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#peter parker canon
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peter and reader literally js making out and being adorable !
i kinda got carried away w this one so it’s a little bit ✨spicier✨ than intended-
!!! 18+ (MDI) !!!
content warnings — a really steamy make–out with Peter, sexual content, teasing.
✨masterlist✨.
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1.2k.
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The emptiness of Peter’s apartment carried his voice through the echoes, making the space feel that much bigger as you sunk into his couch. His Aunt May had gone out with some friends for the evening, making some suggesting jokes and comments that made you and Peter blush, even long after she’d left.
All the lights were off in the apartment, excluding the lamp behind Peter’s closed bedroom door, and the colorful glow of the television seated in front of you. You and your boyfriend were cuddled on his couch, entranced by George Lucas’s galactic storytelling. Your head had previously been resting on his shoulder, but due to Peter’s current geeky–tangent, you sat up to listen to him better.
“He used to make lightsaber sounds when they were practicing, and he’d have no idea.” Peter was quite expressive when he explained little Star–Wars facts to you. There was something about the way his eyes lit up, and he’d use his arms to guide the sentence.
You bit the inside of your cheek, hiding your amusement as best as possible whilst you listened. Your entire focus was set to him, but the passion he had for these movies never ceased to entertain you. The two of you had been dating for roughly five months, and from the little mental list you were creating of your favorite Peter things, these conversations were one of your top picks.
Peter’s eyes kept flickering back and forth from you to the movie screen, glowing happily as he went on with his vent about Revenge of the Sith, more importantly, Ewan McGregor. “He had been so used to making the effects when he was younger, that when they’d film their battle scenes, Ewan made the sound effects out of habit.”
As much as you had been paying attention to his words, your thread of thought was more occupied with the enthusiasm laced in his voice. The timid dimples that threatened to say hello in the midst of his smile, the ecstatic gesture of his hands, and the glistening tint of excitement that strung within your eye contact. You’d been so entranced by his little geek–out, you almost forgot to respond.
Your grin grew a little, despite every Star–Wars related response fleeting from your brain. You let the first thought you could muster slip through your lips. “You’re adorable.” You probably could’ve given a more thorough and engaged response, but seeing the red that flooded Peter’s expression made it all the more worth it.
Peter looked at you for a moment, completely flustered. He was off guard at the fact that ‘you’re adorable’ was your only response to his Star–Wars tangent. His lips parted a few times to speak, but his words failed every time. “Shut up..”
Carefully, you slid yourself closer to him beneath your shared throw blanket, looking up at him. Your head shook in response as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “No.” You replied between kisses, placing a few more across his face. “I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are...” Sooner than later, your lips found their way to his, connecting in such a sickly sweet way.
The kiss you shared seemed to ease the nerves that accompanied the blush on his face. You could feel the warmth of his fingers trace your upper thighs, pulling one across his legs so you could straddle his lap. You loved the feeling of your lips piecing together; the upper, then the lower, and the way your bodies fit together just as perfectly. It was intoxicating.
“I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are..” Peter spoke, breathless between your kisses. His voice hummed lower than before, rasping in the back of his throat. Even though he’d just been particularly focused on the movie, his mind now went to other places. Just the thought of your intimacy, mixed with the way his hands kneaded the plush of your hips, sent a thrilling sensation straight down to your lower stomach.
Eyes shut, you were the one to first part from the kiss. “But we’re talking about you, Peter.” You lulled, feeling the way his lips chased after yours to stall your argument. You tucked your head away from his, your left thumb pressing itself on his lips as a barrier. You took the opportunity to cradle his face with your right hand in the process.
Your eyes slowly opened to meet Peter’s, fighting a smirk at how desperately he looked at you. You stared at him through your lashes, keeping your face irresistibly close to his. “I’m not going to kiss you until you take the compliment..” You teased, speaking barely above a whisper. You trusted him enough to remove your thumb, not even a little surprised by how eager he was to kiss you again.
