settled back down into his makeshift bed. “I’m fine down here. I’m used to sleeping on the ground.”
               “Okay. If there is anything you require, I’ll be here.”
               “Thanks,” Peter said quietly. He rolled over to face the windows, admiring the view of New York City from so high up. Despite the late hour, many of the lights were still on, their soft yellow glow illuminating the streets below. The city was pretty from a distance. Peter knew just how harsh those streets could be, though, and that killed some of the glamour for him.
               Determined to get at least some sleep before he would inevitably be kicked out or turned into CPS tomorrow morning, Peter buried his face in the pillow and closed his eyes. He was lucky enough to avoid any nightmares that night, his brain too tired to torture him anymore.
                 Tony spent the rest of the night awake. Instead of thinking about the fact that the penthouse was completely empty, he worried about the fact that it wasn’t. As far as he knew, Peter was currently asleep (not that he’d asked Friday, that would be a complete violation of privacy). That meant it was time to figure out an action plan.
               First things first, he’d have to figure out breakfast for tomorrow. Tony opened every cabinet in his kitchen and found three things: instant rice, one packet of oatmeal , and a stale box of cheerios. It wasn’t exactly great. He was Tony Stark though. Surely there was someone he could pay to grocery shop for him in the middle of the night.
               Second off, this whole  “You can leave in the morning.” business. Tony wasn’t sure he could let a homeless teenager back out on the streets. In fact, he was fairly sure that he couldn’t, but he couldn’t keep him here either. That would be tantamount to kidnapping. Which was illegal. No matter the motives. Tony’s only option was to broach the subject with Peter in the morning.
It wasn’t ideal, but Tony could work with that. And thirdly: there was the matter of Tony’s own sleep. He didn’t think he would get much tonight. There were more important matters to attend to. Tony made a pot of coffee and took it down to the lab where he’d be spending the rest of his night.
Oops. Tony figured he’d just try to sleep the next night.
                  Peter woke up the next day with the sun high in the sky. He squinted sleepily out the window and wondered aloud what time it was.
               “It is nearly eleven thirty, Peter,” Friday answered. Peter jumped, nearly banging his head on the nightstand behind him. Moments later, Friday apologized for scaring him once again.
               “Oh shit. I should—I need to leave,” Peter said. He scrambled to untangle himself from the comforter and stand up.
               “Boss has requested that I inform you that you may stay as long as you like. And that breakfast is ready when you are.”
               “Breakfast?” Peter questioned. He crossed the room to the dresser and grabbed his backpack, checking to make sure everything was still in it. Of course nobody would have stolen anything from him in Stark Tower, of all places, but habits born of the streets were hard to break.
               “Yes. It’s in the kitchen; I can provide you with additional help if you need it once you’re there.”
               Peter slung his backpack over his shoulder and opened the bedroom door. He took a deep breath before walking down the hallway and out into the kitchen. Peter’s eyes widened at the crazy amount of food waiting for him on the counter. There were multiple kinds of cereal, various fresh fruits, and a wide selection of pop tarts. Friday helpfully informed him that there was anything he could possibly want to drink in the fridge.
               He stared at the counter for a minute, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Peter hadn’t seen that much food since . . . ever. Even when he lived with Ben and May, money had been tight. That wasn’t to say that he went hungry, just that it was different.
               Tears threatened to spill at the thought of Ben and May. Peter didn’t often let himself think of them because it only made him feel worse. Selfishly, he didn’t want anything to think about to make his life harder.
               Peter quickly wiped the tears away when he heard the elevator open and Mr. Stark walked out. He was wearing the same sweatshirt as last night, except it was a bit rumpled now. Peter could see the dark circles under his eyes and wondered why it looked like hadn’t even bothered trying to go to bed.
               “I’m sorry if I startled you. I didn’t mean to,” Mr. Stark said. Peter shook his head.
               “You didn’t,” He lied. Any loud noise or sudden movement startled him these days. Peter didn’t want to make Mr. Stark feel bad about it.
               “Okay. I hope you like at least some of the stuff I had an intern pick up this morning, but if you don’t, we can order something else.”
               Peter wasn’t sure how to respond. He was so out of his comfort zone. And now that he’d finally slept properly, he was hyperaware of it. Instead of responding, he grabbed an apple and took a bite. He ate it faster than humanly possible, afraid that if he looked away it would disappear. Once he’d started eating, it felt like he couldn’t stop. It had been so long since he’d eaten anything real or fresh.
               Mr. Stark didn’t try to talk to him again until Peter was finished eating nearly twenty-five minutes later.
               “We need to talk about last night,” He said. Peter’s heart raced as he faced the fact that he would probably get put back into the system.
               “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Just—please don’t send me back. I can’t go back to Skip or anyone else—”
               “Who is Skip?” Mr. Stark interrupted.    
               “He was one of my foster parents. Everyone thinks he’s really great but . . . he isn’t,” Peter’s voice trailed off near the end. He didn’t want to think about Skip or the things he’d done. It made his blood boil to think people still thought he was a saint.
               Mr. Stark’s expression shifted from confusion to understanding to pity. Peter didn’t want his pity, but if it meant not going back, he would take it.
               “I won’t make you go back, but I don’t feel comfortable letting you back out onto the streets. What if you get hurt?”
               “I’ll be fine. I’ve made it this far—”
               “—and you almost got stabbed last night—”
               “I’ll be fine! I’ll be fine, I promise. And nobody knows that you know me, anyway, so if something did happen it’s not like you would be responsible,” Peter argued. He wondered if he could just leave or if the AI would try to stop him.
               Mr. Stark sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t force you to stay here, that would be kidnapping.”
               “I promise I won’t cause any trouble if you let me leave. I just . . . I can’t go back. I’m not doing any of that again.”
               “Okay,’ Mr. Stark said, making a decision he would most definitely regret later. “But I want you to take this.”
               Mr. Stark handed Peter something that looked suspiciously like a burner phone. Peter looked between it and him, waiting for an explanation.
               “I’ll let you go and not turn you into CPS on the condition that if you need something, you’ll call,” Mr. Stark explained. Peter nodded. He already knew that he wouldn’t use it, but he just needed to leave. Once he’d disappeared for a few weeks, Mr. Stark would forget all about him. That was okay. That was what Peter wanted.
               It was better for both of them that way.
                 Peter had managed to find a job only a couple weeks later. He took the morning shift at a corner store in Queens cleaning and stocking shelves. It was only a few hours and didn’t pay much, but it was enough for Peter to get by on. He’d had to lie about his age, and Peter was fairly sure the owner (Mr. Delmar) didn’t believe him, but he didn’t ask questions and that worked fine for the both of them.
               “Stay safe out there,” Mr. Delmar said as Peter was leaving for the day. Peter nodded with a smile. It was rare that he smiled genuinely these days, but he didn’t have to fake it with Mr. Delmar. He was a kind person—one of the only ones Peter had encountered—and it was hard to not be sincere with him.
               “I will. See you tomorrow,” Peter responded, stepping out into the warm summer day. He was thinking about heading to the park later to kill some time before figuring out where to spend the night, but first, it was laundry day.
               Since getting a job, Peter actually had enough money to take his clothes to a local laundromat once a week. He was thankful; it was one of the things that made him feel more like a real person again. Not only that, but he’d also been able to afford a few extra t-shirts that hadn’t become stained or had holes.
               See, Mr. Stark? I told you I’d be just fine.
                 There were a lot of things Tony could honestly say he’d never expected to do. Signing up for foster parent training because of a homeless kid he met two weeks ago was one of them. Ever since he’d let Peter just . . . leave, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. The poor kid had obviously been through so much. Tony understood what it felt like to have no one left in your corner.
               (He wished he’d been rested enough to argue more, to make a better decision, but you can’t change the past.)
               So now, Tony was sitting on the couch with his tablet and scrolling through the requirements of being a foster parent. There were some he’d probably be able to get around, but one that he couldn’t was the training.
               In order to become a foster parent, the applicant must complete thirty hours of training or a home study with a licensed professional.
               Below that was a link to sign up for a class, and before he knew it, Tony had put all of his information in and been given a place and a time to be there.
               Happy would say this was crazy. But when aliens and gods were your normal, who really knew what crazy was anymore?
                 It wasn’t often that people came up to Peter on the street, and even less often that someone gave him something. But that Monday afternoon, while Peter was waiting at the crosswalk, an old lady came up to him asking for directions.
               Peter pointed her in the right direction easily (He knew Queens like the back of his hand), and instead of thanking him and leaving, she asked him where he was headed. Peter shrugged.
               “Nowhere, really.” He told her.
               “Well, if you don’t have anywhere to be, I know a place a few blocks over that has good churros. As a thank you,” She said. Peter looked at her curiously. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled.
               “I’ll take that as a yes,” She laughed. Without really knowing why, Peter decided to go with her. It wasn’t like he had somewhere to be or anything to do. And a churro did sound really good. I don’t think I’ve had one of those since Ned and I went to that street fair last year.
               Peter would have been content to walk in silence, but the old lady (who’s name he learned was Ingrid Johansson) was a very talkative person. She asked all manor of questions, to what his favorite color was to why he was out and about in the city today.
               He didn’t mind answering her questions, and in turn asking some himself. Peter learned that Ingrid’s family was originally from Europe, but they’d immigrated when she was a teenager. He also learned that her favorite color was blue (which they had in common).
               Peter found himself disappointed when they’d finally parted ways. Company was nice, and he’d forgotten how much he’d missed it.
 Tony stepped into the penthouse around eight o’clock and wanted to do nothing more than take off his tie and fall on the couch. The class itself wasn’t that hard, especially not for a genius like him, but he hadn’t been able to sleep in ages. Tony felt like he was falling down the rabbit hole of crazy with no one to catch him.
               “Where were you?” Pepper asked from the couch, making Tony jump. His entire body went tense before he realized it was Pepper and that he wasn’t in any danger.
               “Hello to you too,” Tony replied. “Would you care to tell me why you’re sitting in my house in the dark?”
               Pepper frowned at the reminder that she no longer lived here. Tony wish he had it in him to feel bad about his comment, but he didn’t. rabbit hole to crazy, and all that.
               “I’m here because you need to sign these documents. I didn’t imagine having to wait for two hours for you to show up, though. Where did you go?”
               Tony sighed and looked Pepper in the eyes. He didn’t even have it in him to lie about where he was
“I was at a foster parent class,” He said, smiling without any warmth. Even across the room in the dark he could see the look Pepper was giving him. Tony was convinced that she might yell at him.
“Why? This isn’t like you at all,” Pepper is, and somehow isn’t, wrong. Tony doesn’t want to admit it, and he definitely doesn’t want to explain. She wouldn’t get it. She wasn’t there. And then, as if she thinks she knows, her face falls.
“Oh, Tony. You can’t adopt a kid. They aren’t playthings.”
“Obviously, I know that!” Tony couldn’t keep the bite out of his voice.
