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This is the most productive I’ve been in days, here, have the third tdatt inspired moodboard. I read @send-me-your-hcs and @tonystarkisaslut ’s comments on writing a dark au with Arvin Russell and I died. And then Ru (can I call you Ru?) electrocuted me back to life only to stab me in the heart with the stories spun from the word asks. Of course @puppypeter solved a very daunting problem for me and now I’m planning yet another work. The devil all the time has ruined me. (And so have these three above, I now have a longing for sad tom.)


image

I forgot the ship name, just whoosh, gone.

Gracie indirectly led me to one of the names, thanks love.

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Oh, honey 😔 I’m so sorry for your loss. I can absolutely put together a list of fanfiction for you and I hope it helps to soothe your mind a little. My inbox is also always open for whatever you need ❤

To Build A Road (That Leads to Your Heart) | @starkerscoop
Unprofessional 
Velvet Elvis 
Leftovers | @
ironndred
Take Me (Off Speaker) | @starkerisendgame

I tried to keep them sweet and fluffy for you, I hope these help sweet Non. If anyone has any other fluffy, sweet fics to share please don’t hesitate. 

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Second in the line of moodboards inspired my the devil all the time.


image

He helps Gwen wrangle her hair together backstage, fingers quickly snatching wayward strands and taming them with one of the many pins clutched between Peter’s lips. Natasha comes over to them, adjusts the girl’s tutu, raises the stockings while mumbling in russian, pride for her girls clear even in a different language. His sister’s back straightens impossibly, spine curved and he’s very nearly spilling all the pins over the floor because god, he loves watching the dancers work. They were beautiful in big sweaters, worn leggings, beat up flats and half done ponytails, Peter always thought so no matter how many times they teased him about trying to butter the ballerinas up. They were gorgeous 24/7. But when they were preparing to go onstage?

That was ethereal, something only seen in dreams of tucked away childhoods, beauty found exclusively on fairytales. He caught a glance of the divine each time his sister and their friends went to battle. Five seconds left and no, you will stay away from the light, damn you. Peter growls, distantly hears a semi quiet click, ignores it, slams five pins around a particularly demanding curl and Natasha hums when she revises it, fingers gently touching the bun. She whirls around the room without a word but he’s proud. He made something worthy of Romanoff’s approval. The girls are called to stage and Gwen turns, kisses his cheek and off she goes. Peter lurches forward, plants his lips to the taut shoulder blades just as she’s passing the door’s threshold.

His sister doesn’t really believe in luck, more prone to appreciating hard work and determination. But the youngest Parker child preferred to be on the safe side of things, try to ensure success in as many ways as possible. The music outside begins to stir the audience up, announces the arrival of the group and yeah, he’ll never get over seeing Gwen fly through the air. Another click, but this time he inclines his body back towards it and suddenly the world goes white, a fierce bright thanks to a flashing bulb. He topples back on instinct, hands scrambling for purchase, legs caught on a stray tutu, mind dreading the sharp, incoming impact. It never comes.

There’s movement, lightning fast, a hand around his own, body being yanked, back pressed to a broad chest and then the colors slowly appear in spots as he heaves for breath. A chuckle against Peter’s left ear, amusement and perhaps fondness.

“Should’ve figured the brother of the future prima donna was clumsy. The universe being ironic and all that. But I knew beauty ran in the family. I’m afraid we’ve never been introduced, Mr Parker. I’m Tony Stark, main photographer for the company.”

He’s dead. He must be. No human had a voice that smooth, that enchanting and soothing. The guy had to be an angel of some sort because these things didn’t happen to Peter. His life wasn’t exciting enough that a man half a foot taller and several inches wider than him could just wrap him in strong arms and make them stay in an upright spooning position. Curved hips sit right above his ass, there’s a toned stomach pressed against his back and warm air is teasing the curls on his nape. This type of thing, of situation didn’t occur to Peter Parker.

When the world settles down, he licks dry lips and tries to breathe deeply. Only for him to realize both his hands are immobile. One is being clutched by the wrist, that’s the right hand the photographer had tugged on to twirl Peter round and mesh them together, afar from the lights. His left arm is also being held, although that may just be the man forgot to let go after stabilizing him. He’s immobilized but he feels…completely safe here. Slowly, Peter relaxes enough for his mind to drift, exclusively focus on Gwen and musky cologne.