It was easy to dodge him, and delectable to feel the light brushing of lips on yours; the urgency and impatience in his breath fanned against your parted lips, driving you just about as crazy as it drove him. The power you held was ravishing. Tension was quick to build between the two of you, binding both of you that much closer together. It took every bone in your body to fight the urge and cave to his need for you. His head craned in closer, doing everything he could to press his lonesome lips back to yours.
Peter tried to find a loophole. His hands grasping at your ass, his lips trailed and teased at your jawline when you’d dodge him. He found it infuriating, but also just as enjoyable. “Fine...” He huffed, smirking lightly. “Thank you.” Peter met your lips hungrily when you kissed him again, as though he’d been deprived of your embrace for years.
The kiss was much rougher than before, fueling the growing need for friction between your thighs. You rocked your hips against his, pressing the ache in your core to his growing erection. A heavy breath caught in your throat, lips parting further at the pressure. It was easy to let the world around you melt away, getting lost in Peter’s touch as his fingers tugged on your hair, and traveled under the thin fabric of your shirt.
Just like that, the jingle of May’s keys fumbling at the door tied you back to the crisp presence of reality. You flew off your boyfriend’s lap, seating yourself beside him like you had been moments prior. Swift movements brought a pillow to hide Peter’s arousal, and just like that, it looked like you two were merely watching a movie together. Well, minus the matching red hues on your cheeks.
May hummed a tune quietly to herself, mirroring the smile you sent her as she walked into the dark apartment. “The girls and I are heading to Jenny’s for the night, but I wanted to grab my Hennessy.” She chimed, strutting into the kitchen like she’d be out in a jiffy. Her attention got caught on the television for a moment, her smiling growing. “Oh! Pete, you found it!” May glanced at you, “Did he tell you that he spent all afternoon looking for his collectors DVD? He was really looking forward to showing it to you.”
You watched the way Peter’s head hit the back of the couch, pressing his palms into his face to try and mask his embarrassment. “May, stop!” He whined, sustaining out the words to emphasize just how flustered he got. His words were muffled through his hands, but you still couldn’t help but find it adorable. He was just too cute. You just had to let the giggles slip through your lips.
Yep, no doubt about it; Peter’s geeky Star–Wars obsession was definitely one of your favorite things about him. That, and your steamy make–out sessions.
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dawndauce · 3 months
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emichevy · 10 months
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NOIR HEAD CANONS PART 3 ISH??
I can’t stop drawing these help me I promise I’ll make something different with the others HABSGGA
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I... Cannot stop
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ikarakie · 10 months
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one thing you learn living in new york: you literally never know what's going to happen the next day. it's become a general rule of thumb to expect the unexpected, so to speak.
despite this, when the avengers get reports of iron man flying in circles over queens, growing more frantic by the second, they're confused. mainly because they're currently sat at a table with tony stark himself. and, according to his ai, the suit that's out causing mayhem is still securely stored downstairs.
they all head out to see what the hell is going on. they meet with strange on the way, who mutters something about inter-dimensional disturbances and whatnot.
spider-man gets to the scene just before them. the second iron man visibly freezes when he spots him in his red and blue glory. "mr. stark?" they hear him ask. they see as he turns and spots them, and then does a double take. "what's going on?"
"underoos!" real tony calls, nervous, at the same time as the other one spots them, and then lurches forward to all but manhandle peter behind him.
the avengers all tense, readying for a fight. fake tony raises a repulsor. "i just want the kid. i don't want to fight."
"you don't belong here." strange says, infuriatingly calm. "i don't know how you got here, but you need to go home." fake tony nods. strange adds, "you can't take him with you." which earns him a rather mean blast. luckily, he ducks out of the way.
the poor kid is whipping his head back and forth, clearly confused. tony's stomach twists unhappily. "you don't understand," fake tony hisses, "all the work it took to get here. i'm not going home without him."
"you have to." strange takes a step forward, "you can't transport him between universes. it's not viable." the lenses on peter's suit widen, and he looks at the fake tony.
