somebody write an au fic where peter has the powers of saitama from one punch man aswell as the webs and spider sense. and hes just. going through life.
can you imagine all the avengers and various heros trying their best to keep earth and the universe safe and then this fucking anonymous ‘spiderman’ comes up and defeats everything in under 10 seconds with one fucking punch.
S.H.I.E.L.D tries to catch him but literally nothing works and they eventually give up
he has really dry humor but is constantly making sarcastic comments
not even natasha can land a hit on him
they’re all so fucking confused
then peter and tony become friends
and the avengers get to know him and they all become friends (fuck civil war)
and they find out that this unstoppable absolute BEAST. is a FUCKING 16 YEAR OLD IN HIGH SCHOOL
THEY WOULD FLIP THEIR S H I T
and then THANOS
THANOS COMES IN
NOBODY CAN GET CLOSE TO HIM
EVERYTHING SEEMS LOST
'so…. why a glove? i mean… you could use the gems in anything. so why a glove. isn’t it a little overused?’
everybody just kinda watches as thanos tries to kill spiderman
but hes dead before he can open his mouth.
anyway please give me ridiculously overpowered peter parker not giving a shit about anything thank you
honestly? this is what i want. warnings: kissing, and a lot of kissing, fluff :)
you stared around peter’s room. the clock sitting on his desk was ticking and the wind was chiming in through the window. your eyes lacked any ounce of sleep while he was sleeping peacefully beside you, arms locked behind your waist as soft snores left past his lips. you smiled softly, staring at him, not creepily though.
you poked his cheek gently with your index finger, forgetting that just what action would be tranquil for any other human, could alert him. he opened his eyes and looked at you with slightly squinted eyes.
“oh, no” you smiled sheepishly, “sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up.” he hummed, only pulling you closer to him.
“why aren’t you asleep?” he asked. he ran his hand through your hair making you sigh.
I’m zoom watching Spiderman: Homecoming with my friend and she is sooo salty over the fact that Peter just left his backpack by the trash. “garbage like where ur backpack is stooopid” She’s still on about it and Peter just got his suit taken away. I am dying.
Aw, this is so cute 🥺 thanks for sending it in, I hope you like this 💕
Summer of 2009, Central Park. It was the time that you spent like any normal kid, living away from all the chaos that was going on in your father’s life. The big attack on New York was still at bay and children could play in the park without any threats and mortal danger.
You and your mother, Maya Hansen, lived in a small apartment in Queens. She had told you that your father left the two of you for some other woman and you hated him so much. You sought revenge, to the extent that you built a tech that could seriously damage the target.
But as you look back to back then, you can’t stop the frown that appears on your face at the picture of your mother kept upon the dresser in your room. She has been the bad guy here but she was still your mother.
You look at the wall clock hanging above the whiteboard.
Five minutes later, as always, Peter met you near the back exit of the school. Students rarely bothered to use it, and that gave you both an easy way of going for patrol.
Your dad wasn’t really excited about the fact that you went for patrolling around the city, but he could do so much as tell you to stay home. Being Tony Stark’s daughter meant being a rebellion plus this was his punishment for abandoning you for almost nine years.
Peter got changed into his Spider-man suit as you waited for him on a nearby building. And you went around the city like a routine. You felt like you owed this city and like Peter always said, with great power, comes great responsibility.
It wasn’t always about the responsibility though, you had your fun moments, playing video games, doing sleepovers with your friends.
It is nice to have Peter as a friend.
On days when danger was low and the only sound was the bustling traffic in the small streets of Queens, you sat on to the rooftop with Peter and watched the pink sky turn purple and then black. To pass the time one day when you didn’t want to go home, both of you settled on playing twenty questions.
“So, Peter Parker, do you have a crush on someone?” You asked, smiling mischievously and seeing the tip of his ears turn pink. This happened whenever Peter was either very excited or very nervous “Oh my god, you’re a tomato! Who are they?”