“You can’t use them—”
“To what? Fill the holes that you and the Avengers left in my life? To occupy my time? I fucking know that Pepper. Don’t act like I don’t understand that.”
Pepper simply stares at Tony, the stack of unsigned documents forgotten in her lap. Tony could tell that she wanted to argue back with him, but if they’re failed relationship taught her anything, it was that an argument with Tony Stark was useless.
               Too bad for her, Tony wasn’t done yet.
               “You left me, remember? That means you don’t get to pass judgement on my choices anymore. I’m a fucking adult, Pepper, I can take care of myself and make my own decisions.”
               Tony sighed and walked down the hall to his bedroom. Maybe tonight would be a great time to try and sleep again. God knew he needed it.
Peter sat on a bench in Battery Park overlooking the river. It was a sunny Saturday in August, the kind of day you would dream about in the middle of winter. Some of the local college students had spread out blankets and were already beginning their reading for the semester. Peter watched them sadly. He’d wanted to go to college. He’d had lofty dreams of going to MIT or maybe even Yale.
Of course that had never been realistic, the tuition was too high, but Peter had hopes that he could maybe get a scholarship or two. But now . . . Peter didn’t think he’d even finish high school. Maybe in a few years, when he was able to get a stable job and have time to study, he’d take the test and earn his GED.
               A few years. Am I really going to do this for a few years? Peter thought that sounded so exhausting. What was the point of all of this, then? He’d run away because the things that happened with Skip were just . . . too much. To handle, to go through, to think about. But now, realizing his dreams had been dashed, Peter started considering going back into the system. It would be harder now with his record of being moved around and running away.
               He might go through all that trouble just to end up somewhere worse. If Peter was being honest, he hadn’t thought about all this stuff before he’d run away in the middle of the night. He hadn’t considered where he’d sleep, or how he’d earn money, or whether he’d ever be able to finish high school. If he had, he might not have done it. It was horrible to think about staying with Skip for three more years . . . but then he could have left it all behind. Could have graduated, gone to college, gotten a job and moved wherever he’d have liked to go.
               Now he felt stuck. It seemed that every option he had was bad, and he didn’t want to chance picking any of them.
                  Tony decided to paint the guest bedroom. Well, he decided to redo the entire thing really, but painting it was the first step. So, on that Saturday afternoon, Tony found himself roaming the aisles of a small hardware store. There were so many paint chips and colors to choose from. Right now the walls in the guest room were painted a light grey, but that seemed so impersonal.
               One of the blue swatches caught Tony’s eye. It was a deep blue labelled as English Navy. Did Peter like blue? Probably. Everyone liked blue. Tony grabbed the swatch and added it to his basket. He’d already picked up painters’ tape, plastic sheeting, and enough paint rollers to redo the entire penthouse (which now that he was technically retired, he might do).
               Soon enough, he’d been checked out and started setting up to paint. He’d already dismantled and moved all the furniture and decorations out of the guest room and into the living room. The entire place was a mess, but Tony was the only one around to see it and he didn’t care.
               Since everything had already been moved out, Tony set to work lining the baseboards and trim with painter’s tape. It was tedious and time consuming, but with a good playlist playing in the background, Tony didn’t mind doing it. After nearly thirty minutes of taping and laying out the plastic sheeting on the hardwood floor, he was ready to paint.
               The navy went over the grey well enough, but he did two coats just to be sure. He had little else to do since Pepper hadn’t sent any more documents over and Ross hadn’t sent the newest round of Accords amendments over.
               Pepper’s words replayed in Tony’s mind while he worked. You can’t adopt a kid. They aren’t playthings.
               I know they aren’t playthings. Tony thought back angrily. I’m just trying to do something good. So what if I can’t help the whole world, why does that mean I shouldn’t try?
                 Peter woke up that night not ten minutes after he’d managed to fall asleep. There was a sharp pain in his neck, and he briefly wondered if someone was holding him at knifepoint. It wouldn’t be the first time. Once he’d determined there was no immediate danger, he dug around in his backpack for a small mirror he’d bought a few weeks ago at a corner store. (He’d needed it for his attempt to cut his hair—let’s just say it didn’t go as well as he’d have liked.)
               He held up the mirror, catching the streetlight on its surface to illuminate himself. He checked the source of the sharp pain and found two small bite marks. The skin around them already looked inflamed, and Peter cursed. He leaned back against the brick wall and sighed. Peter could only hope that the spider—or whatever it was—wasn’t poisonous.
               After shoving the mirror back into the depths of his bag, Peter closed his eyes once more. It was difficult to fall asleep with the lingering pain, but somehow, he did. This didn’t last long, however, before Peter woke up once more and in considerably more pain. He was sweating despite the cool September night, and every cell in his body felt like it was on fire.
               This is it, Peter thought. And then, as if the realization hitting him, I’m going to die here. I’m going to die in a back alley all alone and no one will ever find me.
               Tears pooled in his eyes, and it was only seconds before they spilled over. A sharp wave of pain rolled through his body, as if it flowed through his veins like blood, and Peter cried out. He couldn’t believe that one person could feel so much pain without dying. It didn’t make any sense.
               If you’d asked him, Peter would have told you that it felt like his body was being ripped apart and stitched back together. He couldn’t find any better explanations for the liquid fire flowing through his veins.
               “Ple—please,” He tried to call out, but his voice came out as nothing more than a hoarse whisper. His throat felt like sandpaper. “I—I’m back here.”
               One thought popped  into his muddled brain: the phone. Mr. Stark’s words echoed through his mind, “One call, I’ll be there.”
               Peter reached out for his backpack. The phone was in the front pocket; all he had to do was reach it. Come on, Peter, you can do it.
               By some small miracle, he’d been able to grab the phone. There was only contact programmed in it, and Peter dialed it. The call went through to voice mail.
               “Sorry I didn’t answer the phone. Everyone knows I like to sit and watch the line blink. Unless this is Secretary Ross, in which case I’m not sorry I didn’t answer.”
               Peter screamed in frustration. It came out as more of a growl, but the sentiment was still the same. Tears rolled down his face and fell on the pavement below. There was no one else to call. There was nowhere else to go.
               I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to die—
                                A funny ringing noise caught Peter’s attention. It sounded like a phone, but it couldn’t be. He didn’t have one of those.
               “Why is everything so dark?” Peter wondered aloud. Nothing, nothing, nothing. That’s all he could see. And that funny ringing noise wouldn’t go away. Peter wished someone would turn it off. It was starting to hurt his head. The rest of his body hurt, too, but in a distant way. Like all of the pain was happening to someone else.
               Peter’s eyes opened a moment later, and he laughed to himself. It had been dark because his eyes were closed! Peter Parker had solved the great mystery of the great nothingness. Up next: could he solve the case of the mysterious ringing noise.
               He looked around for the source of the noise and discovered that it was coming from a phone. Just then he remembered that he did have a phone. It was the one Iron Man had given to him! Peter reached out for it and grabbed it easily. He somehow pressed the answer button and held the phone close to his ear.
               “Peter, are you okay?” Asked a concerned voice. Peter shook his head. He didn’t feel okay at all. Everything felt all fuzzy around the edges.
               “Peter? Hello?”
               “Sorry,” Peter said. He’d forgotten that the person on the other end of the line couldn’t see him.
               “What are you sorry for? Are you hurt?”
               “I think so . . . Somethin’ bit me earlier. It hurt real bad. But it doesn’t feel that bad now. Maybe it’s over.”  
               “What’s over? Where are you?”
               “My body felt like it was on fire earlier,” Peter explained. The person on the other end of the line asked where he was again.
               “I think I’m dead. Is this what dying feels like? Everything hurts real bad and then suddenly . . . it doesn’t anymore?”
               “Stay where you are, Peter. I’m coming to get you.”
               “Might be too late,” Peter slurred. The other person assured him it wasn’t, and he heard an engine start in the background.
               “I need you to stay on the line with me. Can you do that, Peter?”
               Peter nodded, then said yes. He could do that. It didn’t require that much effort, really. Slowly, his field of vision faded, and with it, his consciousness.
                 When Tony woke up in the middle of the night to a missed call from Peter (only ten minutes prior, but still), he cursed himself for not waking up when the phone rang. He also cursed Friday for not waking him up when the phone was ringing.
               “Did he leave a message?” Tony asked, sitting up and trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
               “No, sir. Would you like to call him back?”
               “Yes,” He replied immediately. Tony grabbed his phone from the night stand and immediately pulled up Peter’s contact. He finally calls after months of not answering me, and I was asleep. What are the chances? Lord knows I’m never asleep anymore.
               Tony waited anxiously while the line rang. When it went through to voicemail, he called again. This time Peter answered on the fifth ring. Tony instantly asked if Peter was okay and received no answer. After asking again Peter apologized. He sounded dazed, at the very least. Had somebody drugged him? Oh my god—
               “Where are you? Are you hurt?” Before Peter could even answer, Tony was out of bed and getting dressed. Peter clearly needed help.
               “I think so . . . Somethin’ bit me earlier. It hurt real bad. But it doesn’t feel that bad now. Maybe it’s over.”  
               Over? Tony asked once again where the kid was, but he wouldn’t answer that question. Instead he started rambling about being on fire and dying and . . . The words made Tony’s blood run cold. Was Peter dying? That thought sent him into overdrive, and before he knew it, he was running through the garage to the closest car.
               Tony ordered Peter to stay on the line with him while he tracked the phone. He didn’t feel great putting a tracker in the phone all those months ago, but he didn’t feel great about a lot of the things he did. Besides, now it was coming in handy, and he didn’t have time to regret doing it at the moment.
               Peter soon went quiet. Tony said his name several times to try and grab his attention, but there was no reply.
               “Fuck,” He said, pushing down on the gas pedal. He was twenty minutes away from Peter’s location. The drive felt more like an hour because of his panic. Somehow, though, he made it. He slammed the door shut behind him and started looking around.
               He was in the business sector of Manhattan, and this late at night, there weren’t many people out other than him. That was good because between the worry and the “I think I’m dying,” Tony hadn’t grabbed anything to disguise his identity.
               “Peter!” Tony called out, looking around. When he was sure that he wasn’t on the main street, he started turning down alleyways. Most of them were quiet and filled with boxes and garbage. He found Peter down the fourth alley. Tony would have tripped over him in the dark—or missed him entirely—if he hadn’t heard the crying.
               Peter was curled up on the ground, looking so impossibly small. Tears streamed down his face, presumably from pain, and he was covered in a sheen of sweat. His belongings in his backpack were strewn around him.
               “Did someone try to rob you?” Tony asked, kneeling down beside him. Peter opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a strangled cry. As far as Tony could tell, there weren’t any open wounds or indicators of assault.
               Deciding that he could worry about the why or how later, Tony carefully scooped Peter off the ground and carried him towards the car. His skin was icy to the touch.
               “Everything is going to be okay,” Tony whispered soothingly as he gently buckled Peter into the backseat. Peter didn’t say anything until Tony tried to close the car door. He looked back towards the alley and tried to force out the words, “Please don’t leave it.”