“I’m Peter. Gwen’s brother. But you already knew that, Mr Stark,” great going, Pete, “Any reason we hadn’t met? Then again, Gwen’s the dancer. I’m just, just a cab driver. I’m not beautiful, nothing special.” He’s not embarassed. He’s not, Peter’s very proud of his job, of how good he is. The 60’s weren’t exactly easy to live in, but he’s managed to keep on going and that’s a hell of a lot more than some people got.

Nonetheless, he dips his head down, ashamed because what if he’s diminishing Gwen’s glow by being a driver, by being boring and dull? What if-

“Bullshit, you’re worthy of a set. Most gorgeous person I’ve seen in years and here you are thinking you’re nothing. I’d kill for a chance with you. I love Gwen, she’s amazing, but I’ve been trailing her more just so you can appear in some of the pictures. I wouldn’t do that for nothing, Parker. Oh, that’s a lovely leap.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, it’s only the kindest compliment Peter’s received in a long while, the first one that doesn’t have to do with the speed limit or itchy seats or satisfied customers.

“Well,” it’s like sand paper stuck in his throat, “ you wouldn’t have to kill. If you ask, I’d say I’m free on Saturday. ”

What. Are. You. Doing.

Shit, did he just.

“Kid, I’d love that. We could get coffee, I know a place nearby with great chocolate cake.”

He did.

Gwen will kill him if she/when she finds out Peter asked someone out without her being around to witness it.

He can’t help it that he beams, “I think that’s great, Mr Stark. Definitely better than being here and acting as the seventeenth wheel.”

“Call me by my name, Peter. We’re basically already snuggling, no need for seriousness. Although, I actually didn’t plan on this. No matter what type of crazy goes through my head, it’s never this fast or this crazy.

"And here I thought photographers were the most serious and aloof with their brooding self portraits.”

Tony laughs and Peter grins, happy to feel the rumble up his back and shoulders. Maybe he’ll develop an urge to get some portraits done. Just one or three every month.

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Nurse in training Peter and VIP patient Tony 🩺💓

okay so I looked through my notes app and found this ancient idea from december 2018

🏥 Peter is a nurse in training on the surgical floor at the hospital. His aunt persuaded him to get into the field, and what can one say? Peter did inheret those caring skills and sweet smile that will make him an excellent nurse, just like his aunt. He had other people whispering his ear too, like his family friend Stephen Strange, who’s a neurosurgeon at the same hospital. Stephen and May are quite close, and often work together on cases.

🚑 One day, a VIP patient arrives, and May pulls some strings to get Peter on the case for a real challenge. Peter is excited to take on the task, because a VIP patient will definitely give him bragging rights amongst his fellow nurses in training. But, the excitement is short lived when Peter realises the patient is non other than the man who owns the entire hospital, Mr Tony Stark. If Peter messes up, Mr Stark is the one person who can fire him without consulting anyone else.

💊 Mr Stark is given the best morphine for his pain right away, and is quickly diagnosed with appendicitis. Within a short few hours, he’s in the OR getting his appendix taken out. Peter doesn’t see Mr Stark much at first, but he gets to tend to him as soon as he is out of surgery. In the post OP ward, Peter observes as the senior nurses show him how to take care of a patient coming out of anesthesia. Then, he is left alone to chart the events.

🌡 While charting, Mr Stark starts to come to, and blinks awake with a groan. Peter gives him a smile, and thinks of all the things he’s learned about what to do in this momemt. Kindness and a gentle touch goes a long way. “Hello, Mr Stark. Your surgery went perfectly. You’re just coming out of anesthesia now. Just relax and sleep some more.”

🩹 Mr Stark giggles, and Peter gets a bit nervous at first. He’d never imagine such a high pitched sound coming from a man like Mr Stark. “You’re so… hot.” “Uhm- thank you?” “I could take you- right now. C’mere, give me a smooch. Jus’ a lil’ smooch. I won’ tell the missus, and you won’ tell missussss…” Peter blushes so hard, and tries not to think of how pretty Mr Stark looks like this. He’s a patient, for God’s sake!