He just looked at you helplessly with wide eyes, “Um, well, you know, she’s really great.”
You smiled at him, “Lucky you!”
“N-no, s-she’s just way out of m-my league” He stuttered out, looking ahead as the sun descended leaving the hues of purple and pink.
“Are you kidding? You’re Spider-man, dude. You could just hold her hand and she’ll be all yours.” You laughed, obviously joking, but turned serious when you felt Peter’s hand over yours.
He didn’t look at you, keeping his sight anywhere but you.
To you, Peter had always been that kid who couldn’t talk about his feelings without stumbling all over his words and you wondered from where did he get the confidence to do this.
You smiled softly as he intertwined his fingers with yours.
It was nice to have Peter as a friend.
You guys were inseparable after that one evening. Looking out for each other during the mission, even more so than before. Coffee dates, library dates. Making out behind the ‘Chemistry books’ bookshelf sometimes all the time.
You went to college together. Even though you rarely had the same class but you worked through it. Isn’t that what it’s all about? People have their ups and downs in a relationship and so did you, but you always found a way to make it up to the other.
Getting used to your first ever job was hard and there were days where you came home so tired. Peter would run a hot bath for both of you. Sometimes he made your favourite dinner.
Now you look at all the pictures hanging in the living room of your youse and laugh together, re-embracing those memories together.
Reasons why The Punisher (Jon Bernthal) should be in Spider-Man: Homesick
When I heard that for the third movie of Spider-Man a new hero will enter the MCU to help him, I immediately thought that it should be Frank Castle and here are my reasons:
• It would help Peter learn to become independent from the Avengers.
It is a topic that many debate, the vast majority of viewers are irritated by how dependent Spider-Man has become on what The Avengers do or not do and also because of the help he receives from his friends (Happy, Ned, MJ ), I can very safely say that if Frank helps Peter with his current difficult situation, he will learn how to work alone as he did in the second season of The Punisher with Amy.
• Frank Castle is a very easy character to add to the MCU.
Why am I saying this? Because Frank is a ghost (not literally), he is always hidden in the shadows and only performs on the streets. The Punisher, being a controversial character in his own history, makes no one talk about him, everyone saw him, everyone knows who he is, what he did and what he is capable of, however, not even the FBI dares to look for it.
• Tom Holland and Jon Bernthal are friends.
They have made a movie together, they know each other and they clearly get along well, that is a great advantage when filming. They both helped each other when it came to playing their Marvel characters.
• Frank Castle tends to protect teens in distress.
You could see the previous said in the second season of The Punisher, since from the first chapter he protects Amy.
• Punisher would help the development of Peter Parker as an individual character.
By putting Frank Castle in Peter’s way, development and maturity as a character could be achieved by having to witness and experience the worst side of humanity, Frank would help him in his effort to survive and could even protect him.
• The Punisher is the perfect ally against Kraven the Hunter.
As the vast majority will know, Kraven was confirmed as the main villain of Spider-Man 3: Homesick, and honestly the best ally Peter can ask for is Frank Castle, Kraven is a man specialized in hunting and weapons, Frank would be it is very helpful since he knows military techniques, how to treat gunshot wounds and how to deal with a man specialized in weapons.
• Placing The Punisher would be the cue for dark plots.
What am I going with that? I say that since it is a serious crisis in Peter’s life with Frank Castle, a man who has gone through hell and has returned to take revenge, it can help when Spidey has to make difficult decisions, because if someone other than nobody knows about difficult decisions that is The Punisher.
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Notes: Sweet damn!!! This came out a lot longer than I intended for it to. Let me tell you. As I was writing I kept thinking of more ideas and the word count kept getting longer. I’ll edit this when I have the time if I’m able, so forgive typos. There are so many typos. I’ll change this when I’ve edited the story.
I came up with the idea years ago back when Civil War came out. But now I have time to headcanon and perfect it.