               Immediately understanding what he meant, Tony ran back and gathered up Peter’s stuff. He also managed to call Cho and ask her to be at the Tower as soon as possible. She sounded as if she’d been asleep but didn’t seem bothered by the call. It wasn’t often that Tony Stark called her in the middle of the night sounding so concerned, and she assumed it must be very serious if it warranted her attention.
               Peter looked to be in bad condition, and it broke Tony’s heart every time he tried to say something from the backseat and couldn’t. At one point he started tugging at his seatbelt and saying, “It’s too much, everything is too much.”
               “I’m sorry, kid. We’ll be back soon, okay? Then we can give you the good stuff,” Tony said. He spent more time glancing in the rearview mirror than watching the road, but soon enough (not fast enough for Peter or Tony) they made it back to the Tower. Cho was already waiting for them by the elevator.
               If Cho was curious as to why Tony suddenly had a teenager, she didn’t let it show. She simply led them to the medbay. Once Peter had been given the appropriate amount of morphine and drifted off, Cho asked Tony what had happened to him.
               “I have no idea,” Tony told her honestly. “On the phone he said something about being bit, but I don’t know by what.”
               “Does he have any allergies? That could explain the fever,” She asked in return. Tony shook his head.
               “I have no idea. Truthfully, I don’t know much about him at all. I met him a few months ago on the streets. I just . . . Please help him.”
               “I’ll do my best,” Cho assured him. “You know I will.”
               “Thank you.”
               “It’s no problem, Tony. But you should get some rest while I run a few tests. You’ll need it later.”
               “I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to right now. Besides, I think it’s better that I stay here. He doesn’t know you and I don’t want him to freak out when he wakes up.”
               Cho nodded. “Of course.”
                 Peter wakes up only thirty minutes later. The world is fuzzy around the edges to him, a clue that maybe what he’s seeing isn’t real. Of course it isn’t real, his brain told him, Last time we were awake, we were in an alley. Now we’re in a hospital.
               Peter watched the world around him, vaguely aware of the pain. It was drifting ever closer to him, becoming sharper and sharper. Closer, closer, closer, until the pain was upon him in greater magnitude than it had been before.
               He clenched his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, wishing for the pain to pass. It didn’t, and Peter distantly realized that he’d begun to cry.
               Please make it stop, please make it stop, please make it stop—
               “I’m trying, but we can’t figure out what’s wrong with you just yet,” Said a calming voice. Peter couldn’t force his eyes open long enough to figure out who’d said it. The voice was familiar to him in some way, yet softer than he’d remembered hearing it before.
               “Is there anything you can give him?” The voice asked, the softness gone and replaced by worry. A second voice, a woman, answered.
               “Not until I figure out why he burned through the last dose. I don’t want to risk him overdosing. I’m going to need to do some bloodwork,” She answered. Were they talking about him? Peter thought they were,  but then again, he wasn’t sure of anything right now. Everything hurt and he just wanted it to stop.
               “No,” Peter rasped. It was nearly impossible to force the words out. Tears started falling faster, and he wished everything would stop. He didn’t want pain and he definitely didn’t want needles. He could barely sit through getting his shots for school.
               There was silence for a moment, and then someone ran a hand through Peter’s matted curls. Something in the back of his mind told him it was the same person that the first voice belonged to. Peter also distantly knew that the gesture was supposed to be soothing, placating, but it made everything worse.
               “Ben, please don’t make me,” Peter cried. That’s who the voice must belong to. Who else would do this for me?
               Another pause, and then, “I’m sorry, kiddo, but we have to do this. I promise after that it won’t hurt so terribly.”
               Peter shook his head. Ben, please don’t make me.
               “It’ll only take a minute,” The woman assured him. Peter still couldn’t—or didn’t want to—open his eyes. But if Ben said it would make him feel better . . . he could do it. Ben wouldn’t lie to him.
               Peter did his best to stay still, but in the end, someone had to hold him down long enough for the blood to be drawn. In truth, it wasn’t that terrible, but everything was relative. Needles didn’t hurt as bad as feeling like your body was on fire.
               “See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Ben asked. Peter didn’t answer because he’d already slipped back into unconsciousness.
                 When Peter woke next, nothing hurt, but everything was different. He felt different. Even though the room was dark, he could see almost perfectly. He didn’t recognize it—it was different from the hospital he’d thought he’d been in—but it felt familiar. The walls were a deep shade of blue and smelled freshly painted. That was another thing; Peter felt like he could smell everything. The detergent on the sheets (lavender), the hand soap in the bathroom (vanilla), and something being cooked in the kitchen (burnt).
               “Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark that you have woken up?” Friday asked. Peter realized that he must be in the tower if Friday was talking to him . . . but when had he gotten there? How would he have made it from the hospital to there?
               “Sure,” Peter answered hesitantly. He didn’t know what to expect from this situation. He didn’t know what had been wrong before, but he was all better now, so he would probably tell him to leave. That was fine . . . Peter would find somewhere to go. Even though he woke up not five minutes ago, he knew he couldn’t stay forever. That would be unrealistic.
               A minute later Mr. Stark walked in, closing the door behind him quietly. He left the lights off, but Peter didn’t mind. He could see just fine, after all. Mr. Stark sat near the edge of the bed and cleared his throat before speaking.
               “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Or should I say night?” He said, checking his watch. “It is just after midnight. But that’s not important. How do you feel?”
               “I feel . . . weird,” Peter said honestly. He could hear the ticking of Mr. Stark’s watch. Since when could he do that?
               “How so? Should I go get painkillers?”
               “No. Nothing hurts. I just feel different.”
               Mr. Stark looked at Peter like he was expecting him to go on. Peter didn’t want to tell him what felt different, though, because then he’d come across as crazy and get sent to a mental hospital.
               “I’m going to sound crazy,” He said. Mr. Stark chuckled.
               “Kid, I’ve dealt with terrorists, aliens, killer robots . . . Crazy isn’t even in my dictionary anymore. And besides that, I need to know so that Cho can check it out. She’s the doctor,” Mr. Stark added when Peter looked confused.
               “Okay . . . I can see almost perfectly even though it’s dark in here. And I can smell everything and hear everything—it feels like my senses have been dialed up to eleven.”
               “Do you want me to soundproof the room?”
               “Why?”
               “. . . To make you more comfortable,” Tony said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Peter and him were clearly on different wave lengths.  
               “Am I staying?” Peter asked, worried about the answer. He knew he’d have to leave . . . but he didn’t want to. It was warm and dry and there wasn’t a chance he’d be murdered in his sleep.
               “Yeah, if you’re okay with that,” Mr. Stark searched Peter’s face for any indication of his answer. He wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t know what to do if Peter said no.
               “I don’t want to be a burden.”
               “You’re not, and you wouldn’t be. If you want to stay here I can have the paperwork signed by tomorrow morning, no questions asked,” Mr. Stark said. And then, “I took classes on being a foster parent. This room would be yours, actually. I didn’t know what color you’d like, but everyone likes blue, right? I mean, if you don’t, we can always paint it something different—”
               Peter couldn’t help the tears that came. He didn’t want to cry. He really didn’t. But Mr. Stark was the first person to care since Ben and May died. Nobody he’d stayed with had bothered to ask if he wanted to be there, or what color he wanted his room to be, or even how he felt.
               But here was Mr. Stark, who’d asked him all of those things, and had even taken classes so that he didn’t have to go back into the system.
               “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m pretty sure rule number one of being a foster parent is not making the kid cry—”
               “It’s not bad,” Peter assured him, using the back of his hand to wipe away his tears, “Nobody’s really bothered to ask me what I want since my aunt and uncle died. Nobody’s cared since then. I just kind of forgot what it felt like.”
               “Oh . . . Do you want to stay here then? You don’t have to feel pressured, I won’t be offended if you say no.”
               “I—I do want to stay here,” Peter said quietly. Despite Mr. Stark’s reassurances, he was afraid that he’d take the offer back.
               “I’ll call the social worker later and get everything worked out. If you’re hungry I can make something for you, or if you’d rather go back to sleep that’s fine too. Cho will be up here later to check on you. There’s some stuff we need to discuss.”
               “Dinner sounds nice,” Peter smiled. It would take some getting used to, of course, but maybe the new normal wouldn’t be so bad.
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catalinaroleplay · 4 years ago
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Gender & Pronouns: Cis man, he/him
Date of Birth: December 28th, 1986 (33)
Place of Birth: Catalina Island, California
Neighborhood: Lafayette Square
Length of Residency: Native
Occupation: Unemployed
Face Claim: Peter Gadiot
BIOGRAPHY
TRIGGERS: Parental Abandonment, Death.
When nineteen-year-old Verena Sterling confessed about her affair with an older, married man, it wasn’t because she had any regrets about it. It was because she was carrying his child, and Ramón Hernandez refused to be a part of a scandal that would, undoubtedly, wreck his home life. As the daughter of middle-class parents who owned a small diner in Avalon, there was nothing she could do. Her parents refused to let her go through the humiliation that would occur if she ever did come clean about her baby’s father, seeing as they hardly believed what they heard. Unable to afford college any longer, Verena started working at her parent’s diner. Anything to earn the money she would need to raise and care for a child.
Austin Sterling was born on a cold December morning, just past five. His mother vowed then and there that she would never let anyone hurt her little boy — even if that meant keeping his fathers’ identity a secret. There was never anything in Austin’s life that he missed. He was loved, he was cared for, and most importantly, he was happy. Although Verena’s parents could never hide the disappointment in their daughter for being irresponsible, they loved their grandson wholeheartedly. It wasn’t until Verena decided to move out of her childhood home and get a job with more hours that Austin felt what it was like to have a single mother. He went from being around family 24/7 to being in kindergarten from 7 am to 1 pm and then with his grandparents from 1 pm to 6 pm. Verena wanted to be independent and refused to rely on her parents too much. The house they moved to wasn’t nice, but it was all they were able to afford. Austin was much too young to understand what a difference this made, but he never quite liked the noisy house and hot Catalina summer nights. 
However, one of the hardest challenges for young Austin would be the relationship between his mom and her new husband. At first, it was strange to have a guy come by to visit. But, Austin adapted like all the times he did before. Then James introduced his son, and it dawned to him that this wouldn’t be something short term. Even though Austin was only four at the time, he’d always been a bright kid. His thoughts were proven to be right when a move was announced a couple of months later, along with the news of an engagement. Seeing his mom that happy.. Austin had no reason not to be over the moon. Living with other people was a drastic change for a kid who was used to being alone with his mom. Now, there was another kid at home, a father figure, and a mom who didn’t have to work as much.
On a nice summer day, Verena Sterling became Verena Cabot, and James became Austin’s stepfather. It had taken Austin a while to accept a father figure in his life since he was so used to not having one when they’d gotten married. Still, when James sat him down one night, papers on the dining room table, telling him that he would like to adopt Austin and consider him his own legally, the four-year-old accepted this with tears pouring down his face. It was no longer just him and his mom; he belonged to a family now — a family of soon to be five.