"he's from another universe?" steve asks, disbelieving. strange nods, and opens his mouth to say something more, but is cut off by the other-universe tony. he removes his faceplate, revealing a tony stark that is far more haggard than anyone had ever seen before. he's thinner, his eyes are darker, pleading. he looks like a man who's lost everything.
tony looks to peter, who's still staring, wide-eyed. he can see the gears in his head moving but can't decipher why.
"you dimension hopped to kidnap the kid?" tony asks, a little unfocused. the kid was in danger, and it was all he could think about. "why?" peter turns to him, then back to tony number two. he gasps as something apparently clicks in his brain.
he steps forwards, rounds the other-universe tony and stands in front of him. he instantly lowers the repulsor. "because i'm dead." peter says, confidently.
everyone pauses. they look at the spider like he's gone insane, because he clearly isn't dead, not anymore, at least. but other-universe tony looks like he's had the wind knocked out of him. "pete-"
peter deactivates his mask. "right?" he asks. other-universe tony frantically looks over his face.
"it's my fault." he says, softly. "i'm so sorry. i'm sorry, pete. i'm-"
"come out of the suit."
other-universe tony pauses. "what?"
"come out here, please." peter asks again. other-universe tony does as he asks, stumbling out and immediately into the open and waiting arms of the baby spider. it seems to break him, the embrace; all at once he loses any trace of intimdation and anger and sobs, curling around the boy as much as he can. peter seems unphased, unlike the other heroes, and shushes him. "it's okay, mr. stark. it's not your fault," he murmurs soothingly, only reaching their ears due to the intercom on his suit. "it was never your fault. i chose this, i chose to come up there. i didn't regret it for a second."
other-universe tony heaves. "i was supposed to protect you. i failed. i failed and you're gone and you were so scared and i couldn't do anything-"
"you're wrong," peter soothes, and it's a weird image. the child comforting the adult. "if he was anything like me, then-" for a second, his eyes cut back to this-universe tony. "then he was glad you were there when he was dying. you made him feel safer. it would've been so much worse without you."
and then it all clicks for tony. this was a version of him from a world post-snap, who'd watched a kid he considered his own fade to dust in his arms. who sat in his own guilt, and shame, and loneliness. he knew the feeling all too well, and this tony had crossed dimensions to try and get his kid back in any way possible.
if it were for anyone but peter parker, this tony would've said it was a little dramatic.
he's sent home eventually, the other tony, after some more comforts and a not so subtle hint as to how they got everyone back after the snap, much to strange's dismay. later, real tony sits in the lab, watching peter from across a table, and he asks, "how'd you figure it out?"
"figure what out, mr. stark?"
"why that other me was here." peters looks up from whatever he's tinkering with. frowns.
"well, you invented time travel to get me back," he says. "why would you stop before dimension travel? it just made the most sense." tony has half a mind to argue, but one look at his lab: a midtown high hoodie draped over the back of a chair, a teenager's backpack in the corner, a seperated table with it's own organisational pattern and piles of blueprints, a report card pinned to a board, and a spiderman charm hanging from dum-e, he figures the kid is right.
"yeah, well, i love you a little too damn much then, don't i?" he doesn't think about the words before he says them. he's felt it for so long it feels like a second instinct.
luckily he gets no time to panic. because peter immediately lights up, says, "i love you too." and gets back to work.
damn kid.