🩺 Peter tries to comfort himself with the fact that Mr Stark won’t remember any of this when he comes down from his medicated high. So, he doesn’t tell May, Stephen nor anyone else, about what Mr Stark said in post OP. Next time when Peter is told to check on his VIP patient, hours have passed so Mr Stark will be more or less back to normal now.

💉 “Hi, Mr Stark! How are you feeling?” Peter asks, glancing at the patient’s chart while walking up to his bedside in his private room. “There you are. Are you going to give me that kiss now or what? You left me hanging earlier.” Mr Stark says, all the while eyeing Peter with a knowing look in his eyes. Peter drops the chart and blushes an even darker red than earlier.

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Little space
Sexting
Send nudes

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tony Stark
Word count: 500
Warnings: age regression, daddy kink, sexting

Chap 1   Chap 2

You can thank the anon who sent @the-mad-starker an ask about how there are no fics with little! Tony. I also wrote this while in class

***

Peter’s eyes widened for a second before he got his calm posture back.
“Baby, I don’t have your pacifier in me,” he said, “Why don’t we go back to the hotel, get you changed in something comfortable?”
“Okay” Tony whispered, eyes teary.
He clung to Peter’s hand as they walked back to the hotel, to his displeasure taking over than an hour.

When they finally got back, Tony sat right on the couch, legs crossed and hands resting in his lap.
“Daddy, can I put on my onesie, please?” he looked at Peter with pleading eyes.
“Of course Tones. Do you want your stuffy as well?”
“Yes please”
Peter went to the bedroom, Tony following right behind. The little started pulling on his clothes, wanting to take them off.
“You need any help there, baby?” Peter looked at him with a small smile and loving eyes. The frantic nodding made him walk closer to Tony, helping him undress.
“Thank you” the little whispered and sat on the edge of the bed. He crawled over to the other side of it and took the stuffed red and yellow dragon in his hands, hugging it close to his chest.

Peter took the onesie out of Tony’s suitcase and spread it on the bed. He unbuttoned the front. Tony wiggled in it himself, Peter just buttoning it back up. The little took the pacifier connected to his onesie in his mouth and suckled on it softly. He opened his arms, dragon still held tight in one hand, showing his caregiver he wants cuddles. And what caregiver is Peter if he doesn’t obey? He lied down, back pressed against the headboard. Tony crawled in his arms and curled against his chest. Peter started brushing his fingers through Tony’s hair, knowing it brings him comfort like nothing else, and kissed his forehead.

The day after, Tony had to go out in the city alone. Peter decided to stay in the hotel and just relax. He laid in bed until early noon. With one of Tony’s big shirts on, he walked around the apartment dancing to some music until he got a text. Peter looked at his phone and his face turned red, the blush spreading over his ears and down his chest.
‘I really wanna fuck you into the mattress rn’ the text read.
'Well daddy, if you were here I would’ve let you’ Peter sent back.
'God Peter. Send some nudes?’
'Gimme a minute’
A few minutes later Peter sent a text with a photo attached to it.
'I hope you like it daddy’ *insert photo here*
'Hell yeah I like it. Can you give me more?’
'Mm, okay’ *insert photos here*
'You make me so hard it’s unbelievable’
'Can’t wait for you to come back daddy, so I can help you’
'It’s good that I’m on my way then’
'I’ll be on the bed’

***

@starkerfestivals

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Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen

“I feel like I was being really harsh yesterday,” Peter set his spoon on the table, staring at his bowl of soup forlornly. 

“What did you do?” Tony asked nonchalantly, leaving his own spoon to focus on him. 

Peter looked up. “I know you watched the footage, you don’t have to pretend. I feel like I was too rude to Natasha.” 

“Well,” Tony said slowly, thinking his words over before he continued, “You could apologize, if you want. She never did anything to you; she did it to me, and you don’t have to defend me.” 

“I meant it, though,” Peter bit his lip, “She can’t act like she’s looking out for you when, half the time, she’s working against you.” 

Tony didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get along with her. I’m the one that has a hard time trusting the team nowadays. Like I said, you can make your own friendships. I wouldn’t be upset if you got along with the team.” 