The little girl stared at Peter and he in turn stared back the two looked at each other as if they were deer caught in the head lights. That both sat criss cross, across from the other on May’s living room sofa. Every time Peter even tried to make a move the little girl would flinch, a cold chill creeping up her spine so Peter tried to remain motionless.
While he appeared cool on the outside, inside his thoughts were spiraling out of control. What do I do!? What do I do!? Where’s aunt May? One of my first real “rescues” as Spider-Man and I come home with a kid!? In the grip of silent panic his right foot beat uncontrollably against the cushion. It seemed to be the only acceptable action, as it didn’t send the pipsqueak into a tizzy.
He had been doing a routine sweep of neighboring area swing through the cityscape when a scream as good as a a banshee’s rent the air. Nobody screamed like that unless they were in fear for their life. It came from a darkened alley, and like a true hero he’d taken off toward it ready to take on whatever threat lied ahead. He shocked to find the alley seemingly empty though after a careful look around just to be safe he had found her. Lonely, buried beneath bags of trash, she laid out.
Peter wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking back then, forty minutes ago. Scratch that, he knew damn well. The city streets were no place for child, especially one so young. It was going to be dark soon and thunder had been in the forecast for later that evening. He’d used his best judgement.
He mentally scoffed, best judgment.
Now here he sat just him and what could be more than a two-year-old. Her icy blue eyes stared directly into his soul unsure yet whether to consider him friend or foe. Her clothes were of the spring variety a season that would becoming to an end in following few weeks. They seemed kind small for her, which was saying something, stained with dirt, garbage, and other thing Peter didn’t care to name. Her hair was knotted and tangled giving it a troll rat nest appearance. If he had to guess, she was brunette.
The ringing for the apartments land line went of like a school bell. The two caught off guard both flinched at the sudden noise, the little girl letting out a high pitched yelp as she did. Second ring. Peter shared a look with toddler at the other end of the couch. He needed to answer the phone, but he didn’t want to trigger a panic. Third ring. She whimpers bring her knees up into her chest. Fourth ring.
“I need to answer the phone,” Peter said. His words were clear and concise, carefully spoken as to not spook her. “Please, I promise that’s all I’m going to do.” Her icy eyes softened, not by much but enough to convince him she would allow him to get up and move across the room.
He moved in at brisk walking pace very aware of the fact that with each step he was silently being judged. Once in the kitchen her scooped up the land line and spoke into it. “Parker residence. Hey this…” he listened for a moment.
“Hey, May… I’m- I’m fine. I could really use your help though… Can it wait?” He looked over to the child now staring out the window, from the couch, with wide eyed fascination at the rain outside. “It’s kind of important… Oh I see… Uh-huh… Uh-huh… But still… Uh-huh. Okay… Later? Sure… Okay… No, no I got it… okay, see you then… I love you too…bye.” He hung up the phone, placing it back on it charging stand.
With a sigh he ran his hands across his face. The child immediately turned her focus back to him eyes darting up and down to discern his current emotional state. He wouldn’t cuss in front of her, at least not a loud. Inside his head he was Kenny McCormick.
He gave a feeble smile to the toddler when he noticed she was watching his every move, as if she were studying him. “What am I going to do with you?” he laughed somewhat dryly. She obviously didn’t like that lowering her head so only her eye and above peeked out from behind the couch’s back.
It seemed there was nothing he could do to make her budge. She was’t interested in his action figured, books, or legos— Probably a good thing she wasn’t to keen on the legos kind of a choking hazard — she ignored his funny faces and attempts to make her laugh. She just stared on, gnawing on her fingers, curled up at one end of the couch. She had moved when Peter accidentally came too close to her but he wasn’t about to do that again. It would be cruel to use her spacial fears against her.
“Okay I give up,” Peter declared. “You can just sit there on the couch and do nothing.” He was laid out across the rug surrounded by various items he’d pulled from his room in an effort to entertain the emotionless youngling.
At Peter declaration she raised a brow, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of her lips. As quickly as it came it went, Peter was none the wiser.