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nocek · 4 months
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dads' day out ;)
wip is here but final comic version will be a bit different because "plot" reasons ;) (if you even can call my comics a story XD)
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fiepige · 3 months
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Noir and Hobie doing swirly hand gestures
(Part two of me desperately trying to make Noirpunk GIFs 😭 Part one is HERE)
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mustasekittens · 5 months
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power puff girls
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theshadowrealmitself · 11 months
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Making myself laugh at an au where it’s Peter Parker, became a vigilante at age 10, has been one for like 16 years now, so 26 years old max. and still, inexplicably, has his identity a complete secret, and so his file with SHIELD, if they knew him, should have stuff about him having spider abilities and a healing factor and a spider sense that helps him sense danger even without seeing it, etc
And so Spiderman thinks that his file, because they don’t know anything, just looks like a ton of question marks
But instead, it’s full of their observations that they’re 100% sure are correct based on misunderstandings and misconceptions, and that file just keeps leading to wild rumors, which end up just hiding Spiderman’s identity better, so the file’s like:
Spiderman must be about 50+, clearly knows how to fight, knows First Aid, has trouble working with others, knows military lingo (he figured it out as a kid due to various vigilante situations that put him near them), is clearly trained (they mostly think this because of the experience he picked up and because of his spidey sense), is a genius super scientist who makes his own equipment (this parts true but they don’t know he’s been mutated, they think it’s all equipment), etc
So they’re all like, obviously, Spiderman used to work for SHIELD or something (maybe there’s a rumor or they did actually used to use a weaker version of the soldier serum on agents, so they all think at most Spidey has weak super strength), definitely a government scientist at the very least, went on the run as lone wolf soldier after he witnessed some corruption*, maybe the government even killed off his family when he refused to do something corrupt, and now he wears bright clothes because he’s sick of working in the shadows, etc
(*misunderstanding based on the fact that one of the reasons why Spidey refuses to join SHIELD is because of how often it gets revealed that Hydra infiltrated it but then it gets covered up, and it’s getting covered up because they don’t want citizens to lose faith in SHIELD, like I have no doubts every single time Nick Fury is going out there and getting rid of them all, but to outsiders it just looks like SHIELD refuses to take accountability and is covering it up because they’re still there, and Peter’s Jewish ass can’t take any chances with that)
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periwinkle-the-11th · 7 months
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Peter 'enhanced spider senses' Parker: *gestures to a sign 10 feet from them* "yeah its just up there"
Harley 'horrible vision, no glasses' Keener: "You can read that??"
Peter 'had horrible vison before the bite, has no idea what the human range of vision should be' Parker: "ummm, kind of?"
Harley 'desperately needs glasses' Keener: "Really? Its all just a huge blur for me"
Peter 'fuck fuck fuck is this a spider thing?' Parker: "Yeah! i just have, really good eyes? I mean like its a bit blurry but not to much you know?"
Harley 'cannot read anything more than 3 feet from him' Keener: "huh, maybe I do need glasses."
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Hi elle! I was wondering if you could do some angst in where reader is tony's daughter but shes the forgotten one and tony shows a lot of affection to peter and one day she just loses it. Its ok if you don't want to.
Stay safe and drink water!
i’ve never felt so motivated to write something–
content warnings (18+) — immense swearing, mentions of insecurity and negative outlook, yelling, author possibly projecting?, maybe too many italicized words/phrases.
✨masterlist✨.
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3.5k.
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You knew your dad loved you. He had to. He said it to you a million times before, and made it a point to remind you of it once a day. However, there were moments nowadays where you began to question it. You didn’t really question whether he loved you or not, but rather, whether he loved Peter Parker more than you.
Tony had referred to Peter as the son he’d never had. He’d taken Peter on retreats and to expos when he hadn’t taken you out on a trip since you were nine years old. He’d bought things for Peter, and fixed things for Peter, and every meme or video or cat picture you found on the internet to show to your father would automatically get the response: “send that to me, i want to show it to Peter.”
Peter this and Peter that. It sent you into a spiral of insecurity that you’d never known existed. You truly felt like Tony was trying to tell you something subliminally. You tried to drown yourself in coursework, go to engineering camps, and help out with the Avengers just to try and gain a better understanding of their bond. Of what you lacked. Nothing seemed to help. It jabbed at your feelings like a knife to the back, presumably left by Peter Parker himself.
And the worst part? You’d never even met the guy. You’d never been introduced to Peter Parker, despite how many times Tony mentioned the fact that he’d “love for you two to meet,” and “you two would get along great.” Yeah, sure. And he’s probably some gross ass dude with an untamed beard in his mid–twenties that your father took pity on. So much pity, in fact, that he’d invited Peter to stay over for the weekend in your penthouse apartment.