From then on, it was a life with rules, obligations, and a routine. Nothing compared to how he’d lived previously. And it showed, tremendously. He was no longer the sad kid nobody wanted to talk to; he was happier, smiling more often and even taking chances to make new friends. There was a consistency in his life Austin, and he loved it. For years it felt like he was living in a movie — he brought home good grades, never got into any sort of trouble, and tried his best to help his stepbrother and little sister out where he could. Until the last year of high school, when tragedy hit Austin hard; his grandfather died unexpectedly of a heart attack behind their diner’s counter. Suddenly his whole world seemed to be upside down, and Austin developed new habits. 
A week before graduation, he announced that he would be joining the army. There was no question if he could or was allowed to; he just said he would go and essentially guilt-tripped his mother into signing the forms for him. His grandfather had served, and so Austin wanted to make him proud. With the newfound sense of duty and honor, he knew he couldn’t leave home without marrying his high school girlfriend first — the love of his life — and after completing his training and being stationed overseas, Austin left the states at just 19 years old.
The first four years went by so much quicker than Austin would have thought – and without any significant incidents. So there was no reason to think about whether he wanted to return for another term. His marriage with Elena was going well, and although he knew how much she disliked his leaving to go back, she never ceased to be supportive. The second term was supposed to be his last, his promise to his wife for staying by his side. Things, however, didn’t work out as smoothly as they did the first time. One and a half years into his second term: They were ambushed, one of his friends was killed, another two majorly injured, and Austin was shot in the leg. While the doctors told him he’d been lucky that they missed by a couple of inches and didn’t shatter his bones, he didn’t feel that way. Austin didn’t feel like himself; the pain unbearable most of the time. German hospitals turned into his home for months until he was able to go back home. Honorably discharged and given into the medical care of professionals back home in Catalina, Austin hated not being with his unit and unable to help. The injury had taken so much from him already, and yet, he let it take even more: his wife, his friends, and life as he knew it before.
It took him a long time, a lot of therapy, and a good friend until he was pieced back together. Austin couldn’t let himself wallow in self-pity and do nothing any longer. Instead, he went to college and got everything he needed to be accepted into the police academy. Given his military background and the newly acquired college degree, he knew he wouldn’t have to worry. The way to becoming a detective was a long and hard one, but Austin would never even dare to think it wasn’t worth every second. His job became his life, something to focus on while still trying to heal completely. And it worked for a while; until Elena Perez returned to the Island. Not only did it throw him off completely, but her return also came with a whole lot of news: a miscarriage, lingering feelings, and the fact that their divorce never got through. A lot of issues they should’ve had a chance to work out.. But London Cabot had other ideas for her brother. A guy, a whole lot of trouble, and Mexico were her words to her brother before Austin left Catalina a couple of months ago. Enough to make him drop everything and make sure his sister was safe and not in too much trouble. Enough to have him come back without a job, but once again with a determination to fix his life; hopefully for the last time.
PERSONALITY
Positive: Determined | Intelligent | Genuine
Negative: Hot-headed | commanding | Protective
Austin Cabot is portrayed by Nessa.
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allisonbaelfire · 5 years ago
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Sulit (3)
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Pairings: Tony Stark!Father x Reader, Morgan Stark!sister x Reader, Peter Parker x Reader
Requested: 1.) @queenylime - Tony’s Daughter!reader who’s from a previous relationship and a member of the Avengers. Just snippets of her through the Film. Like her interacting with Morgan, her reacting to Nat’s death and of course her fathers 
Chapter Summary: Time passed and you have been living with your family for a while now. Still, nightmares plagued you, sometimes the lost fight against Thanos and more and more often about how much you missed Peter. Meanwhile, your dad has to decide, does he stay with his family, or does he help the Avengers to bring the people back...
Word Count: 2,420
Authors Note: This is Part Three of Sulit, please read Part One and Part Two first!
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“Y/N, I want you to meet Peter.” Your father introduced you. “He might look like he’s useless but he’s not that useless” He tapped on his shoulder.
Peter looked at your father confused, apparently he didn’t know that the great Tony Stark had a daughter. 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He gave you a small smile as he reached for your hand.
You nodded and shook his hand. You tried to hide your grin when you noticed that Peter could barely look at you, he seemed to be pretty shy.
                                               ~*~
“Y/N! Wake up!” Morgen called for you as she ran into your room and jumped on your bed.
You heart was racing, you didn’t know if it was because Morgan stormed into your room like crazy or that you once again dreamed of Peter. Your sister noticed how confused you were and hugged you.
“I’m sorry I scared you, but you promised -” She looked to the door to make sure your parents where not there. “-we’d train today.” Morgan whispered.
You smiled soft and kissed her head. “It wasn’t because of you, sweet pie.” 
Morgan was confused and sat down in front of you. “You can talk to me about everything.”
You could hardly believe how cute your little sister was. She was different from Tony and you, while you both tried everything to hide your feelings Morgan always showed them. Morgan always made an effort to take care of others when they felt sad, no matter when.
“I dream a lot of Peter lately, I miss him.” You admit. “Sometimes I think, I should move on but-”
“-do you love him?” Morgan asked confused.
You blushed a bit. “That’s a Story for another time Maguna, come on lets train.”
                                              ~*~
While you dressed and freshened, Morgan was already waiting eagerly for you in the garden.
“Hey, trouble.” You called for her. “Where are Mom and dad?”
Maguna ran to you and took your hand. “They’re in the garage and told me to tell you to play with me.”
You believed what Morgan said, however, it was strange when both of your parents were in the garage because Pepper hated it when Tony was working on his suits again. Anyway, Morgan took you to the back of the garden where her secret tent was, to have a serious conversation with you.
“I heared you crying the other night and I want to help you.” She said soft as you both sat down inside the tent. “I haven’t told mom and dad but I’m worried.”
You hugged your sister. “I’m sorry that I troubled your mind by worrying about me.” You were a bit ashamed, you didn’t want your little sister to notice those things. “You don’t have to be worried, sometimes I have to cry to be strong again.”
She looked at you confused. “Do you cry because of Thanos?” She asked without fear in her voice as she said his name. You nodded. “Maybe when we talk about something else, you’ll be happy again.”
“I thought you wanted to train today?” You asked her.
“Yes I do but I want you to be happy more.” She replied with a smile.
You were surprised how brave Morgan was. On the other hand, you couldn’t say Thanos name so easily and Morgan did know enough stories why.
“Okay, what do you wanna talk about?”
Morgan gave you a smile again. “Tell me about Peter. Dad talks about him sometimes and I saw a picture but I don’t really knew him. He seems important to both of you. Maybe you can tell me who he was or how he knew Dad and you.”
You smiled. You didn’t know exactly where to start with Peter.
                                            ~*~
You were new at school and Peter and you had some classes together. You didn’t talk much to each other, where you blamed his shyness for. You always thought it was unfounded that he was so shy. Peter looked good, he had short brown hair, was tall and he was athletic. It seemed like it was important for him to be always very polite and helpful. He was also very clever, but his grades were not the best, as he often had to leave class or didn’t attend school at all for any reason.
One day, when you sneaked into your father's laboratory before school, you saw the not-so-secret file of “Spider-Man, the friendly neighborhood spider”, as he called himself. When you saw the picture of Peter Parker, suddenly it all made sense.
From that day on, you have made it your mission to give Peter a little help. Sometimes you made excuses for him, why he wasn’t in class and sometimes you even did his homework, nobody noticed and he never knew who helped him because you put his homework in his locker late at night, for him you broke into you school. You thought it was the least you could do for him, as he always helped all the people in the neighborhood while nobody helped him.
Then the day came when your father and your family split because of the sokovia accords. During this time, you felt more lonely than ever, you couldn’t join Steve’s side, someone who always showed you the right way all your life, neither could you stay with your dad, whom you loved above all else. Since you were trained by the Avengers, your father wanted to keep out of everything, not that anyone of your family would’ve let you fight their battles but you where in the middle, so you decided to run away but no one even noticed... At this time Tony had just turned to Peter, who should help him in the fight against Cap in Germany.
After the fight, Peter noticed that you were always the first in school and the last who left. Then he found some clothes, school supplies and food in a storeroom and counted one and one together. He always put new food in the room and even brought you some clothes. He wondered why you wouldn’t go back home but Cap and his Team were on the run, your dad seemed trying to safe what was left of the Avengers. For Peter it looked like no one had the time to think about you and it was hard for him to think about how bad you must’ve felt that your dad didn’t even notice that you were gone.
At first you thought that Pepper took care of you and somehow figured out where you had been hiding. But one day, when Peter wanted to bring you something to eat again later at night when you’d usually sleep, you were awake in the storeroom - that was the day Peter took your hand and brought you home to May and him, where you lived for a while.
You told Peter everything: how much you wanted to be an Avenger and that you also had the potential to safe people but that your dad wouldn’t let you. You told him why you ran away, that you couldn’t live in an empty Avenger tower with no Avenger, no Family left.
After a while both of you became best friends. You started training together and sometimes Peter and you protected the neighborhood in your self-made supersuits. Until you fell in love with him. At this time after months, you went back “home”. You thought that if you’d ever tell Peter about your feelings that your friendship would be ruined for ever and that was a risk you didn’t want to take.
                                           ~*~
“This is a stupid story.” Morgan throw in. “Why would you go and not tell him what you felt for him, when you were best friends? He would’ve felt in love with you too.”
You chuckled. “Well, you’re right. That was why he had to be the smart one. I left Peters home without a word and didn’t tell him where I was going. He looked every for me. “You remembered. “He never thought I’d go back to an empty Avenger Tower but that was what I did. No one lived there anymore so it was safe but eventually he found me, came through my window and forced me to talk to him-“ Morgan smiled because of Peter’s decision. “But not only did Peter find me that day, Mom and Dad also went to the Tower because the alarms went off that someone broke in… because Peter just had to use the windows as entrance.”
Morgan looked worried, her father always told her, "she should never bring a guy home."
You laughed as you saw her face as she thought about what Tony might have done to Peter. “Don’t worry, dad was actually pretty calm but probably because mom hugged Peter the second she saw him. She was very thankful that May and him were there for me and made sure everything was alright.” You smiled. 
“As I said, Peter was always very polite but also very loyal and while he was glad to have Dad’s recognition because he was his idol, Peter just wanted to come and talk to me.” You remembered smirking. “We sat down on my bed and he asked a thousand times what was wrong, he apologized as if he did anything wrong, which obviously was not the case but he also told me that he missed me and wanted me to come back to him, that his home wouldn’t feel like a home without me in it.” until I finally gave in and blurred out that I liked him more than friends should.
Morgan kept her hands in front of her mouth so she wouldn’t squeal for joy. As well as Pepper, Morgan was a big fan of romantic and she loved the story with Peter and you already.
You chuckled as you looked at her. “But Peter didn’t say anything for a few seconds, which was when I stood up and was about to leave the room - I was embarrassed. He nearly jumped up, grabbed my hand and twirled me to him - than he kissed me... and the rest is history.”