“I don’t want to get along with them,” Peter shook his head, picking up his spoon to dip it into his soup and swirl it around, “I’ve only had a few interactions with them, and I already know I don’t want to be best friends, or anything like that.” 

“You don’t have to be best friends,” Tony pointed out, “But you can get along.” 

Peter sighed deeply, conflicted, “I don’t know. I mean, I feel bad for being mean. That’s just not who I am… but I can’t ignore that they’ve treated you so badly. Even Thor! I used to love Thor, but now I know he choked you and the rest of the team did nothing to stop him. I guess people are right for saying not to meet your heroes.” 

Tony paused, “I should probably be alarmed that you already know so much about my life.”

“I mean,” Peter smiled wryly, “You tend to run out of topics when you’re stuck somewhere with one other person for company. I can tell you about all my trauma, if it’ll make you feel better. Then we’d be even.” 

Tony nudged his foot with a smile, “You can do that wherever you want to. No such thing as being even when it comes to this stuff.” 

Peter nodded, but soon his smile slipped off, “So should I apologize to Natasha?” 

“She’s the one who cornered you,” Tony recalled, frowning, “You’re not completely in the wrong. Bringing up all that stuff, though…maybe you shouldn’t have done that. Or maybe it was justified. I don’t know, honey. This is a bit complicated.” 

Peter nodded, running a stressed hand through his hair, “I’ll think about it some more later. Can we talk about something else?” 

“Of course,” Tony agreed easily, “What do you think about the penthouse in Brooklyn I showed you?” 

“It’s kind of ugly,” Peter admitted, laughing at the offended look on Tony’s face, “I liked the brownstone a lot more.” 

“Don’t you think it’s a little cramped?” Tony wondered. 

Peter shook his head adamantly, “It’s six million dollars, Tony. It’s not cramped. Besides, the places you showed me make me feel like just standing there will get them dirty.” 

“Six million might be a bit low, I don’t know.” Tony scratched his beard as he thought.

“Six million is expensive,” Peter disagreed, “but the prices of the places you picked are enough to make me faint on the spot.” 

“The brownstone does have big bedrooms…” Tony trailed off, half-convinced. 

“The view from the roof is pretty,” Peter added. 

“And there’s a room I can convert into a workshop,” Tony hummed, drumming his fingers on the table, “Alright, I’m sold. Do you want to drive to the city and check it out now?”

Peter swallowed a mouthful of soup and said, “It’ll be late by the time we get there, and we still need to make an appointment with the realtor.” 

“I’ll have FRIDAY set one up for tomorrow,” Tony stood up and placed his empty bowl in the sink, then took a seat next to Peter instead of sitting across from him again, “I’ll need to stop by one of my towers while we’re in the city. I have to talk to Pepper.” 

“I’ll wait for you at a park or something.” Peter smiled, “I can’t believe this is actually happening. We’re really going to have our own home.” 

“It’s happening,” Tony grinned broadly, “You don’t have to wait for me, though, I don’t mind you coming with me.” 

Peter cracked his knuckles mindlessly, and grabbed Tony’s hand to fiddle with it, “I’m not going to intrude on your private conversations. And, uh… I kind of want to be alone for a little bit.” 

“If you’re already sick of me, we probably shouldn’t live together,” Tony teased, but his eyes had always been expressive, and he couldn’t hide his hurt.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Peter said quickly, “I just haven’t been in the city in years, and I kind of want to take it all in by myself, you know?”

Tony nodded, giving him an understanding smile, “No problem, honey. You can take as long as you want, I won’t go anywhere.” 

They left the next morning in one of Tony’s more discreet cars. Peter had dug some snacks out of the kitchen cupboards and dumped them into the backseat, saying defensively that he had a faster metabolism when Tony watched him do so with an amused smile. They drove fast whenever Tony could get away with it, and Peter didn’t do much to stop him, whooping loudly with his hand sticking out of the window. 

They were forced to slow down when they neared the NYC traffic, blending in with all the other cars barely inching forward. Peter didn’t complain about it, preoccupied with staring at his surroundings with teary eyes. The tall buildings were comforting and familiar, even if he wasn’t in his borough. The honking cars, the yellow taxis, the flickering billboards; seeing them felt like coming home. 