She hadn’t meant to do that, Peter could tell by the light pink pink color flushing her cheeks. Her stomach rumbles again making her squirm in her seat.
Peter raced to the kitchen. He swung open the fridge, digging past the left over takeout none of which he figured she’d like, he found a box with leftover chicken nuggets from a meal he’d made himself a few days prior. He took out the remaining seven nuggets and quickly placed them in the microwave for 49 seconds before coming back to the living room.
He sat back down, set the plate out on the coffee table in front of the child and asked.
“Are you hungry?” A lick of the lips was all he got in response. She carefully eyed the plate, focus switching from,Peter to the tenders on a loop. “It’s okay, the foods fine,” he tried nudging the plate a bit closer to her. “It’s chicken nuggets. Do you like chicken nuggets?” She curiously dropped her head to one side eyebrows drawing together as if to ask ‘what are chicken nuggets?’
“There really good,” Peter coaxed taking a piece for himself to demonstrate. “It’s okay, they’re not poisoned or anything.” He took a bite and smiled.
Hesitantly she reached an arm out but was quick to realize her arms were to short. Cautiously, carefully she slid herself off the couch cushion, eye never leaving Peter. Feet firmly on the ground she let herself relax a little. She finally took one of the nuggets off the plate and sat her little bum on the rug. She sniffed the meat then just barely touched it to her small tongue.
She cooed, kicking her legging up and down, as she’d just been hut by a stoke of lightning. Her eye dilated losing there icy sheen as she devoured the chicken nuggets. Eyes shining with new found life she looked to Peter. Clicking her feet together she held out the plate, making series of inaudible noises.
Peter bit back a laugh, “do you want some more.” There was bag in the freezer, they would actually require more than a microwave to bake. But she was happy, maybe more would make her smile.
Peter couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. Making more chicken nuggets had clearly been the right decision. She chattered and observed everything with a newfound curiosity. He still hadn’t seen her smile but that didn’t bother him too much.
He sat on the couch watching her wander around the apartment reaching for and looking at everything. Every now and again she’d find something so interesting to her that she’d pick it up and bring it over to show Peter. She chatter and babble nonsensically then leave at his feet and amble of to continue exploring.
Peter was keeping a list in his head of where she was finding everything so he could later put them back. So far she’d gifted him nine items; an electronic candle, the tv remote, one fuzzy sock, his Mathematics of Astronomy textbook, a spare set of keys, a decorative flower, an orange, a quarter and two nickels, and his Wicket the Ewok action figure.
There was pull from under him. He looked over the back of the couch to see the little girl tugging atone end of the throw blanket, the other end firmly lodged underneath him. “Whatcha doin’?” She briefly stared at him, then continued to tug at the soft blanket.
“I don’t think I can keep pretending you don’t have a name.” He said suddenly, lifting himself off his end of the throw blanket.
With no one else home it was easy to ignore the fact that he didn’t know her name but it was starting to feel rude. She knew his name, he just thought she couldn’t yet say it. Either out of shyness or verbal development.
“Do you have a name?” He asked. She blinked a few times before draping the blanket over her head. “Can you tell me what it is?” He tried. From beneath the blanket she chattered and honked at Peter stomping her feet against the floor.
“Really?” Peter smiled, pretending he knew just what she’d said. “Well, how about I give you a nickname?” she babbled some more craning her head to one side. “Okay cool,” he pulled out his phone and brought up a cite for nickname recommendations. “Let’s see… cutie? You are pretty cute,” Peter teased. He couldn’t see her face but he heard her blow a raspberry. “So that’s a no… monkey?” she was curious. Another raspberry. “Bee?” This time she shook her head, her interest fading.
Blanket still over her head she traveled around the room like a ghost. A cute ghost. An unnerving tingle ran up Peter’s spine making the hairs on his skin stand on end. He immediately looked to the toddler. “Ooah,” she squeaked. She hadn’t gotten far before bumping into one of the apartment’s ceiling support beams. His eyes flew wide and his muscles went all rigid.