Morgan and you laughed happily. It was nice to tell her about Peter's and your story, even though Morgan was your sister, despite her being so young, she was your best friend. With her you could talk about everything, even if she didn’t always understood everything. Whenever you two had times like this, you forgot about everything around you and how grown up you should act, you were just happy, you also didn’t notice your dad standing outside and listening.
                                          ~*~
Tony went back into the house and straight into the kitchen, where Pepper prepared the meal. He leaned against a chair for a second until he reached for the top shelf above the sink and took down the picture of himself and Peter.
Pepper recognized Tony's gaze, that he was in a complicated position, but decided to wait to say something until he would open up to her.
“Do you remember what I said?” He asked Pepper still looking at the Photo in his hands.
“Yes.” She replied and knew exactly what her husband meant. “The idea you thought about putting in a box and throw it in the sea.”
He nodded. “Maybe I can bring everyone back.” Tony mumbled.
Pepper went to him and leaned gently against Tony's shoulders. "One of my few mistakes was trying to stop you from doing something and I'm not doing that again."
“Y/N, she misses him.”
“So do you.” Pepper added. “And if you’re the only one who can bring everyone back, shouldn’t you at least try?”
Tony turned to her and looked into her eyes, “Do you know how much I love you and how lucky I am to have such a beautiful and smart wife?”
She grinned. “Yeah, I can imagine.” 
Pepper wrapped her arms around Tony’s neck while he gently placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer to him, to kiss her. 
“Ugh.” Morgan and you said disgusted.
“Get a room.” You added.
“Or dinner ready.” Morgan chuckled.
                                         ~*~
Later that evening, when Morgan was already in bed and Pepper and Tony were watching a movie, you went to the garage to work on your suit. The fear of Thanos, despite him being dead, was still in your bones. Which was why you tried to make your nano suit as good as indestructible, because if ever you were to end up with a similar threat as Thanos, you would protect your family at all costs.
“You should sleep.” Tony said soft as he entered the garage.
Tony was proud and worried about how much you worked on your suit. Therefore, he helped you as much as he could, but unlike him, no one could force you to take a break, except Morgan when she was awake.
“Y/N, I need to talk to you.” 
You looked at your dad. He had the look that you were most scared of as a kid, the look when he told you again that he would go on a business trip for a long time and Pepper had to take care of you.
“I think there is a possibility that I can bring everyone back. That I can bring Peter back. I didn’t want to do it first, bury the idea but-”
You had a spark in your eyes which quickly faded. “You heard me talking about him.” Your father was surprised, he was sure that you didn’t notice him. “What? I’d hear you a mile away. Natasha thought me how to recognize your steps and listen carefully, so Peter and I could make out but be prepared if you’d check on us.” You chuckled.
“Yep, maybe I should let that little punk stay where he is now.” Your dad replied and you pushed him softly. “No, I mean it.” You both laughed.
“I don’t want you to do this just for me, Dad... but-”
You looked at him and he recognized what was behind this look. You radiated how determined and brave you were, how much you wanted to help and how much you wanted him to be proud of you. You had this look already as a child.
“-I’m going to help you.”
Tony just smiled and wrapped his arm around you to kiss your head. “I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become Y/N, but no, you won’t.” You looked confused and also angry at him. “I need you to stay here, to protect Pepper and Morgen.”
“-But dad.”
“No, keep going to train her but make sure she stays a kid for as long as possible. I already stole your childhood, and I don’t want to make the same mistake again.” He noticed a tear rolling down your face and wiped it away.
You had the feeling that this conversation was more a goodbye than just a talk with you.
 “I’m not mad at you for training her, but I think it’s better if we keep it between us three.” He winked and you both laughed soft, as you thought about what Pepper would do to all of you, if she would ever find out. 
“What’re you going to do?” You asked him and hugged him.
Tony leaned his head against your’s. “I’ll bring our whole family back and I’ve to throw Steve the shield on his hand for turning Scott into a baby.” 
You chuckled as he said that. Morgan, Pepper and you were a part of his family but the family would never be complete if the Avengers wouldn’t be in it.
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Taglist: @marvelgladers, @profoundlyunimpressedwiththeban, @abswritesfandoms, @not-so-epic-iii, @queenylime, @onceuponagleepottermindlock, @alainabooks143, @clockblobber, @cliffordmess, @bartonsbowandarrow, @memelovescaps, @adriennelenoir, @laurxn-robinson, @a-studying-narnian-demigod, @staplerrrr, @vaehina
___________________________
It would mean the world to me if you’d leave some comments and tell me what you think about part three of Sulit! 
xoxo
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wutroows · 5 years ago
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a box of bandaids. peter parker
a/n: this is my first story i’m posting on tumblr. i wrote this in may and posted it on wattpad, only to delete it after a few weeks. i think this is somewhere on deviantart as well but rest assured, this is also me! nonetheless, please enjoy! warnings: catcalling & sexual comments that may make people feel uncomfortable, non-consensual touching & violence (it's marvel, what do you expect)
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every day, there seemed to be more bruises. more cuts splayed all over your body. your knuckles were skinned, and your legs and arms had dark purple and blue marks all over them. whoever your soulmate was certainly got into a lot of trouble. every day, there was something else. one morning, you woke up with a deep cut in your stomach and another, a broken wrist. at first, you thought he had gotten beat up, but then you realised this happened every. day. and you began to feel bad for your soulmate. how could they go through this pain all the time?
usually, the pain came at ungodly hours of the night. on some nights, you woke up screaming and your mother had to come in and console you to get you to finally go back to bed. your mother was a lovely woman, who's soulmate wasn't your father. she first married him out of impulse, being bored. your mothers real soulmate was a woman named elizabeth, and you immediately took a liking to her. having another woman in the house was always a plus.
the pain first started about a year ago. sure, you had gotten occasional bruises or scraped knees, but nothing you couldn't handle. you noticed a small bite on your hand, it swelled badly but soon went away after a few weeks. the pain hadn't stopped since a month or so after that. you had your thoughts that maybe he was a thug, or he just liked to get into fights for fun but you soon realised that couldn't be happening during the school day. but it still was. what could he be doing during the school day where he was out, getting practically beaten almost every day?
you shook the thought out of your head, sitting the coffee cup you just took a drink of down on the table in front of you. the hot sensation of the coffee slipping down your throat burned a little. you hoped your soulmate could at least feel that, but in some ways you also wished he didn't. he already went through so much pain in the first place.
the work in front of you never seemed so boring as you sat in your local café. the words on the screen began to look like a jumbled mess as your thoughts slowly became more and more occupied with your soulmate. what did he look like? no.. you shook the thought out of your head as quickly as it got there. you would love him for his personality, though having good looks would be a plus. a smirk formed on your lips before you quickly realized what you were thinking about. you shook your head, furrowing your eyebrows before you stood up. you couldn't focus on your schoolwork like this. the paper you had to finish for your english class could wait. maybe thinking of your soulmate was just a good way to procrastinate (something you had been rather good at since a young age).
you gathered your items, consisting of a laptop and the coffee you had previously ordered from a barista named hanna, (who had her dyed purple hair tied up in a messy bun, telling you that she did not feel like being at work that morning so if your coffee was bad she apologized). you quickly made your way out of the café, putting your computer in your bag and holding onto your coffee with both of your hands in front of you. your apartment you shared with your grandmother was only a ten minute walk away. you told yourself you should've probably called an uber to get you back to your apartment before you left, but you shrugged and decided to walk home anyways.
it was dark outside, around 9 pm. the stars shined brightly over-head behind the bright lights of new york. there were just about no one walking around at the moment, and the less people you saw the more anxious you got about walking home. you regretted not calling an uber at this point, seeing the group of men a little up ahead from you. they all seemed drunk, stumbling around outside of the bar.
"hey pretty lady!" you heard one of them call, moving closer to you. you started to back away, just a little bit. you moved your keys to your apartment in between your fingers, something your grandmother told you to do if you needed to defend yourself while walking home. your heart pounded in your chest as you saw them stumble towards you.
"what's a cute little lady like you doing out here this late?" he slurred, his eyes staring you up and down like you were a piece of meat. "w-walking home." you stuttered back, not wanting to not give the man a response. you felt if you didn't this situation would get worse. "well.. me and the boys," he gestured behind him to the other three or so men behind him, "could always escort you back to your home." he finished, a sly smirk on his chapped, thin lips as he took another step towards you. "n-no thank you, now if you'll excuse me.."
you sidestepped around the man, only for his hand to find your wrist, pulling you into his side. he took a glance down your f/c shirt, making you feel even more uncomfortable than you had already felt before. "scars, huh?" he muttered under his breath, "i take it.. you like pain? a masochist?" he chuckled, his arms wrapping around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. you prayed for someone, anyone to come and rescue you at this point.
your eyes closed, slowly trying to wiggle yourself out of his grip but with each of your movements his grip seemed to get tighter. "c'mon, doll.. enjoy this. your first time is always fun.."
he dragged you into the alleyway a few feet away from his friends, they positioned themselves in a line at the entrance. you were screwed, at this point you were positive you were going to be raped. your grip loosened, slowly giving up. you weren't strong enough to fight back against this guy, whoever he was. he pushed your chest against the brick wall of the alleyway, and at this point you knew it. your first time doing anything sexual would be with this drunk pervert.
you heard a thud, and the man behind you took a glance over his shoulder. his grip on you loosened, and you took this as a chance to bring back your elbow as far as you could, elbowing him directly in the jaw. "what the fuck, lady?" he practically screamed, his hand that had been gripping onto your waist now held his jaw. "nice hit, miss!" you heard an oddly familiar voice around you somewhere. you looked ahead of you, past the man and saw the one and only spider-man coning to save the day.
"i'm sorry you have to see this, miss.." he muttered to you, before quickly punching the man in the stomach, making him bend over. spider-man brought up his foot, kicking the man so hard his back hit the wall behind him. he took a breath, "let's hope this guy doesn't get back up." he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. your eyes widened at the sight in front of you, "y-you saved me.." you laughed, breathlessly. you weren't necessarily out of breath, but it was more like you were in shock. queens' neighborhood hero stood in front of you.
"well.. um, yeah." he laughed embarrassedly. his voice sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite pinpoint where you knew it from because you had definitely never ran into spider-man before. "can i repay you? somehow?"
"o-oh, no, definitely no." he nodded to you, "your safety is all i need." he shook his head, "god, that sounded stupid. i sound stupid, okay, spidey, let's get it together this time." he muttered to himself, "i mean, don't." he finished, letting out a breath he probably didn't realise he'd been holding.
