Socks

I'm going to put New Recruit on hold for the time being...

I have a bit of a Christmas surprise in the works. ;)

♡

Warnings: none.

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Stark!Reader

A chill ran up your spine, the sun's early morning rays still too weak to make a difference. Hurrying along the already-bustling city block, you saw a young man open the door to your favorite coffee shop. You threw a skip into your step to catch the door before it closed.

The humidity in the shop promptly rendered you blind, as the moisture condensed on the surface of your glasses. Removing them, you made your way to the counter to order.

"What can I get for you today?" The barista asked, without looking up from his screen.

"A honey lavender chai would be lovely," you replied, holding your glasses out for inspection. When you glanced up, he was staring.

"...Sorry, what was that?" He asked.

"Um, a honey-lavender chai?" You repeated, pushing the glasses back up the bridge of your nose. "Medium, please."

"Oh, you got it! Can I take a name?" He was all smiles.

"Y/n." You paid and took a seat to wait. You chose the window, to watch the city run about. All those people, all those individual lives, all those... open tabs.

The vibration of your phone jolted you out of your reverie.

Parental Unit: Briefing at 10. Can you make it?

You checked the time. 7:29.

You: Of course I can. Clear my zone.

Parental Unit: Always. Note: suit up.

Your heart skipped a beat. You never suited up with the team. You weren't officially an Avenger, really. Not yet, anyway.

"Y/N?" The barista called.

You stood and headed toward the counter. You passed the guy who had entered the shop before you, and you could feel nervous energy radiating off of him. His head jerked up, when the barista called another name. Clearly in a hurry, he scrambled to gather his things.

At the counter, the barista held a drink out to you. As you reached for it, he held a hand to his ear and mouthed, "call me." A quick glance at the cup affirmed that he had scrawled his number below an atrocious "Y/n The Cutie." You raised your eyebrows and gave a tight-lipped smile. You turned to leave, as the nervous dude approached the counter. He was staring at his phone, trying to carry his things while hastily attempting to type something out. He didn't see you, in his frazzled state. At the last moment, his eyes bolted up and he jerked to the side.

He would have avoided you completely, were it not for his backpack. The directional change was too sudden to counter the bag's forward momentum, and it crashed into you, effectively exploding the the drink in your hands. The hot liquid quickly soaked the front of your shirt, all the way through to your bra.

"Oh, man, I'm so sorry!" The guy said. He grabbed a handful of napkins from the counter and tried to hand them to you.

You were more disappointed in the waste of drink than the soiled clothes, but that wasn't exactly a tally for the plus column, either.

You sighed and took the napkins. "S'alright. Thanks," you said, gesturing with the napkins.

"Wait! Let me get you a new one?" He wanted desperately to make amends.

"Let me make you a new one! On the house!" The barista chimed in. He glared at the poor dude, who, in turn, shot him a confused and affronted look.

You glanced between the two, taking a step back towards the door. "Thanks for the offer...s," you added, "but I've really got someplace to be." They both looked like they wanted to say something, but you hurried out before they could get another word in.

"At least she has my number," the barista was cloth-drying a mug.

Peter's head swiveled back to him. "I wasn't trying to hit on her, man. I spilled her coffee all over. It's only right to replace it."

"Whatever man. It wasn't even a coffee. It was a honey-lavender chai."

One And The Same

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

From the reader's point of view in a ___ x reader fic, do you prefer first person (I/me/my) or second person (you/your) point of view?

It's short and awful, but I promised.

Warnings: Fluff.

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Reader

Peter woke to the scent of you filling his nostrils. He buried his nose deeper into your hair and tightened his arms around you. He loved being this close to you. If he could wake up to you every morning of his life, he would be the happiest man on this world and the next.

You stirred in his arms, turning to face him.

"Did I wake you?" Concern laced his voice.

"No, not at all. I was afraid of waking you. I've been avoiding this for the past half hour," you said, leaning into him, and kissing him, deeply.

You felt his hand on your waist slide around to your back, pulling you into him. Then he buried his face in your neck and held you tight. "I love you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"It's a good thing you don't have to be without me. The unfortunate part is that you're actually stuck with me," you spoke softly.

He looked up and into your eyes."It's an honor to be stuck with you. That's all I'll ever want."

Your lips parted with no planned response, but before you could speak, the door burst open. Peter fell off the bed, and you nearly got whiplash turning to see who had entered.

"Up and at 'em, kids. Parker, I want to see you in fifteen. Happy is outside the door, ready to escort you." With that, Mr. Stark exited the room, closing the door behind him.