He surprised himself, he was at her side in seconds, still maintaining an arms length distance. Her arm length not. “Hey, hey are you okay?” He softly cooed, cautiously lifting the blanket off her head. He looked her over, as best he could from where he was, for any bruises or marks. She nodded.
“Yep? You’re okay?” She continued to nod making clicking noises with her tongue. There was this twinge feeling in Peter that just wasn’t convinced. Not a spidey-sense feeling just a fEeLiNg.
She affirmatively nods, struggling to stand up in the blanket tangle she’d created. Peter couldn’t help but laugh softly watching her struggle to stand. She reminded him of the videos of newborn calves standing for the first time. She sneezed tripping backwards back down on her bum.
His muscles went stiff, he had to stop himself from touching her. “Hey, be careful. Clumsy.” He laughed dryly. “You alright?” She turned her head to him, wiping the snot dribbling down her nose away with her sleeve and nodded.
Peter crinkled his nose in disgust, he was compiled by sheer grossed outness to peel her arm away by the sleeve. She flinched at the sudden contact, her face washed blank with confusion. Then she remembered, and her muscles relaxed.
“Let’s use a Kleenex,” Peter suggested bringing her arm away from her boogered nose. Her clothes were already coated in a thin layer of grime. “Maybe… take a bath?” He added. She was in desperate need of one, he was getting used to it but she reeked. And he was curious to know what she looked like without the filth layer.
That being said, this was the first time he’d been allowed to contact her in anyway since he’d brought her home and she still seemed agitated. So bath would be hers and his summit.
He managed to coax her into the bathroom and fill up the tub before she’d put two and two together. She stood back against the one door and shook her head. He’d been at this for fifteen minutes, though her trust in him had grown she refused to enter the bath. Peter wasn’t about to make her that’d just undo her confidence in him.
“Hold on I’ll show you.” Peter dunked his head into the mildly warm water. Her nervous became frazzled jumping all together in a frazzled panic. Heart rate spiking, she speeds across the room to the edge of the tub. It wasn’t long before Peter brought his head back up, he’d only been under for a couple of seconds. His hair lies plaster about his forehead beads of water dripping down from the tips. “See? Perfectly fine?”
Looking to her his smile fell. Gripping tightly the edge of the tub, her eyes held a sweet amount of concern. Lower lip drawn back in her, eyes brimmed with watery tear threading to fall. Guilt hit him like a fright train. “I’m sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized. She shakily sniffled, gnawing on her middle, index, and ring fingers as she sat her bum on the tile. She needed to calm her nerves.
So bath was a no go. Something about the water unnerved her.
“How about a shower?” He offered. Sure the toddler was small but she wouldn’t fit in any of the sinks for a baby style bath. It was after all a small apartment. So a shower seemed like the next option. Peter pulled the the drain stopper out, to let the water run down.
Her blues curiously watched the water drain until the base of the tub was bare. “I promise a shower isn’t bad.” She looked at him, monitoring his movements as he stood and took off the handheld shower head. “Promise, promise,” he joked sending a reassuring smile her way.
He turned the nob over the water nozzle, activating the hot water. “It’s just like a rain…shower.” He explained spraying the shower head toward the bath’s back wall.
Eyebrows arching toward the sky, her eyes widened. She chirped and squeaked pointing — with the hand not in her mouth — toward the watery spray.
“See?” He held his hand out in front of the gentle spray. She moved close to him, so close her shoulder brushed against his. She held out her own hand, the warm droplets tickled her skin.
“There you go,” Peter beamed. She babbled about, looking between him and the spray, her senseless words ran into one another. Peter reached over her head and took out rubber duck from the shower caddy. “Ducky will even be your shower buddy.” It hadn’t had purpose until then, previously nothing more than a decoration.