"you sound funny." you spoke up after a few moments, "what?" he asked, his head tilting a little bit. you could very vividly picture the face of a teenage boy with an eyebrow raised in confusion from underneath the mask. "i said.. you sound funny, spider-man." you laughed, a smile forming on your lips despite the situation that had just happened a few minutes prior. "well.. my soulmate did burn their tongue earlier. i'm beginning to think that.. they don't like me like, at all. i mean, i wouldn't like me either, i'm getting hurt all the time.." he finished his sentence with an awkward chuckle and you raided an eyebrow.
you reared your hand back and punched the wall in front of you as hard as you could and you had to hold back the urge to scream. you heard your knuckles crack on impact, you were positive you had broken at least one of them by the stupid stunt you had just pulled. you had to find out one way or another, and judging by the way he was holding his hand in his other right after you did that, you had the answer you needed.
"so.. you're my soulmate." you laughed, taking a few steps forward to be eye to eye with him. "i-i mean.. what? why did you do that i.. wait, what? you're my soulmate, oh my god.. there's no way.." he mumbled, his hands going to his mask as if he were covering up an embarrassed blush. you grabbed onto his hands with your own, letting them rest at his sides.
"can i take a guess, spidey?" you asked him, licking your lips in thought. you definitely knew the identity behind the mask, there was only one person you knew who ranted like that whenever he was talking. who told himself to shut up, out loud. "to your identity?"
he nodded, slowly. your hands came up to the ends of his mask and his hands found yours again, "peter, i know it's you." you smiled, pulling up the ends of his mask to where you could see his lips. he groaned, "how? how did you figure it out.. first mj.. now you? i can't keep doing this, y/n- i can't, all of queens will know who i am soon enough, dumb peter parker is spider-man? no way!" he let out a sigh, a small pout on his lips, clearly defeated. you held onto his hands and pulled him onto a side alleyway where you knew no one would see.
you finally pulled his mask off, and the familiar brown eyes of one of your best friends met yours. "i had my suspicions, pete.." you chuckled, your fingers weaving through his own. he ran his free hand through his hair, his eyes closing. "promise me you won't tell..?" you nodded, taking in a deep breath before continuing. "i just.. never thought we were.. soulmates." you mumbled, "but i'm glad it's you! really, i am glad but.. you put me through a shit-ton of pain, peter parker."
"i'll buy you a box of bandaids and a trip to mcdonalds."
"deal.."
you laughed, releasing his hand. you cupped one of his cheeks, leaning in just a bit to where your lips ghosted over his. "promise me one thing, pete.." he nodded, "anything, y/n.."
"stop getting hurt all the time."
with that, you leaned forwards and slowly pressed a kiss to his lips. you felt your heartbeat quicken as your lips met his. they were warm, but slightly chapped. you hadn't realised how many times you'd pictured kissing your best friend until now.
"t-the bandaids?"
"r-right, um.. yeah. the bandaids."
words: 2001
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berniesrevolution · 6 years ago
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IN THESE TIMES
Dr. James Peter Warbasse opined in the journal Co-operation, “Once the people of New York City lived in their own houses, but those days have gone. … The houses are owned by landlords who conduct them, not for the purpose of domiciling the people in health and comfort, but for the single purpose of making money out of tenants.” That was in 1919.
A century later, things have gone from bad to worse. A quarter of U.S. households pay more than half their income in rent. In New York City, homelessness has hit record levels.
Most activists can reel off a list of demands to address the housing crisis: rent control, community land trusts, affordable housing development. But one of the most effective strategies has been forgotten. A century ago, the labor movement in New York City planned and executed a bluntly practical solution to the problem of housing: Build it.
Today, more than 100,000 New Yorkers live in apartments built by the labor movement between 1926 and 1974, mostly through an organization called the United Housing Foundation. Roughly 40,000 still-affordable cooperative housing units—Amalgamated Houses, Concourse Village and Co-op City in the Bronx; Penn South in the heart of Manhattan; 1199 Plaza in East Harlem; Rochdale Village and Electchester in Queens; Amalgamated Warbasse in Brooklyn—stand as monuments to what an organized working class can achieve. This housing provides a bulwark against gentrification and a blueprint for ending the housing crisis. Let’s look at how it all got started, how it came to an end and what it would take for labor to build again.
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RADICAL BEGINNINGS
The story begins in 1916 in Brooklyn’s Sunset Park, where immigrant workers from Finland found themselves overcharged for subpar housing. Members of the Brooklyn Finnish Socialist Club figured out they could build higher quality housing for less than it would cost to rent from a landlord. Sixteen families came together to form the Finnish Home Building Association. Their first construction project was financed by equity contributions of $500 each from six families, “comrade loans” totaling $12,000 from neighborhood residents and a $25,000 bank loan.
The first building, named Alku (Finnish for “beginning”), was completed that year. Within a decade, there were almost 30 Finnish-owned co-op buildings in Sunset Park, with carrying costs (a monthly maintenance fee paid by each household) around half the rent of similar apartments in privately owned buildings. Members were forbidden from selling their units at a profit to ensure lasting affordability. In a pattern that would be repeated for decades to come, the housing co-ops became part of a local co-op ecosystem that included a restaurant, bakery and grocery store.
This model of affordable housing cooperative was so new that state law had no legal classification for it until the 1920s. Alku soon inspired a wave of limited-equity cooperative development by other radical worker organizations.
In 1925, a Yiddish Communist group called United Workers began planning a housing cooperative in the Bronx. They raised money through bond sales advertised in the radical Yiddish daily Morgen Freiheit (“Freedom Tomorrow”) and were able to buy an empty tract of land next to Bronx Park. Tenants were recruited from the general public. The United Workers Cooperative Colony, known as “The Coops” (rhymes with “soups”), opened in 1927 and rapidly added a second building for a total of 2,000 residents. The neo-Tudor garden apartment building, encircling a central courtyard, was an escape from the suffocating windowlessness of Lower East Side tenements—and it was affordable. It was as much a political project as an economic one, with a 20,000-volume library, regular cultural and political programming, and involvement in the broader community through a network of co-op businesses, political support for local tenants and workers, and attempts at racial integration.
The Coops inspired other Jewish left organizations to launch similar projects, turning the Bronx into a hub for experiments in working class cooperative housing. The Arbeiter Ring (Workmen’s Circle) launched Shalom Aleichem houses across the park, followed by the Farband Houses, built by the Yidisher Natsyonaler Arbeter Farband (Jewish National Workers Alliance). And soon, a more powerful backer would help the co-op movement scale up across the city: labor unions.
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HOUSE OF LABOR
The bulk of the 40,000+ units of limited-equity cooperative housing sponsored by the labor movement in New York City originated with an immigrant garment worker-turned-union organizer named Abraham Kazan.
Kazan was a true believer. In the 1960s, after he had completed tens of thousands of units of housing, Gov. Nelson Rockefeller told him in passing he would have done well if he had gone into business. Kazan replied, “I am a cooperator, interested only in building the cooperative commonwealth.”
Kazan immigrated to the United States in 1904 at age 15 to escape anti-Semitism in the Ukraine, and was influenced by anarchist ideas and a stint on a proto-Kibbutz in New Jersey. After helping organize a small strike at his job as a garment worker, he eventually went on staff with the International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union (ILGWU) and later the Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America. As a union staffer, he began promoting cooperatives. His first successful project was a consumer co-op business that provided 7,000 union members with sugar and matzo during World War I. He soon began dreaming of building housing.
Gathering rank-and-file garment workers and a handful of low-level union staffers, Kazan incorporated the group as “ACW Corporation,” using the union’s initials “to give the impression we had a Big Brother behind us in this effort”—though they lacked the union’s formal backing.
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(A 1957 diagram shows how Amalgamated Houses and other cooperatives govern themselves: one member, one vote.)
It took the possibility of government support for Amalgamated to throw its weight behind co-operative housing. In 1926 New York state passed the Limited Dividend Housing Companies Law, granting condemnation rights and local tax abatements to housing companies that limited profits and restricted rents to affordable levels.
The ACW Corporation drew up plans to develop a 303-unit cooperative in the Bronx. It sold shares to future residents at $500 each (about three months’ pay for a union worker). The union-owned Amalgamated Bank agreed to loan each resident up to 50 percent of the cost of their equity stake, and the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company provided a $1.2 million mortgage. The Jewish Daily Forward also helped secure financing and provided short-term loans to cover cost overruns.
Ground was broken Thanksgiving Day 1926, and the first residents moved in the following November. By early 1928, the Amalgamated Houses were fully occupied. The cooperators (as co-op residents were called) soon launched a cooperative grocery store, milk delivery service and even a bus service to bring workers to the subway. In the decades that followed, the housing cooperative grew to around 1,500 units. The Great Depression wiped out many New York City cooperatives, but Amalgamated cooperators’ willingness to help support their neighbors—combined with cagey negotiations with creditors—helped them survive the Great Depression. Kazan’s model worked.
Soon more unions followed.In 1949, IBEW Local 3 President Harry Van Arsdale Jr. began planning a cooperative housing development called Electchester in Queens. Union members provided the labor, some paid and some volunteer. Over 17 years, Electchester expanded to 38 buildings with around 2,500 units of housing. Van Arsdale himself lived there. It became a social and cultural hub for the Local, with a bowling alley, auditorium, movie theater, cocktail bar, coffee shop, shopping center, library and a host of clubs and social organizations.
To popularize cooperative development with other unions and carry out projects on a larger scale, Kazan created the United Housing Foundation (UHF) in 1951, a coalition of organizations and individuals that included 19 unions. UHF was to be funded by a modest 1 percent fee on the cost of building each development. To carry out the actual construction work, Kazan created a second organization to act as general contractor, Community Services Inc., which built the housing and provided technical assistance.
The housing units were open to any worker, union or not, so long as they were below a limit on income. Applicants had to show up and wait in line on the day applications were accepted.
As the postwar era progressed, the stars would align for an unprecedented expansion of labor’s cooperatives, boosted by mainstream political support. But the patronage of New York City’s political class came with strings attached.
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HOME FRONT
“We have wiped out the sweatshop; we return to wipe out the slum,” intoned ILGWU President David Dubinsky at the groundbreaking ceremony of the East River Houses in 1953, funded in part by his union. The brand-new red- brick towers loomed above the dilapidated low-rise tenements of the Lower East Side. This was where the parents and grandparents of so many New York City unionists had toiled doing garment work. Dubinsky’s generation saw it as their duty to eradicate exploitation from the blocks where they grew up.
In returning to wipe out the slum, these prodigal sons found unlikely allies in New York’s ruling class. Slum clearance policies made land available, and in 1955, labor helped pass the Limited-Profit Housing Companies Act, better known as the Mitchell-Lama program. It provided low-interest mortgages and tax abatements for limited- equity cooperatives and affordable rentals. Over 100,000 units of housing would be built under the program. More than half were cooperatives, the majority of which were built by Kazan’s UHF.
Political support was forthcoming in part because labor’s cooperatives fit within the “urban renewal” paradigm charted out by men like Parks Commissioner Robert Moses. In the postwar era, political elites across the U.S. reconfigured cities to force new patterns of mass consumption (car and home ownership) and racial segregation. The federal government provided guarantees for home loans to whites, facilitating white flight. Awash with federal subsidies and tax breaks, Moses and others used their powers under “slum clearance” laws to bulldoze neighborhoods to build highways and high-rise housing. They created a racialized hierarchy of urban housing: public housing for the poor (mostly people of color), cooperative housing for middle-income workers (mostly white), and private-market luxury for the white ruling class.
