It's kinda your fault that I'm here

“Daddy! Daddy!” 

Tony swiveled around in his chair watching as his four-year-old son bulldozed through the lab, making his way towards him. There was a large piece of paper gripped by one of his tiny hands, waving around in the air, as the other was holding one of the straps of his Iron Man-themed school backpack.

“Whoa, buddy, where’s the fire?” Tony said with a grin, getting up from his chair just in time for Peter to stumble over one of his feet and tumble to the ground, face first. 

Tony winced but before he could rush over, Peter lifted his head up, curls falling into his eyes. “I’m okay!” He stated, climbing to his feet, holding the paper close to his chest. 

Tony shook his head, kneeling down to grab Peter as soon as he was close enough, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Haven’t we talked about running in the lab, munchkin?” 

Peter rolled his eyes dramatically allowing Tony a small glimpse into his son’s teenage years. 

“Yesssssss,” Peter hummed, leaning against Tony before pulling back the paper from his chest and showing it to his father. “But it was impo’tant I show you dis!” 

Tony grinned, seeing the drawing in his son’s hands. “Well, would you look at that? We’ve got an artist on our hands!” He picked up Peter, sitting back in his chair and placing him down in his lap. 

Peter giggled, getting comfortable in his dad’s lap before pointing at one of the figures in the picture. “Dat’s me!”

“Can hardly tell a difference, baby,” Tony commented, glancing at the small stick figure with a lopsided smile and curly hair. 

“Dat’s you,” Peter continued, pointing at the stick figure holding his hand. “I even w’ote your name so dey would know,” Peter explained, pointing out the letters hovering over Tony’s head (along with three misspellings of ‘daddy’ all crossed out).

Tony grinned, pressing a kiss to Peter’s head. “It’s like looking in a mirror, kiddo.” His stick-figure sported a pair of glasses three times the size of his head, along with a blue circle around his chest to mimic his arc reactor. 

Peter nodded his head in agreement before continuing on, “Dat’s Uncle Rhodey! Dat’s Auntie Pepper and dat’s Uncle Happy!”

Tony passed Rhodey’s and Pepper’s stick figures in favor of Happy, drawing in a deep breath as he took in the oval-shaped figure with dark glasses and a menacing scowl. Oh, this was definitely going on the fridge. 

“Who’s that?” He asked, motioning to the rather disturbing pair of eyes, nose, and lips floating around at the top of the page. 

“Jarbis,” Peter answered obviously. 

“Right. You see that, J?” 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever been portrayed in a better light then now, young sir. Thank you, Peter.” 

“Welcome!” Peter shouted back. 

Tony shook his head fondly before pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I believe my little Picasso deserves some ice cream for his hard work on this drawing.”

Plant your feet, pretty boy ~*~

Treat

Billy grunted and squished down into the depths of Susan’s couch. She was giving out candy at the door. She’d encouraged him to help. It was the kind of thing Owens was always urging him to do; normal social sort of things.

But people were setting off fireworks outside and the sounds kept startling him, making him think of Starcourt. Why people were setting fireworks at Halloween, he had no idea. But that was Hawkins for you.

“Okay, I’m going out,” Max said, practically skipping out of her room. She was dressed up as Freddy Kreugar and she wiggled her plastic nailed Freddy glove at him, cackling.

Billy had tried for a solid week to get up the nerve to ask Steve Harrington if he wanted to hang out and…the nerve had never arrived.

A few days ago they’d kissed at Family Video as Steve was closing up. Then Billy had run off, mumbling that he “had to go” because… because…

He couldn’t say why exactly. He didn’t have to worry about his asshole dad anymore. Neil had taken off for “greener pastures” before Billy had come back.

He hadn’t had a chance to talk about the kiss with Owens yet. Amazingly, he did actually confide in Owens. Owens was just so easy to talk to and he never even approached judgement.

So that was something.

“You’re trick or treating?” Billy said warily, as Max shook out her pillowcase. “Aren’t you guys a little old?”