Fantastic.
It was such a sudden proposition, and a last second invite, but it happened. And Tony insisted, despite every protest you attempted to give, that you’d both greet him in the lobby.
So when you were face to face with a surprisingly attractive boy your age who had the deepest brown eyes you’d ever seen and barely packed a duffel bag, you were thrown off your rocker. You hardly had the composure to speak. Thus, your father did for you, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him smile before.
He was barely showing teeth, but you hadn’t seen your father this excited about something in a while. “Kid, this is my daughter, Y/N.” He stated proudly, grasping Peter’s shoulder as he started introductions. “And sweetheart,” Tony addressed you, turning his full focus to you as he gave Peter’s introduction. “This is Peter Parker.”
There was something about him that caused for you to detest him. It wasn’t seen on his clothes, or in his eyes. It wasn’t dangling in the tension between you, or whispered through his silent stares, but it was there. Perhaps, it came from the depths of your subconscious, and the land of your imagination. You shoved that proposition deeper into your subconscious, too.
Because you were certain that you had a hatred for Peter Parker, and his little staycation with the Stark’s would prove it.
The first night was fine. Your dad didn’t make you do any activities together, thank God, but he did surprise you with the news that he had to leave the next morning for a last second Avengers emergency. He didn’t know when he’d be back, but Tony assigned you and Peter with the task of rewiring a circuit board in his lab before he returned.
Being the daughter of Tony Stark, you’d taken the initiative to finish the project yourself. It was your house, anyways. It was a request that your father had made to you, so you intended to do it. You just hated the fact that Peter persisted in being with you in the room while you finished it. You hated the silence he left in the room, and the way he kept checking over your shoulder. God, you just hated him. You were sure of it.
You could feel his presence watching over your hands as they worked. You could feel the weight of his judgment, his breath catching in hesitation. You could smell the fumes of his cologne, and the aroma of his hair products. It was infuriating. It was pressuring. It felt mocking, taunting.
He stepped closer, hands reaching over to where yours were tinkering, yet they didn’t dare to touch your project. “A–actually, you should move the circuit focus closer to the–”
The audacity he had to question you. The nerve he struck with his comment, it filled you with rage.
Wrench and wire were thrown to the table, clanking and clamoring as they caved to gravity’s pull. Their sound was the only thing keeping you and Peter from shared silence. The shared silence of your anger. You turned your head to look at him, hoping that you weren’t physically exhaling flames like you imagined you were.
“Can you just.. not?” The question almost came out as a laugh. You nearly laughed, in disbelief that Peter Parker thought he had any say in how you built a robotic contraption. “Can you just fucking not?”
Walls had been building up inside you, livid and rageful feelings clouding your judgment as you glared at him. You couldn’t see just how shocked he was, thrown off at your irritation. You couldn’t see how puzzled he was, or panicked that he’d done something to upset you so much. You just stared into the eyes of what felt like your replacement. You felt empty, worthless, as your figure reflected back at you through the glistening of his eyes.
“Can I not what? Did I– Did I upset you?” Just the sound of his voice crawled beneath your skin. It felt worse than the sleek of humidity, or nails on a chalkboard. It sounded teasing, coy.
It was the final straw.
Nails dug into your palm as your hands formed fists. One fist pressed to your forehead, almost speaking as a warning to tell you to keep composure, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t fucking stand it anymore. “Can you stop being so fucking perfect all the time?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.
There were several things that you’d been wanting to say to Peter Parker. You’d wanted to tell him off for a long time, but you’d never gotten the chance. Now, you’d given yourself the opportunity to let the floodgates open and your tongue run wild.
“You’re always making shit competitive and iT’S NOT OKAY. It’s not my fault that my own father loves yOU MORE THAN ME! Doesn’t mean you have to fucking rub it in my face every gODDAMN FUCKING HOUR!!” God, this felt good. “You can just do my job for me!! Fucking move into my rOOM at this point, Tony won’t know the difference!!” You scoffed, “In fact, he’d probably be tHRILLED that you FINALLY REPLACED ME!!”