“Quack-quack quack,” he teased tickle the duck against her side. She hummed, crumpling up. Her mouth formed what wasn’t quite a smile but also not a frown. She poked at the rubber duck, attempting to mimic Peter’s quacking. Peter laughed, she sounded like a chick.
“Ducky?” He tried.
She crinkled her nose making a stank face. Another raspberry.
Peter couldn’t believe it. Under all that dirt and grime the toddler was actually quite adorable. She was cute before but now that she was cleaned up she had this new glow to her. The toddler was Celtic looking, fair skin, sharp eyes, spotty dotty freckles that shifted with her cheeks and beautiful strawberry blonde locks.
“And blue,” Peter called out.
The two were back in the living room. They spent the better half of an hour sorting Peter’s stuff by color, something he thought she wouldn’t be interested in but took to quite naturally. They’d run out of stuff from Peter’s pile on the floor to sort twenty minutes ago. He wasn’t quite sure how it started but now all he had to do was call out a color and she’d toddle off to find a match, then return so he could add it to the corresponding color pile.
No completely clean she’d certainly perked up even more so then before. She wore a pink black-squared tank hooded capri romper, hair still damp it fell loosely on to her shoulders.
Prepping for her a shower he’d discovered she wore pull-ups. Shouldn’t have surprised him. This however made him realize there weren’t any clothes suited for her in the apartment. Luckily one of the neighbors a floor below had a child close to her assumed age. The mother was confused as to why he needed some of her child’s old clothes and pull-ups. Peter had just said he was babysitting and the child didn’t bring an extra pair of clothes. Which wasn’t a total lie.
The patter of little feet filled the room as the toddler waddled over to Peter from where ever she had been. She held out a blue sandal, not a pair sandals, just the one. “Is there another shoe,” Peter asked raining a single brow. She drew in her lip, rocking back and forth on the soles of her feet, and nodded hesitantly.
“Can you go get it for the blue pile?”
She rolled her eyes but nonetheless complied, scuffling off to retrieve the other sandal. She was really enjoyable to be around, a bit of goof ball.
It wasn’t long before she came barreling in sandal in hand, a blue metallic 1966 model Chevrolet chevelle clamped between her teeth.
“Hey what did I say?” Peter asked adopting a stern tone. She blinked a few times before remembering. She widened her mouth allowing the car to drop to the floor. “Little gum monster.”
This earned him a raspberry.
Peter was certain she was still teething. If she wasn’t gnawing/gumming on her own fingers she was gumming on some object. She’d gnawed on the rubber duck, a spatula head, four of the gifts she’d given Peter and now a metal model car. He’d have to get her a teething ring.
Peter shook his head mentally hitting himself. She’s not staying.
Peter had to found himself forgetting that fact a couple times in the past two hours.
“Okay go find…” he wanted to challenge her this time. “Yellow.” She chirped and squeaked before toddling off. She was a little scout, obtaining articles and returning them to Peter.
This time it too, her bit longer to find something of a yellow color. The duck had already been used so she need to find something else. She found herself in what could only be Peter’s room. She sifted and searched, eyes on the lookout for some yellow.
He heard it… again. The litter patter of little feet approaching. Heart swelled as he saw her round the corner of the couch, proudly clutching a mustard yellow cloth. “You found yellow,” he commended holding a hand out for her to give him the cloth. Peter couldn’t help but laugh as he spread out what was actually his mustard yellow tee with the words 'Bacteria. The only culture some people have’ printed on in bold black lettering.
The little girl tried mimicking his laughter, but sounded more like a dolphin or chipmunk. This only made Peter laugh more.
The name just slipped out. Her eyes sparkled like freshly fallen snow. He could tell by her body language and lack of raspberry that she at the very least didn’t hate the name. In fact Her babbling happily like spring brook suggested she liked the name.
“Gummy,” he repeated.
There was something about the nickname that just… suited her.
