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Requested: @the-radio-star

Tony had his secret weapon, but so did Steve. Little did they know, their secret weapons were in the same math class, shared English notes, ran the mile next to one another in gym at the back of the class. They had no idea you and Peter were best friends, had been for years now, practically growing up with another. Now, though, you stood on opposing sides. You didn’t want to believe it, nor did you want to fight with him. You didn’t want any of this to be happening. Peter merely stared at you, as shocked as you were, neither of you sharing your plans to join the Avengers within their fight. You’d even fought petty crimes together, walking old ladies across the streets, saving kittens from trees. Now you were up against one another, instructed to defeat your best friend … .

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study date | peter parker blurb

warnings: fluffffff cuz that’s all i can do lol + school sucks

a/n: i wanna write more than i do, but some things just can’t be made into a 3k+ word fic so i’ve decided to write blurbs. this way i can keep writing and be more active. please enjoy!!!! and send in any requests for my boys:):):)

‎⎊ ‎⎊ ‎⎊ ‎⎊

school is so stressful and hard. and it doesn’t help that Midtown High School is full of a bunch of geniuses, including your boyfriend.

one night, you’re sitting on your bed with peter and having a little study date. you’re trying so hard to understand your AP Statistics homework, but nothing is helping and somehow you’re more confused than ever.

you groan and throw your pencil down. then you bring your knees up to your chest and hide your face in them.

“what’s wrong?” peter asks.

“i’m gonna fail this class,” you mutter.


you don’t say anything. peter scoots in front of you and move your legs, but you keep your head down.

“talk to me, beautiful.”

you sniffle and squeak, “i don’t understand it. i keep failing the tests no matter how hard i study, and i just—”

peter tilts your chin up and rests his hands on your cheeks. tears slowly fall down your face and he wipes them away.

“why are you crying?”

“i feel like the dumbest person in school and i’m so frustrated. and it doesn’t help that i’m dating the smartest person in Queens.”

“you’re not dumb, y/n. you’re smarter than i am. i mean like, look at all the classes you’re taking.”

“peter, you’re literally a genius. i’m barely passing my classes. i’m in idiot compared to you.”

“hey, that’s not true, babe. you’re the smartest person i know.”

you pout. “but you know tony stark.”

“you’re even smarter than tony stark.”

a smile breaks out on your face and you can’t help but giggle.

“there you go. there’s that beautiful smile.”

“only because that was so ridiculous, i had to laugh.”

“i’ll take it.” peter smiles. then he kisses your cheek and rests his head on your shoulder. “show me the problem, maybe i can help.”

“but you never took AP Statistics.”

“i know, but maybe when i look stupid, it will make you feel a little bit better about yourself.”

you smirk. “it would, actually, yeah.”

he laughs and kisses your cheek again. “or we could take a break and you can get help from your teacher tomorrow.”

you immediately close your laptop and your textbooks. “i like that idea better.”

peter practically tackles you onto the bed. the two of you burst into laughter, homework long forgotten.

he hovers over you and kisses your cheek for the third time.

“why do you keep kissing me?” you giggle.

his cheeks turn red. “i’m trying to make you feel better.”

you smile. “awww, peter!” you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him against you.

“do you feel better?”

“yes, much better. thank you, baby.”

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Stephen: *on the phone with Tony* hello?
Tony: hey, what鈥檚 up?
Stephen, over an ominous crashing in the background: I need help with Peter and Harley. I gave them coffee and cake and now they're really hyper. Can you come over here?
Tony: Uh, I can鈥檛, I鈥檓 buying clothes
Stephen, over the deafening sound of TV static, satanic chanting, and bird calls: Alright, well hurry up and get over here
Tony: I can鈥檛 find them
Stephen, as the bathbomb flood behind him spills out from the bathroom into the kitchen: What do you mean you can鈥檛 find them?
Tony: I can鈥檛 find them, there鈥檚 only soup
Stephen, covered in Christmas lights with a strainer on his head as Peter and Harley circle him like vultures: What do you mean there鈥檚 only soup?
Tony: It means there鈥檚 only soup
Stephen, surrounded by fifteen pounds of french fries and ten crying doordash delivery men who don't have the ketchup: Well then get out of the soup aisle!
Tony: Alright! You don鈥檛 have to shout at me! *pause* There鈥檚 more soup!
Stephen, with the fire alarm blaring in the background as the printer shoots ink and blow darts at the ceiling: What do you mean there鈥檚 more soup???
Tony: There鈥檚 just more soup!
Stephen, hiding in the flooded bathroom, barricading the door with a wrench and clutching a baseball bat as Harley and Peter cackle ominously and scuttle across the ceiling: Go into the next aisle!
Stephen, in the flooded bathtub, covered in soap, thumbtacks, and on fire, summoning magical shields: WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW?
Tony: I鈥橫 AT SOUP!
Stephen, crying as Harley and Peter break down the door and release a swarm of live hawks and penguins into the bathroom: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU鈥橰E AT SOUP?!
Stephen, frantically creating a portal into the Sahara desert to escape the hawks and penguins: WHAT STORE ARE YOU IN?
Stephen, burrowing into the desert sand like an owl to escape the chaos children who are pouring dry ice and pop rocks into the bathtub by the pound to create small, non-lethal explosions: WHY ARE YOU BUYING CLOTHES AT THE SOUP STORE?!?!?!
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Mr. Harrington: ok class here is our randomly generated writing prompt [pulls out a piece of paper] “Write about the time you smiled this month”

Flash: [raise hand] Mr. Harrington, I haven’t really smiled since the snap, can I be exempt?

Mr. Harrington: uhhh let me try again [pulls out another piece of paper] “give some good advice to your past self”

MJ: I’d probably tell her to skip all of junior-sophomore year, she’s going to repeat it anyways after she comes back from the dust.

Mr. Harrington: ugggggghhhhhh- let me try this one last time [pulls out a piece of paper] “write about a time you had a near death eXPERIENCE-” NOPE! I give! I’m out! Peace!

Peter: oh damn, the one paper I actually know how to write.

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It’s been over a year since Civil War, and Tony is still having a hard time. He simply can’t reach out, can’t get over the sinking feeling in his stomach. It takes the kindness of a young Peter Parker to remind him that things are okay, that they can get better some day.

Read it on AO3.

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“Peter!” You screamed, falling through the glass, your skin being torn open by the sharp shards. He turned, ready to grab you with his web, but you were already gone. Your cries still wrung through him, making his stomach flip. The glass disappeared, the blood too. Far away you layed on the ground, your leg bent, your eyes wide. You weren’t answering him when he cried out to you. He tried to run, but the ground melted beneath him like quicksand.

“Are you really that naive?” Quentin’s voice laughed overhead, echoing through the nothing. The ground clawed at him, pulling him under, but all he could see was you, your open eyes looking back at him. “I thought you were smarter than this, kid. And yet, here you are, crying over some crush. Pathetic.” He was getting angrier, the illusions would get more violent. Peter wasn’t sure he could handle it. You disintegrated, a flame bursting inside you, burning you from the inside out. He knew it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, but it hurt just the same to see it. It tore him apart…

“Please stop!”

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