Peter Parker blinked a few times at you. His mouth hung agape, too scared to say anything and interrupt what looked like things you had been needing to say. The look infuriated you.
“Build the circuit board by your goddamn fucking self and leave me the fuck alone!!” And as you made the final statement, you turned to make your leave. The subtle breeze caught your face, and you felt the air hit your cheeks cold; you hadn’t noticed that you’d started crying.
You also hadn’t noticed the fact that your dad entered the room. You froze dead in your tracks at the sight of him, tears brimming your eyes again when you saw how upset he looked.
Shit.
It wasn’t your intention for him to hear all of that, but you couldn’t take back the truth once it’d gotten out. You took a staggered breath, choking back a sob as you rushed out. You didn’t know which hurt more: to hear your father’s footsteps tread further from you, or to hear him ask Peter about what was happening rather than you directly.
Either way, it was an added punch right to the gut.
It felt like ten minutes of sobbing in your room went by before a knock was placed on your door. You were about to answer, but you weren’t given the chance; your father opened the door as soon as he’d placed the knock, a solemn look coating his face as he looked at you from the doorframe. It was a solemn look that resembled disappointment.
He was disappointed in you.
Your dad was disappointed that you’d blown a fuse in front of your house guest. Disappointed that you’d ruined your chance at a good first impression. Disappointed that you’d shown such weakness. He was disappointed that you didn’t meet his expectations. He was disappointed in you for not making his honorary son feel more welcomed. Your father was disappointed in you for fucking it all up. You could tell.
Tony took careful steps towards your bed, sitting next to you as you stifled your sobs down a bit. “Do.. You want to talk about what happened back there?” His tone was softer than you’d anticipated for someone who was disappointed in you. It almost sounded apologetic, sympathetic; you were certain that your mind was reaching for a false reality.
A sniffle caught your breath as you looked at him, fresh tears framing your face. “How much of that did you hear?” You were almost too scared to ask, but you needed to know. You had to know which bit of air to clear first.
“All of it.” Tony started, “From the part where you asked Peter not to be so fucking perfect all the time..” His tone got a little sharper, almost witty. It sounded like he was trying to make humor of your meltdown. As though he were trying to find a way to cheer you up, or tell you to grow up and get over yourself. You couldn’t tell.
You averted eye contact for a moment, trying not to blow up again. Luckily, most of the anger in your system was boiling down to melancholia. Your tears ran rivers down your face as you tried to find the words to say. “I just don’t understand..” You started, keeping your voice from breaking.
Every speck of humor fled from his face at how upset you were getting. Tony’s brows pressed together, graveness and concern bleeding through his tone of voice. “Don’t understand what, honey?” The gentleness of his tone reminded you of when he’d comfort you in childhood. It took you back to when he’d snapped at you and wanted to apologize, or when you’d scraped your knee and he rushed to patch you up. It started to ease the narrative in your head that Tony was angry with you for your little tantrum.
“I, uh.. I don’t—” A shaky breath cut you off. You weren’t sure how to communicate this feeling lightly. It’d been bottled up and growing inside you for a couple months now. You knew you’d have to tell him at some point, you just despised how raw it was. It was pure vulnerability. “I don’t understand what I did to not be good enough–” You couldn’t even get through the sentence before your lip quivered.
That was when Tony looked at you like the entire world shattered. His entire world shattered. The disappointment flooded his expression once again, but it hit you that it was never directed at you — Tony was disappointed in himself. His eyes held the weight of failing as a father, of making you feel this rejected. He failed by making you feel rejected in the first place. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a suffocating hug; you weren’t sure if he’d ever actually be able to let go of it, yet it was the kind of hug you didn’t want to part from. A hug that shielded you from the entire world.
His lips pressed to your temple, along with a few stray tears he couldn’t catch beforehand. It was rare to catch your father tearful, yet you seemed to lower that guard when you started the conversation. He held you close, letting you cry out the feelings you’d locked away for so long.