(Continue Reading)
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gallifreyanlibertea · 7 years ago
Text
Flirt
“What are you supposed to be, Peter?”
“Harry Potter, Mr. Jones.” And Peter rolled his eyes, pushing his blond bangs up to expose the rather neatly-drawn lightning bolt on his forehead.
Alfred didn’t need to see the scar to believe that the boy was meant to be Harry Potter. In fact, he could see it in the very obvious Hogwarts Uniform and the wand Peter clutched in his little fist, yes, it was apparent enough.
But Lord forgive him for wanting to see that adorable little pout on Peter’s face, or the look of pure annoyance in Peter’s eyes as he informed the dumb adult in front of him, it was precious, really.
It reminded Alfred of the look he strived to pull out of the little boy’s father- A look, and really just any look from those eyes, that sent Alfred’s heart racing.
A look from the man who stood behind Peter with a similar, annoyed, green-eyed gaze, one hand on his hip, the other on Peter’s shoulder.
“You know, Peter, I actually have a wand that has a light-up tip. Call me to remind me the next weekend I go to my parents’ place and I’ll go get it for you.”
“Mr. Jones, you know I don’t have a phone,” Peter said with a giggle.
“Ah, well, you could just give me your dad’s number-”
“It was a good effort.” Arthur Kirkland said with brows that bounced up in tandem with the curve of Alfred’s abashed grin. “But no cigar. Try again later.”
Alfred laughed it off, watching as Peter shot away from Arthur’s side to play fight with Alfred’s own little angel, Amelia.
Alfred was grateful for the fact that she was still so young. Amelia was still obedient, still respectful, and most delightful of all, she still needed a chaperone to take her Trick or Treating, which meant Alfred would spend the next few hours attempting to woo Amelia’s best friend’s father- the man Alfred had been shamelessly in love with since he and Peter moved into the neighborhood a few months ago.
“I didn’t know we were required to wear costumes,” Arthur muttered.
“Heh, well Amelia insisted.” Alfred lied, hand rubbing at the back of his neck obliviously.
The obliviousness was faked, of course. Alfred was fully aware of his Superman costume and its emphasis on the body he’d been training at the gym. He was fully aware of the way Arthur’s eyes lingered on the contours of Alfred’s biceps before they glanced back towards the kids, who’d taken to running up their third driveway.
Arthur cleared his throat. “Well, you don’t seem too bothered by it.”
“Nah, I love Halloween.”
“I figured.” Arthur snorted, “You’re the closest to a child of all the adults I know.”
Alfred supposed that meant he was upgraded from weirdo neighbor to adult I know and he was fine with it. It was better than his situation last month, where he’d taken to jumping through hoops and hellfire to get the green-eyed man to spare him at least one glance. At least one smile.
Alfred never considered himself to be a bad flirt, yet Arthur had the power to reduce him to one. In fact, what was usually a two-minute endeavor to ask for someone’s number- “Hey, I’m your new neighbor! Here’s my number, I’d love to introduce you to the rest of the parents on the block, my daughter’s in your son’s class by the way!”
It became a- “H- uh, hey… I, um.”
“Yes?” Arthur had said, composure calm and cool. He’d had one hand on Peter’s shoulder, eyes inquisitive as he gazed at Alfred’s shuffling feet, at Alfred’s stuttering lips, at Alfred’s rather full shopping cart that he wished he could blame on Amelia if it weren’t for the fact that she had been at home with her grandmother that day.
“I-”
Pull it together Alfred. Compliment his son or something! “Your son Peter seems smart”… ah, no, he seems cute? Yeah, he’s cute. He’s cute.
Your son is cute. It was a strange yet valid compliment that Alfred had wished came out of his lips that day. Instead- “You’re, uh, you’re cute!”
Fuck.
“Uh, I meant- no, I- can I get your number?”
Fuck!
Arthur had furrowed his brows. “I beg your pardon?”
And Alfred should’ve used his good-ole charm to salvage at least something from that disastrous conversation, but no. “Ah, nevermind.” He’d said instead, and he’d speed-walked his cart away from a rather confused Arthur Kirkland.
Which was one of the reasons he’d dreaded every second of Amelia dragging him up the Kirkland driveway only a week later, to sell Girl Scout cookies to the place where one of her newest friends lived.
It hadn’t been enough time for Alfred to heal. He had stood, head down in shame, as Amelia knocked on the door.
And Arthur had opened it, still as strangely-attractive as ever. Arthur with his old-man clothes clinging to his thin, small frame, politely-smiling lips forming accented words, “Well hello there, love!”
He’d then glanced over at Alfred, eyebrows furrowing as if wondering just where he’d seen Alfred before.
He’d then paused, cheeks flushing a slight red before he turned his attention back to Amelia. “I’ll buy a box of the Thin Mints.”
Alfred supposed it would be over with that, yet Amelia just had to go squealing into the house, trailing behind a Peter who had promised to show her his action figure collection. It left the adults lingering at the door. Alfred waited for Arthur to meet his gaze.
A small, curt wave. “Hi, I’m Amelia’s father, Alfred.” He’d said.
Arthur nodded. “I remember you.”
A slight smile on Arthur’s lips, albeit just polite, had been what Alfred had taken as a sign to crack a dumb, idiotic joke. “And I remember you. You’re still cute.”
Arthur had blinked and Alfred wanted to kick himself.
“I-”
Alfred interrupted the other man, “So our kids seem to be best friends now, yeah? It’s weird how quick they befriend each other.”
Arthur seemed grateful for the change in topic, “Yes, children never cease to amaze me.”
If anyone asked how it had come to be, that Alfred would shamelessly flirt with Arthur who’d, in turn, ignore Alfred’s advances, Alfred would take them back to those very first interactions. Those very first interactions that set a precedent, that sparked a realization in Alfred’s mind that somehow, despite wanting to die after every single time he managed to embarrass himself in front of the man, it was worth it seeing that pale, freckled face change color.
Alfred had become addicted to it. “It’s starting to get cold out here, I love autumn.” Arthur had said to Alfred one day, as the two made small talk by their mailboxes.
Alfred had smirked, “I already miss summer if it means I won’t get to see you in shorts for a year.”
Oh, the look on Arthur’s face had been delicious. A blend of annoyance, a roll of those eyes, and an abashed flush of those cheeks. 
Addicting.
Arthur watched as Peter scrambled back with his pillowcase significantly more full than Amelia’s.
Amelia buried her head into her father’s stomach, “It’s not fair, dad!”
“I’m sure Peter won’t mind sharing,” Arthur assured, and Peter scowled up at him.
“Dad!”
“That’s alright, Peter, I was gonna go buy Amy three bucketfuls of candy after this anyway,” Alfred said with a warm smile, and Amelia perked up.
“Sweet!”
And the two were back on their mission to raid the neighborhood of its candy.
“How long do you think we’ll be out here?” Arthur huffed, eyes blinking down at the time on his phone. “It’s been an hour already.”
“Let them have fun,” Alfred said with a grin, waving back as Amelia turned to proudly thrust her pillowcase in the air, one that had become fuller after the latest reap. “Besides, it’s not too bad out here with just you and me, is it?”
Arthur’s cheeks glowed red. “It’s nippy, I worry about Peter catching a cold.”
“He’s got a scarf and the thickest cloak I’ve seen,” Alfred replied. “If it’s you that’s cold, I’d be happy to warm you under my cape.”
A pause. A clear of Arthur’s throat. “Peter’s actually very happy Amelia agreed to be the Hermione to his Harry, they’ve gotten so close. This is their- what? Fifth outing together? Or do they call these ‘play-dates’?”
“Play-dates, yeah.” Alfred bit his lip, eyes glancing over to find Arthur rather deep in thought with his eyes trained on the ground. “Yanno, we should probably start having some of our own, since we’ll be seeing each other so much ‘cause of the kids.”
Alfred found himself snickering at Arthur’s flustered response. A string of sputtered words, cheeks blazing as eyes glared into Alfred’s own.
“Wh- why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Act like some high-school football-player flirt.” Arthur seethed, yet there was some degree of affection behind that mask of an expression. Alfred saw it in those smiling green eyes.
He saw it in the slight, abashed step Arthur took in the opposite direction as Alfred stepped closer. “I like annoying you, to be honest.”
“I get enough of that from Peter, I assure you,” Arthur said.
“I doubt Peter does it for the same reasons I do.”
“And what is that?” A roll of those eyes.
Alfred supposed Arthur didn’t expect him to be bold. Why would he, when Alfred had shied away from outright asking Arthur out- straight up, no jokes- so many times?
Hell, even Alfred didn’t expect himself to be so bold, but then again, he hadn’t expected to be so bold the first day he’d spoken to Arthur either. “I’ve been trying to go on a nice solid date with you for months now, yanno?”
Arthur stilled.
He shuffled his feet, something Alfred had never seen him do, no, because Arthur was too composed. This had to be the first time Alfred had gotten to him.
Alfred watched as Arthur checked his phone for the time, pocketing it to cross his arms, as if Alfred hadn’t said anything. 
Silence. 
His lips then parted for words, no doubt awkward ones to follow.
But Alfred was a grade-A idiot so he stepped to Arthur’s side, sweeping the smaller figure underneath his cape, an arm slung around those slim shoulders as if to shield Arthur from the harsh October wind.
“Wh-”
“Enough about me, how can a hero do nothing when you look so cold?” Alfred reasoned, and Arthur looked positively done. He drew his brows together, he snapped at Alfred.
“God, Jones, you are a right creep.” A right weirdo. You’re such a child, who even says something like that in their thirties? The rest of Arthur’s insults had drowned out underneath Alfred’s boyish laugh.
And Arthur did this for the rest of the night. Yes, banter upon banter upon a frustrated Alfred struggling to keep up with comebacks.
Arthur had never moved out from under Alfred’s arm.
Alfred had triumphantly entered Arthur Kirkland’s contact into his phone by the end of the day.
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reject-princess97 · 7 years ago
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Tom Holland Imagine
(In this Tom and Reader are 25 years old.)
I turned around in the spot, looking around the room that had been decorated for my daughters fifth birthday themed birthday party. The theme of the party was The Avengers. Why, because her dad is Spider man.
OK so he's not THE Spider man, her dad is the actor who plays Peter Parker/ Spider man, Tom Holland. Tom and I have been together for ten years now and we are as happy as ever.
At the age of 11 Tom and I met on the show of Billy Elliot, I was an extra in the dance class while he played Billy Elliot. We became fast friends and you both got on really well. You started dating at the age of 15 and have been together ever since. at the age of 20 we found out I was pregnant and we were over the moon. Our family were so supportive and helped us out when ever we needed it. Tom and I went crazy with all the shopping we did, we bought anything and everything we saw babies and toddlers needed and nine months later I gave birth to our baby girl Parker Elizabeth Holland, named after the role that made Tom the big actor he is now and after my best friend Elizabeth Olson who I met after Tom got the part as Peter Parker in Captain America : Civil War and that our life changed forever.