You leaned over the side of the bed. Peter looked up at you, his back against the floor. He smiled at you and you both burst into a fit of giggles.

Peter stood and brushed himself off. "Well, I don't really have anything to change into, so I guess I'm ready. Are you? Are you okay to get up?" He held out a hand.

"I... think so? I haven't been given any doctor's orders or anything, and I feel okay." You took his outstretched hand. "Let's go."

Happy was stationed outside the door, as promised. When the two of you exited the room, he turned with a curt, "follow me," which you did. He led you down the hall around a few corners, down some more halls, and up to a set of double doors.

"Y/N, you'll stay here with me. Peter, Tony is waiting just past those doors."

Peter looked at the doors, and back at Happy. "I, uh, okay." He opened the doors and you caught a glimpse of a metallic suit. It didn't quite seem to have the same design as the typical Iron Man suits, but you barely saw it before the door closed.

Happy was silent the whole time, which was simultaneously awkward and ideal. You stood by the wall, waiting for Peter.

Eventually, the doors opened to Peter and Tony. Tony removed his arm from around Peter's shoulder and shook his hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark. For everything." Peter said professionally, but you could detect the gushing. Tony Stark was his hero, after all.

"Sure thing, kid. I've arranged a ride home for you two, and we'll be in touch." He started to turn, but paused. "Keep up the good work, kid." Then he turned back to the doors and started through, motioning for Happy to follow, which he did, leaving you and Peter alone.

"What did he say?" You asked, as Peter took your hand in his.

He lead you toward the building exit. "He, uh... he offered me a spot on the team." Peter seemed to truly recognize the fact as he repeated it to you. "He made me a new suit and had a press meeting set up in the next room. At least he said he did. It had to have been a test, though, right? Like, there's no way he'd make me an Avenger. I'm fifteen. I mean... right?"

You weren't sure. Tony Stark was a world renowned wild card, and this would easily fall within his realm of characteristic unpredictability. "I don't know, Pete. I think it would be a loss not to recruit you. But then again, you said it. You are only fifteen."

"I guess I'll never know. Or maybe I will someday?" He shook his head as if to clear it. "I just need to get home and relax after all this chaos."

You agreed. Someone met you out front of the facility and directed you to a car. From there, you were driven a short way to a landing strip, where a small plane was waiting.

"Is this for us? For real? Our own private plane?" Your eyes went wide.

Peter tried to act cool, but you could tell that he was excited, too.

As the two of you settled in, Peter checjed his phone for the first time in nearly a day. "Shit!"

"What?" You leaned in with curious concern.

"I have a million missed calls from May! What am I supposed to tell her? Ive got nothing for this. We've been gone all night! There's no explanation... and you never made it there, so your parents are probably freaked, too!"

Just then, a call came through. Peter answered.

"Hello? Oh! Mr. Stark! Yeah. I don't know. No. Well... oh, okay. Thank you, sir. Okay. Okay, thanks." He hung up, turning to you. "Mr. Stark said he'd take care of everything. I don't know what that means, but I guess we don't have to worry."

You raised an eyebrow. "That was oddly good timing."

"I'll say. Aunt May probably got a hold of him."

"Oof... I don't envy him. She's not exactly his biggest fan."

Peter winced. "Yeah... far from."

When the plane landed, a car was waiting to take you home. It dropped you both off at Peter's. As you walked up the stairs to the apartment, Peter grasped your hand. As you reached the apartment, he stopped and faced you.

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"I just... ugh." He pulled you into a long, firm hug. "I'm just so glad you're alive. This has been a crazy 24 hours. It's all just weighing on me, now."

You hugged him back, tightly. "I know. We just need a nice cup of tea, some cup-pies, and a solid movie night."

"That sounds amazing." He pulled back and locked eyes with you. Slowly he leaned in, kissing you softly. When he pulled back, he glanced at the door. "Shall we?"

"I think we're as ready as we'll ever be. How do you think Mr. Stark 'handled it'?"

"I guess there's one way to find out. On three?"

"One."

"Two."

You spoke together. "Three."

Peter opened the door. "May?" He called as you crossed the threshold together.

May raced around the corner... followed closely by your parents. All three embraced you. "Thank God you're okay!"

May turned to face Peter. "Peter Benjamin Parker, you have an awful lot of explaining to do... starting with this." She held up a brown paper bag. Written in sharpie, the face of the bag read "This belongs to you. -TS"

Taglist:

@paigeyisme

@hollandparkerr

@captainmommaoftwogirls