“Yeah, but we don’t care,” Max said, shrugging. “Besides, El didn’t get to trick or treat her whole life. We’re making it up to her.” 

“Hmm.” He had no reply to that. Anything in favor of El, he was also in favor of nowadays.

“We’re probably just going to Loch Nora anyways,” Max said, as she headed for the door, now wide open, her mother sitting out on the porch. “They always give out full sized candy bars.”

“You’re going to Loch Nora?” Billy said, reflexively jumping to his feet. “I’ll go with you.”

Max knew too much and grinned. “Ha! I knew it.” She reached into her pillowcase and pulled out a headband bearing a pair of glittery red devil horns. “Here’s your costume then.”

“Max.”

“Steve will like it,” Max said, in far too innocent a tone.

Billy grumbled at that, but he pulled up the hood of his black sweat shirt and put on the horns over it, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he followed Max outside and waving to Susan as they left.

The Party greeted Billy with a gentle kind of civility, except for Will who was dressed as a wizard and who softly asked him how he was doing and walked right beside him and offered him Skittles.

Every kid in Hawkins was outside and they all seemed to be making noise, though blessedly the fireworks seemed to be contained to Cherry Road. 

“I’m okay,” Billy mumbled in Will’s direction. “Sometimes I miss the hospital. Weird, huh?”

“Sometimes a hospital’s easier,” Will offered.

The kid was right about that, Billy thought. 

At Loch Nora, Billy’s heart started pounding. The kids seemed determined to hit every single house in order though Dustin made a big deal about getting to Steve’s as if Steve was some kind of celebrity and Dustin had an important in. 

At Steve’s door, Billy stood behind the kids. He made himself stand there. He had to clench his fists to force himself not to run away again. 

It was going to be humiliating, he told himself.

That one little kiss (soft, no tongue, Steve’s mouth had been so warm and perfect and tasted like Red Hots) had been everything Billy had ever wanted and the thought of that had been…overwhelming. He’d been so wired up he had to walk a mile before he went home and then realized he’d ditched Steve. 

The Harrington’s porch light was on. The BMW was in the driveway. Billy saw movement inside and then the door was thrown open and Steve appeared. 

Steve’s hair was so long now it touched his shoulders. He was wearing an orange t-shirt with a jack-o-lantern face on it and a black cardigan and he had a Blow-Pop in his mouth that was turning his plush lips a glossy bright red.

He was so pretty, Billy reeled and almost fell off the front stoop.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up as he looked out at the party and he took the Blow-Pop out of his mouth. “Heeey! Hey, guys!” He finally saw Billy, who braced himself for Steve’s smile to collapse, and for Steve’s eyes to turn icy. But Steve only smiled brighter. He was holding a giant bowl full of candy bars and the kids dove in, not waiting for him to dole them out.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, nodding at him. “Haven’t seen you…”

“Yeah.” Billy shrugged. With Steve, he was usually a lot chattier. Steve, he found a lot easier to talk to since coming back. “Um…”

The kids were taking off already. Max took one look at the two of them and said, “I’ll see you back at home!” She skipped off after Lucas and the others were too interested in the next gold mine of candy to be paying attention.

“Hey,” Steve said yet again. He stepped out on the front stoop and tugged on Billy’s sleeve, dragging him inside. “Get in here, will ya?”

“Oh…” Billy let himself be dragged, so dizzy with…whatever it was, he thought. Love. Affection. That electric feeling he got whenever Steve smiled at him. “Yeah.”

Steve shut the door behind them and he crowded Billy whose lips parted as he watched, a little awestruck. Steve smelled freshly showered. He was wearing a hint of Polo (his favorite, Billy had learned long ago). He pressed up against Billy, his gaze flitting over Billy’s face. 

He did not look unhappy.

“You went away,” Steve said, just a little plaintive.

“Yeah um…sorry-”

“I was nervous,” Steve said.

Billy swallowed and his hands found their way to Steve’s arms and held him there. He was fascinated by how soft Steve’s sweater felt and how firm his muscles were underneath it.