“Y/N, you’re more than enough..” He lulled, voice breaking ever so slightly, “It’s my fault you ever felt like you weren’t..” His words were everything you’d hoped to hear. You’d began to believe the possibility that actually hearing them wasn’t actuality. This insecurity had driven you beyond wild, to the point where you believed that your father’s intentions were pinned against you.
They never were.
Tony held you in his arms for the next hour, letting you talk out your growing anxiety. You talked about everything from your fomo towards their retreats and trips, to how thrown off you were that Peter was your age.
“I actually think you two would make a cute couple.” Tony started, laughing at how quick you were to throw a punch at his bicep. The melancholy had worn off both of you, and the room started to fill with laughter. “I’m serious!” Tony threw his arms up to mock defeat before changing the topic a little. “But really, I think he wants to apologize to you for what happened.”
Your face drew a blank, mixing shock and confusion as you blinked at your father a few times. “Parker wants to apologize to me? For my meltdown?”
A shrug caught in your father’s posture. “You two are more similar than you think, hon.” His tone was light and sincere as he chuckled, quietly, “You both put the weight of other people’s mistakes on your shoulders.” His words draped a blanket of guilt over your body. Your own words from said meltdown began to replay through your brain like a broken record; the blame you’d thrown at Peter was wrongfully served.
You knew you needed to apologize.
After rebuilding trust with your father, and mentally rehearsing how to apologize to Peter, you made your way across the apartment to the guest room.
The door was already open, and gave you the perfect view of Peter seated on the edge of the bed. He was reading, fidgeting fingers at the edge of his pages, and chocolate curls shadowing his focused expression.
Now that you’d been able to release the steam of your self–consciousness, you realized that hatred wasn’t the actual feeling you had towards Peter; it was envy. And once you had talked things out with your father, the clouds of your judgment cleared from your vision and you could finally see Peter Parker for who he really was: a boy. A boy your age who needed a place to crash for the weekend.
You felt guilty for interrupting his reading, but at this point, the feeling was a tiny speck to add to your growing pile of culpability. The knock was gentle, and immediately pulled his eyes to meet yours.
“Mind if I come in for a minute?” You had to croak the words out, but still managed to keep a softness to your tone. You didn’t want to yell at him again, or come across like you were about to.
The look he gave you wasn’t one you weren’t expecting; he eyed you like he’d committed an unforgivable crime, or like you’d break if he didn’t hold you together. It gave you reassurance that this apology definitely needed to come out sooner than later.
Peter book–marked his place without looking, keeping his stare fixed on you while he nodded. “Please,” He gestured to the foot of the bed beside him, “Sit. I– uh, I was planning to find you and see if you were alright, but I didn’t want to interrupt your space.”
As you sat down beside him, a smile touched your lips at how thoughtful he was. “I appreciate that, but I–I owe you an apology, Peter..” You never broke your eye contact, but the look in your eyes grew more urgent, pleading. “I am so sorry for speaking to you that way, and–”
You cut yourself off at the sight of Peter waving his hands in dismissal. He mirrored the look in your eyes, “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I don’t want you to feel like I’m here to replace you.” His words held a direness that yours should have. Your dad was right, Peter really was putting the gravity of this into his hands.
To stop his spiral, you touched his arm for a minute, “Peter, that wasn’t your fault. It was mine for assuming and unloading all of that shit onto you. And I’m sorry for that.”
His eyes alone begged you to let him win the argument. “I still could have–”
You cut him off, “Peter, it’s not your fault.” You tried to emphasize your point, noticing the way he read your expression. His eyes scanned every inch of your face, searching for what looked like a sign of your uncertainty. His lips parted to contribute his side of the argument, but one look from you shut his trap pretty quickly.
Peter’s shoulder’s eased, but his eyes still glistened with ambition. He wanted you to understand his perspective a little. “Did your dad tell you how nervous I was to meet you?”