When this kid, Gummy at as Peter now called her, got her energy she made the most of it. He never wanted to hear the Hokey-Pokey or the Baby Shark songs again. His muscles were tight from the childish motions. Simon says had been much more his speed for the night, at least until it was Gummy’s turn be Simon. Hide-and-Seek nearly gave him a panic attack.
He could no longer deny the fact that he cared about her. Her bright eyes, bubbly chirps, and button nose. Her in all her quirkinesses.
“Okay Gummy, behold one of the greatest movies ever!…” He exclaimed holding up a colorful dvd box. Gummy did her cute curious head tilt, crinkling up her nose. “That we own.” Peter murmured somewhat sourly.
Peter had the room set up for comfy movie watching. She’d burned out after four rounds of hide-and-seeks, showing clear signs of tiredness. Now she sat tired-eyed rather sluggishly on the couch. Peter himself was sort of tired too, she’d drain a lot of his energy. A movie seemed like the perfect way to wind down. He wasn’t sure how long she’d last, her eyes already glazing over, but he’d enjoy himself even when she inevitably fell asleep.
Gummy reached for the box making grabby hands. Peter took out the dvd and handed it’s case to the two-year-old. “It doesn’t go in your mouth.” He emphasized before turning his back on her. She tried to play with the thin plastic case but quickly discovered the only thing interesting about it was the sound it made when she opened and shut it.
“My Neighbor Totoro. It has animals I really think you’ll like.” After getting the dvd ready, he sat beside her, letting his body sink into the cushions.
They sat, brains off, engrossed. Peter would peel his eyes away every few minutes to check if Gummy was still awake. Though the television blared her eyes were half closed and her fingers were back in her mouth. She’d yawn, little tongue curling as she did. Her eyes lit up when the first Ghibli creature appeared on screen but there was still a tiredness behind them.
She’d be out like a light soon. Peter returned his focus to the movie.
Some time passed and he suddenly felt a weight increase against his side. He looked down and his eyes immediately softened. Gummy had curled against him. He gave her a side hug and brushed her wispy bangs back. She hugged her little arms around his, nuzzling her face against it, the softest smile gracing her lips.
Peter’s heart melted. She’s not staying. She’s not staying.
He watched her chest rise and fall. The two’s combined body heats, tethered with the bump-bump-buh beat of Peter’s heart sent the sweet girl off to dreamland. Her fingers unconsciously curled into the fabric of his top, not clasping it tightly, but just enough to reassure her, he wasn’t going anywhere. Peter using his other arm brought her onto his lap, protectively holding her against himself.
The apartment was dark. The only sources of light came from the one lamp still lit down the hall, and the frequent passing of street cars. Their lights shining through the apartment windows. There was shuffling of feet out in the hall, a muttering of a curse, a jangle of key, and finally a satisfying click. The door swung open. In the door way, the silhouette of a woman shaking the rain off her umbrella.
“Peter?” She whispered quietly entering in. Just barely making out some movement on the couch she shook her head. Her nephew most have fallen asleep on the couch again. “Peter,” she called out. At the second call of his name Peter awoke, his hold around the still sleeping baby in his arms tightening.
“Hey Pete sorry I had to work late.” May apologized tussling her nephew’s hair. “A coworker had leave suddenly, his wife went into labor. And it was my turn to cover.” She headed to the kitchen.
Peter pushed a hand through his hair fixing the tussled up areas. “Yeah it’s fine May,” He assured looking back at her from over his shoulder. “Something huge happened after school.” He began.
He didn’t get a chance to finish as his aunt held up the dirty pair of clothes Gummy had been wearing earlier. Their apartment didn’t have a washing machine so he’d simply discarded them in the sink until they could be washed. “Peter who’s clothes are these? Who’s Emilia?”
May held up the shirt tag. While he was seated too far to see what was written, he had to guess it was the word 'Emilia’.
Peter bit the inside of his cheek, mentally kicking himself. Her name was on her shirt tag! As the full realization, sank in, he threw his head back. From the pit of his stomach, came all his emotion, and a loud groan passed through his lips.