“You were nervous?” Billy murmured. 

“Hell yeah, I was nervous,” Steve whispered, his lips nearly brushing Billy’s. “Never kissed a guy. Almost ran out myself.”

Billy felt a favor was being done for him. He didn’t mind. Steve was thoughtful like that.

“Oh,” Billy breathed. “Well-”

Billy had no idea what he’d been about to say, but that was alright because Steve was kissing him and Steve’s tongue was in his mouth and then he was melting against the door. Steve reached up and caressed Billy’s cheeks with his thumbs, cradling his face like he was important and potentially fragile (boy, was he). 

“You wanna stay here with me tonight?” Steve said, his voice a little throaty and way too knowing.

Billy only nodded and he tugged on those soft sleeves, pulling Steve closer. 

“I like your little devil horns,” Steve whispered in his ear. 

i feel like they would cope with it in completely opposite ways. derek would try kind of a kill it with kindness approach and act like nothing’s changed - he gives stiles soft kisses and tells him he loves him and he knows he’s still there, he’s still stiles. and he pretends his heart doesn’t break in two every time stiles refuses to kiss him back, or pulls away in disinterest, or tells him he’d liked derek better when he didn’t talk. because the real stiles, his stiles, always pushed him to talk more; about serious topics or about nothing at all, he didn’t care, he just loved when derek let his walls down a little and let stiles in. derek still remembers the fond smile stiles would wear as he listened to derek tell him a story, even though he hasn’t seen it in months. 

jackson, though - jackson fights back. because it isn’t fair, it’s not fair that he and stiles have gone through hell and back to make their relationship work, to get to a place where they can love each other for real and be healthy and happy together instead of toxic. it took them so long to figure each other out, and now once they finally have, stiles is gone, and it’s not fucking fair. so he does what he does best (because what’s the point of growing into a better person anymore?) and he lashes out. stiles makes a snide comment about how sick he is of being stuck in the loft with the two of them and jackson tells him to fuck off, because “why the fuck do you think you’re here with us? it’s because no one else can stand to be around you. we’re all you have left, you fucking prick.” 

derek tries to stop them as they throw insults back and forth, more venomous and malicious than they ever were even when they hated each other, but then they’re throwing punches. jackson doesn’t use any of his werewolf strength, because he may be mad, but he’s not a monster - it’s a fair fight. he feels sick to his stomach as he realizes that here and now, while they’re beating the shit out of each other, is the first time he’s seen stiles look happy since they got him back from the alpha pack.

as far as how they get him back, it happens suddenly and not even really on purpose. it’s been months now and there’s still no sign of stiles’ humanity making a reappearance. he and jackson get in another fight, and stiles fires a particularly low blow - “how could anyone ever love you when even your own parents don’t?” - and jackson goes silent, looking like the wind’s been knocked out of him. stiles just raises a brow, unaffected, waiting for a response that doesn’t come. derek steps in front of jackson then, like he’s trying to physically shield him from the hurtful words, and tells stiles to get out.

when he comes back a few hours later (because jackson is right, he has nowhere else to go), he pauses outside the door, because he can hear jackson crying. he’s never seen jackson cry before, so that alone is surprise enough, but what really gets stiles is what he says. their voices are muffled, but if he listens close enough he can just make out derek comforting him, saying “he didn’t mean that, jacks, you know that. i love you, and so does he.” to which jackson sniffles and replies, without hesitation, “i know. i don’t even care about that, i just…fuck, i just miss him. so much.”

and something in stiles flips like a switch, because he’d said quite possibly the worst thing he could ever say to jackson, and he should hate stiles. and yet, against all odds, despite everything, he just misses him. he wants him back. he loves him, still, after all the shit stiles has put them through. 

SO (and I feel like I’m going to be saying this a lot) HERES THE THING.

@jacksonstilinskis, as you can assume, the first time they meet is a fucking disaster.