Tony laid a hand on his knee, watching him with a gentle worry, “Everything okay?” 

“Everything is amazing,” Peter breathed, wiping at his watery eyes with shaking hands. 

Tony didn’t say anything else, smiling and turning back to face the road until they pulled up in front of the brownstone. 

“This is it,” Tony stepped out of the car, twisting his back to crack the bones and relieve himself of the pent up tension that spending several hours in a car had brought, “Are you ready to go in? The realtor’s already inside and waiting for us.” 

Peter laced his fingers with Tony’s, looking up at the tall building with a boldness he didn’t completely feel, “I’m ready.”

@css1992 @sweetqueen449 @idyllicstarker @hisprimavera @rebel13lion39 @itsmexavie

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Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen

Peter and Tony were rarely seen apart, so when Natasha saw Peter by himself in the communal kitchen, she took her opportunity and pounced. She snatched his wrist, not caring that her nails were digging into his skin, and shoved him into the wall. 

Peter didn’t seem remotely afraid, only glaring at her scathingly, and it aggravated her further.

“Who are you really, and what are your intentions with Tony?” She asked icily. 

“You already know who I am,” Peter shrugged, “And I think it’s obvious what I’m doing with Tony, considering he already told everyone that we’re dating. Aren’t you supposed to be a good spy?” 

Natasha ignored the remark and pushed her nails in deeper, “Tony doesn’t date. He has sex, he leaves, and the cycle starts over. So, I’ll rephrase  – what are you planning on doing to Tony?” 

“Nothing,” Peter simpered, “Maybe I’ll top tonight, but other than that, I don’t have any plans coming up.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking,” Natasha hissed, doing her best to keep her composure, “I want to know if you’re going to stab him in the back.” 

Peter looked her over, unimpressed, “What, like you did?” 

“I do what I need to do to keep the team together,” Natasha defended. 

“Right, right,” Peter nodded, a malicious smile stretching his face, “So, lying about his parents’ deaths, changing sides in the middle of battle, injecting his neck without permission; was all of that for the betterment of the team, or for the betterment of you?” 

Natasha scowled, her eyes darkening more and more with each second, “You weren’t here, you don’t know what went down. And I don’t need to explain myself to you.” 

“But you’re doing it anyway,” Peter cocked his head, “You did all of that to get rid of your guilt. You were never doing it for the team – not at first, anyway –  and especially not for the world.” 

“You don’t know anything,” Natasha repeated.

“Maybe not,” Peter gave her a hard stare, “I just listened to Tony and came to my own conclusions. This entire team is shitty, and honestly, Tony would be better off working solo again.” 

Natasha hummed in satisfaction, “So your plan is to get Iron Man off the team. Without him, the team would lose its banking and a lot of power. Smart, but I’m not letting you do that.” 

“I never said I was going to make him do that,” Peter rolled his eyes, “Tony is his own person, though I understand that you’re used to manipulating him, so maybe you don’t get that. If he wants to keep working with assholes, then he’ll keep working with assholes.” 

“You’re not scared of me,” Natasha noted, still searching him for any signs of fear, “Why?” 

Peter shoved her off of him and stepped away from the wall. “At this point, I’ve seen worse than you.” 

Natasha watched him stalk out of the kitchen and enter one of the halls. She straightened her shirt where it got wrinkled from the push, and went the opposite way. She followed the faint sounds of laughter coming from the communal living room, in which her teammates were hanging out and watching tv.

She stood in the doorway until they noticed her, waving her over and adding her into their conversations. 

“Is something wrong, Nat?” Steve stared up at her from the couch, brows furrowing in concern. 

Natasha brushed off the question, “What do you guys think about Tony’s new fling?” 

“Boyfriend,” Clint corrected. 

“And since when does Tony date?” Natasha challenged. 

“Since Pepper…?” Clint watched her weirdly, “You know that. What’s the actual issue here?” 

“I have a confession from Parker,” Natasha said coolly, “He wants Iron Man off the team.” 

“Then we tell Stark, and the problem is solved,” Sam shrugged, “No big deal.”

“Except it might be,” Steve looked worried, “Do you think Tony told him any secrets? He could tell them to anyone.” 

“So, who volunteers to talk to Stark?” Sam sat up. 