That wasn’t what you were expecting. Your eyes widened a little, shaking your head in response. Peter Parker? Nervous to meet you? The way your dad talked about him didn’t set him up to be that way. Of course, seeing him in front of you changed your perception a little. “No, he didn’t.” You were honest.
He wet his lips, parting them with the warmest smile you’d ever set your eyes on. The laugh that spilt from them was melodic, laced with a bit of nerves. He rubbed a muscle on the back of his neck, suddenly choking up. “Yeah, I was pretty nervous.” His brow arched slightly, complimenting his grin photogenically. “I was nervous ‘cause Mister Stark’s always talking the world to me about his amazing daughter.” Peter’s smile grew in your direction, stirring a hurricane of butterflies through your stomach.
It felt like the two of you were in the midst of a staring contest; though, instead of the intense anticipation glistening in each other’s eyes, you mutually stared at each other in security. You’d both had the immense pressure of making good impressions toward the other on your shoulders.
Peter repositioned himself on the bed, now seated facing you. His legs were crossed beneath him, his knee a hair from touching yours. “You, Y/N, are not only his greatest accomplishment, but you’re his best friend.” His words spread like butter over every worry you’d had, melting away that crippling insecurity with it. “I think he wants to be you when he grows up.”
The laughs that bubbled up your throat brought attention to the tears brimming your eyes. You blinked them away, mirroring Peter’s earnest expression. “I can tell why my dad’s always talking about you.” You told him, “And here I was thinking you’d be some old ass dude living in his mother’s basement, but here we are.”
“And here I was thinking you wouldn’t be drop–dead gorgeous.” His cheeks were ablaze with crimson, sending a pink glow of your own to your complexion. “But, here we are.”
Your smile grew, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “Alright, casanova. Save it for the love letters.” It felt nice to share laughter like this with Peter. You were glad that you gave him a second chance. Not breaking eye contact, you slid off the bed and rose to your feet. “I’ll let you get back to your reading”
Peter watched you get up to go, looking a little disappointed. You were almost surprised, but likewise, both you and Peter hid the honesty of your feelings behind the curtains of a smile.
“You don’t have to. You could stay if you want.” He started, but a look flashed behind his eyes that was rather telling; he seemed to panic over his eagerness for your company. “Unless you don’t want to–”
Biting the inside of your cheek hurt, but it was the only way to hide how wide your smile grew. “I’d love to, but I need to finish that circuit board.” And thus, the idea struck you. “You doing anything later though?”
His brows pressed together in a curious way. “Not really. You planning something?”
“Yeah. My dad and I usually have movie nights tonight.” You took paces backwards towards the door, but stalled from the moment you’d have to part ways. “You should join us! It’s my turn to pick.”
The sight of his dimples made you realize just how much you’d grown fond of his smile. It was already getting difficult to leave his presence; you knew if you didn’t leave now, you probably never would.
“Well, then you better pick a good one, just for me.” He challenged. You’d make it your goal to satisfy his request.
If even possible, it felt like your grin grew. “I plan to.”
And that said, the three of you met in the home–theater and watched Jurassic Park together. You had Tony on your left geeking out over the CGI technology from the 80s, and Peter on his left geeking out about how accurate the movie was from the book. It made your film decision that much better. It also was the best movie night you’d had in a long while.
Perhaps your dad was right: you and Peter Parker really would get along great.
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sciderman · 7 months
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ever kissed in zero-g?
day 2 of @spideytorchweek - space!
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samglyph · 3 months
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Ghost Hunter Au Part 1/2
Next
This is my entry for the Malevolent “write in your style event”, @malevolent-monthly!
I wasn’t initially planning on participating since this is a writing event and not an illustration one, but the prompt immediately inspired me so I got the go ahead to make a little comic! Part two out soon.
ID in Alt text provided by @shadow0haven
If you like what I do and want to see more, consider donating to my ko-fi!
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Dreaming about them 🥰
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ir0npvrker · 8 months
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peter: if i saw a portal, i would enter it, no questions asked
tony:
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hedonistbyheart · 7 months
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Mutations make you super hungry
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