And now here I am, Five years later, preparing Parker's birthday party with help from Elizabeth Olson, Scarlett Johansson and my Mum and Tom's Mum were readying the food for the party to start.
"Y/N, are you OK?" I heard someone ask I turned to see Jeremy Renner smiled at me as he entered the room, holding a box with Parker's birthday cake inside. I nodded and shrugged,
"I guess it just feels weird without Tom here." I replied as I took the cake from his arms and placed it on the table that all the food is on and opened the box to look at the cake that had a picture of Parker and Tom smiling at the camera and a big gold glittery 5 candle stood in the middle.
"I know but you know he wanted to be here, it was his agent who got in the interview on the same day." Scarlett called over. I nodded and smiled.
"I know that and Tom said he was pissed at him for doing that." I laughed, making the others laugh as we finished of the decorations.
I had met the MARVEL actors while Tom was shooting for Captain America: Civil War, I had gone with him to the set a lot and when Tom was filming I would sit and talk to anyone that wasn't ��in the scene. The after a while I met other actors at premieres like Chris Hemsworth and Mark Ruffalo and when Tom started filming other Avengers movies we all became closer until they all became family, so of course they were all invited to the party and most were helping set up, while Rob and Mark had taken Parker out until we were ready.
Coming to Parker's Birthday party was  Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan,Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Renner, Mark Ruffalo, RDJ, Scarlett Johannson and Paul Bettney and Elizabeth Olsen. It had been Lizzy's idea to have arranged that they all would change into costume and become their characters so Parker and her friends can have pictures with them. There was also the actors kids and the kids from Parker's school class My parents and family and Toms parents and family as well a Zandaya and Harry, Tom's friends so the party was pretty big.
"And we're done!" I heard Chris E shout as he pinned up the last of the banners. Just in time to, it was almost 5 with meant the guest would be arriving soon. I smiled and grabbed my bag and wan into the bathroom and pulled out my change of clothes.
I put on a pair of black skinny jeans, a red top that came down to about mid thigh, a blue leather jacket and a pair of black converse high tops, I let my hair fall into it's natural mess of curls and and added a Spider man bow that Parker had picked out for me.
I exited the bathroom and smiled as I noticed guests had started to arrive. Before I even had time to move from the bathroom door I heard a high pitch screech and I saw my baby girl running, full speed to wards me, wearing almost exactly the same outfit as me. I dropped my bag just as she leaped into my arms and hugged me tight.
"Mama, Uncle Rob buyed me a Iron man toy." She yelled excitedly. Waving a miniature Iron man figure in my face.
"Wow honey, I hope you said thank you?" I told her as I smiled at her.
"Yes I did" she nodded.
"Good, now lets go party." I smiled as I heard music begin to play, she nodded and jumped back onto the floor only to grab my hand and drag me onto the dance floor and was danced for about an hour until most of the guests had arrived and I got a text from Liz telling me they were ready.
"OK Parker," I called over to her and she came skipping over to me, pulling Zandaya along behind her. I laughed and shook my head, "Parker, I have a surprise for you. Come on out guys." I called and out came the avengers, they came running out from behind a curtain and on to the dance floor in front of everyone. All her favorite hero's were there: Iron man, Captain America, Thor, Hawk eye, Bruce Banner (because the Hulk was to dangerous to be here), Vision, Black widow and The Scarlett witch, even Loki was there. Each of our actor friends dressed at their characters for Parker. Except for Spider man, he, as I understood, was to be played by Tom's best friend Harrison. I watched as Parker saw the guys and her face light up. She got so excited, she runs straight to Captain America AKA uncle Chris.
"WOW, Captain America and Iron man!" She yelled as She reached them. "What are you doing here?" She asked them as She jumped down and went down the line hugging each of the heroes until she came to a stop at Spider man.
"Who are you?" She asked, standing in front of the man she had come to know as her dad's character. I suddenly felt a little guilty at the sight of Parker, pointing and glaring at poor harry in the Spider man costume.
"I'm Spider man" he spoke, his voice sounded different to what Harrison usually sounded like but I guess he was just trying to sound more like Tom so just left it.
"No you're not" Parker stated.
"I am, I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider man." Harry tried again.
"No you're not, my daddy is Spiderman and my Daddy is working." Parker shouted at him making me laugh a little.
"I promise I am Spider man, see" and he lifted his mask to reveal my boyfriends smiling face. It took her a minute to process but after a few seconds she dove into Tom's arms and hugged him.
"Daddy, you're home." She yelled, I just stood there in shock, Tom hadn't told me he was coming home, I really though Harrison was in the suit. I felt a pair of hand land on my shoulder and I turned to see Harry smiled wickedly at me. I jabbed him and the tummy lightly and turned back to Watch to and Parker hold onto each other for dear life.
"You didn't think I was gonna miss my spiderling's birthday did you?" He asked. picking her feet of the ground and standing up, smiling and waving at everyone around them.
"Tom? What the Hell is going on?" I asked still shocked.
"Hello love, how are you?"Tom asked me putting our daughter on the ground, she kissed his cheek before running of to Mark rufflo who smiled at her as he picked her up.
"How are you here, Tom? You said you were working."
"I may have told you a little fib. I knew if I had told you I was coming home you would have told Parker."
"No I wouldn't, not if you had told me it was a surprise." I argued.
"Ok so you're telling me, when Parker was crying down the phone because she missed me, you wouldn't have made her feel better by telling her she would see me soon?"
"OK, yeah, you made the right call," I nodded, seeing his point.I hated seeing my baby girl cry, it killed me inside. I laughed a little and smiled at Tom who smiled back and held open his arms.
"So are you just gonna stand there or are you going to kiss me." Tom laughed. I smiled back and ran into his waiting arms and kissed him. Everyone around us all busting into applause.
"Guy, my mum is kissing Spiderman." Parker yelled to the other avengers who laughed along with everyone else.
"Ok, why don't we get some family pictures" My mum called we all nodded "we'll start with Parker, Y/N and Tom, then with the avengers added then with grandparents." She instructed.
First Tom and I stood together with Parker in our arms. *Click*
Then came Tom, Parker and I with our parents, Chris H insisted he took the picture. *Click*
Then Parker and the avengers next. The order went Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Renner and Mark Rufflo, then in front of them was RDJ, Scarlett and Paul Bettney then at the very front was Tom, Parker, and Elizabeth. *Click*
"Wait, my mummy needs to take a picture with the avengers too." Parker yelled as she ran to me and pulled me forward.
"She's right, Y/N needs to get in on the avenger love" Jeremy laughed, I smiled and went and sat next to Tom as Parker ran over to my mum who was holding the camera and my dad held my phone taking photos. Tom's mum had his phone and was getting ready to take a photo when Tom called out.
"Wait, before we take the picture I need to asked Y/N something." Tom announce.
"I expect you will be needing this." Elizabeth asked handing Tom a small black box.
"I will, thanks Lizzy." Tom smiled before he dropped down on one knee, smiling up at me. "Y/N We have been together for ten years now and for ten years I have loved you each and everyday and I will love you until the day I die. SO I ask you now if you would do me the honour of being my wife. Y/N will you marry me?" He asked opening the little black box revealing a diamond ring.
"Yes." I laughed, Tom stood, slipped a somewhat large, beautiful ring onto my finger and kissed me as everybody cheered.
"Omg that was so beautiful," Jeremy fake cried earning a smack to the back of the head from "Bruce Banner" and "Loki" at the same time.
"Oh my spiderson is all grown up" RDJ yelled making us all laugh.
"Ok, picture time Mrs Holland." My mum called. I nodded and smiled at the camera but Tom had other Ideas. He turned me to face him and kissed me as he held my hand to show the ring he had slipped onto my finger, while all the other Avengers cheered.
"Best birthday ever!" Parker yelled as she ran at Tom who picked her up. "Daddy, put the mask back on for another picture." She laughed. Tom did as told and pulled the mask on for another picture. This time the photo involved everyone.
After about a billion more photos we all started our own different convocation and soon everybody had started making there way home due to it being almost 8pm and there were a lot of young kids here.
I was talking with Scarlett, Elizabeth and Chris E when my phone started to buzz non stop. I looked to see I had been tagged in two Instagram posts, both from Tom. The first was the photo of Parker and the Avengers with the caption: '@tomholland2013: Surprised my daughter on her birthday with the rest the Avengers. Thank you @Y/N for giving me the greatest gift a guy like me could ask for and thank you for bringing her up at be as smart and amazing as you are. Happy 5th Birthday Parker Elizabeth Holland, my Spiderling princess Super Iron girl (She came up with the awesome nickname, not me) I loves you so much baby girl.'
The second picture was the one of Tom and I kissing, showing off my new bling while The Avengers seem to be fangirling behind us, with the caption: '@tomholland2013: The most amazing thing happened to me today, @Y/N, who is the Lois Lane to my Clark Kent, the Pepper Potts to my Tony Stark, the Harley Quinn to my Joker, the Khaleesi to my Khal Drogo, the Deadpool to my Spider man, the love of my life, has agreed to marry me, that's right, @Y/N will soon be mine forever *evil laugh*. No but for real though, this girl has already given me the most amazing gift in the world, Our daughter and now the mother of my child is to finally become my wife and I am so happy...I love you @Y/N and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Xxxxxxx'
As I read the posts I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and Toms head rested on my shoulder. He was now dressed in normal clothes and had been running around and dancing with Parker and our family so he was a little hot and sweaty.
"Hi," He smiled at me.
"Hey, where's Parker?" I asked him. He pointed over towards a pile of coats on a chair, but upon closer inspection I noticed the pile of coats was in fact my daughter asleep under Tom's jacket on the chairs.
"Honey, why don't you and Tom take Parker home, we can clear this away tomorrow while Parker is with your parents." Lizzy smiled, pointing towards the party decorations. I smiled and nodded and turned to Tom who shrugged back.
"It's probably best I mean our daughter is currently asleep on a chair, that can't be comfortable." I laughed. Tom and I said a quick goodbye to our friends before taking Parker back home to put her to bed.
"We both took a shower and got changed for before climbing in and turning on the tv.
"So, we have choice to tonight. Brooklyn nine nine, Game of thrones or Smallville?" I told Tome as I flicked though the channals.
"Oh, let's watch a bit of Brooklyn Nine Nine, Not seen if for a while and I feel like we need to keep our good mood." Tom smiled taking the remote from my hand and pressing play on the show.
"Believe me, as long as I'm with you, I will never not be in a good mood." I kissed him and snuggled in to his chest at the programs started.
"I love you Mrs Holland." Tom whispered in my ear.
"I love you too Spider man, now shush, Jake peralta is on the TV." I smiled making Tom laugh.
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news-lisaar · 4 years ago
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