“Tony and I used to be close,” Steve assured them. “He’ll listen to me.” 

Clint eyed them all doubtfully, but remained seated as Steve left the room. The rest of the group went back to their conversations, not paying any mind to Clint’s silence. 

Steve got into the elevator and cleared his throat before saying, “FRIDAY, take me to Tony.” 

“You are not authorized to enter the suite.” FRIDAY said bluntly.

“It’s urgent,” Steve insisted, “I need to see him.” 

FRIDAY wasn’t moved, “Mr. Stark has a secretary you can speak to if you’d like to schedule an appointment.” 

“God, he’s infuriating,” Steve muttered, rubbing his face, “FRIDAY, it’s about the team.” 

FRIDAY remained quiet for a moment, “You are not authorized to enter the suite. I will let him know that you would like to confer with him.” 

And then, “Boss asks you to ‘kindly fuck off’, as he is spending time with his partner.” 

Steve grouched, “That’s all he does nowadays. Tell him it’s a life or death situation, then.” 

After a minute, the elevator started moving up at a snail’s pace, until finally, it reached Tony’s floor and opened its doors. 

Steve wasn’t sure if he was more confused or unsurprised to see Peter and Tony snuggling on the couch. On one hand, Tony had never seemed to enjoy physical contact, keeping his touches minimal and short with others. On the other, he’d been all over Peter the day they arrived at the compound. 

Maybe he was just short with the team. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. 

“What, Rogers?” Tony sighed dramatically, earning a small giggle from Peter. 

Steve wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. “You need to break up with Peter.” 

Tony and Peter glanced at each other, as if to confirm what they’d just heard. Tony shifted his body to trap Peter between him and the couch; likely to keep him safe from Steve, who was offended at the action. 

“And why would I do that?” Tony finally asked.

“He wants Iron Man off the team,” Steve glared accusingly at Peter. 

Tony cooed, turning to press a kiss to Peter’s forehead, “Baby, you have the best ideas.” 

“What?” Steve spluttered, “You can’t leave.” 

“It’s a good idea, so I’m glad you brought it up, Rogers,” Tony sounded pleased, “I’m moving out of the compound anyway, so it’ll be nice to not have to go upstate all the time.”

“You’re leaving,” Steve said sullenly, “Why would you do that?” 

“I have a life outside of the Avengers,” Tony said simply, “I have SI to focus on, and a boyfriend that needs my attention.” 

Steve’s throat tightened at the last sentence, and he watched Peter warily as he asked, “Tony, is he making you do this? If you’re being threatened, I can help you.” 

Tony’s jaw dropped, “Do you know how crazy you sound right now? Look, I appreciate it, but you’re the last person I’d ever go to for help. My life is as perfect as it can be right now. There’s nothing for you to help with.” 

“Who will fund the team if you leave?” Steve asked desperately, trying to make him see reason. 

“When I leave,” Tony corrected, “the government will fund you. Why would I pay for everything, anyway? It doesn’t make sense for everything to come out of my pocket. Having money doesn’t mean I’m obligated to share it with everyone.”

“Tony,” Steve scolded, astonished, “that’s selfish.” 

“Then call me selfish,” Tony switched on the tv, dismissing him easily, “Let the door hit you on the way out.” 

Steve stuck around for a few minutes, but neither man was acknowledging him, so he grunted and left the room, shaking his head in annoyance. 

“Did you really tell them you want me off the team?” Tony peered at Peter curiously. 

“No,” Peter shook his head, “I said you’d be better off working solo again, because they’re all assholes. I didn’t say anything about making you leave.”

Tony pulled Peter’s legs onto his lap, rubbing his knees subconsciously as he asked, “You’re happy I’m leaving, though, right? I know I didn’t check in with you first.” 

“I’m very happy,” Peter confirmed, smiling, “but you don’t have to check in with me about things like that. You’re the one being affected here, and your decisions are for you to make.” 

Tony relaxed, “Sorry, it’s just – Pepper would always get upset if I made any big decisions without talking to her beforehand.” 

“You don’t need to do that with me,” Peter assured him. 

“I think I’m starting to get that.”

*

@css1992 @idyllicstarker @sweetqueen449 @hisprimavera @rebel13lion39

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