It’s a disaster because Stiles moved to New York for his bachelor degree, partially in an attempt to chase the highest scholarship he was awarded and partially in an attempt to get the fuck out of Beacon Hills, the place that killed his mother, his father, and his best friend — and the place that left him with a squirming three month old less than a year after he graduates high school, a gift from the recently departed. 

He gets a major in Criminology and a minors in Mythological Studies, rocks the single father gig, and manages to teach Claudia (Scotts idea, Stiles had cried when he found out) what is okay to bite and what is not okay to bite, but getting into grad school is a whole other animal. 

It’s a disaster because Stiles decides to forgo taking out a mortgage in student loans and tries to save up for his masters program by joining up with the NYPD. They have amazing benefits, amazing child support, and a legal team that could kick anyones ass.

It’s a disaster because six years later, when Stiles and Jackson first meet, Stiles is in uniform (a uniform he looks damn good in, Jackson begrudgingly acknowledges) and Jackson’s Porsche just hit about 87 miles per hour in a 55.

first of all that’s honestly the biggest compliment you could ever give me lmao so thank you for that, seriously, i adore you. (here’s the proposal ask that this kind of precedes i guess)

when they’re younger, it’s purely an “i’m better than you and i’m gonna make sure you know it” thing. he doesn’t single stiles out in the beginning; he treats mccall the same way, and all the rest of the dorks in their class. he’s an equal opportunity kind of bully, you know? of all the kids he taunts, though, stiles is the only one that ever dares to fight back. it’s annoying as hell, but it’s also infinitely more satisfying when he comes out on top, with a “nice try, stilinski” so smug and patronizing it leaves stiles scowling. so just like that, he stops caring about everyone else and zeroes in on stiles, makes him public enemy number one, bottom of the food chain, butt of all his jokes. it’s simple.

when they get to high school, though, it gets a hell of a lot more complicated. his feelings for stiles morph into something he doesn’t recognize, something he can’t quite put into words. it’s like he’s under his skin, leaving jackson burning from the inside out, urgent and desperate and all-consuming. it’s stronger than anything jackson’s ever felt in his life, and he writes it off as hatred because it’s the only thing that makes sense. (maybe it’s denial, maybe it’s blissful ignorance, or maybe it’s a little bit of both.) he carries on with stiles as he always has, with passionate arguments and scathing criticism. he calls him “stilinski” like it’s the biggest insult of all, and he gets physical when he has an excuse to, inadvertently seeking out the undeniable electricity he feels whenever they touch.

they kiss exactly one time, in the back of the van scott and stiles stole to kidnap him. stiles is in his face, calling him a monster, and the part that pisses jackson off the most is that for all he knows, stiles is right. he fights, though, bites back with a “fuck you, stilinski, you don’t know me.”

“see, that’s where you’re wrong, jackson. i think i do. i think i’m the only one that’s always been able to see right through you, and that drives you crazy.”

they stare at each other for a long moment, tension physically palpable in the air. jackson doesn’t know who leans in first, but suddenly they’re kissing, fast and frantic and so, so hot. he fists a hand in stiles’ shirt to ground himself as stiles murmurs “can’t stand you, god, you’re so fucking impossible” against his lips. jackson shuts him up by taking stiles’ bottom lip between his teeth and biting, hard, before licking into his mouth hungrily. stiles lets out an indignant little huff and tugs on jackson’s hair until he moans.

the whole thing is a revelation in so many ways, none of which jackson is prepared to deal with. he shoves stiles off of him abruptly and just like that, the moment’s past. they pretend it never happened, and they never talk about it again, to each other or to anyone else.

jackson wants to, but he’s surprisingly traditional sometimes (when he’d moved back from london, newly out and confident in a way that was actually genuine rather than forced, stiles had pretty much immediately tried to drag him into bed, but jackson refused until they did it the right way and went out properly. even then, he didn’t let stiles get him naked until the third date) and he doesn’t feel like it’s his place. he wants to take stiles’ name, not the other way around, so he doesn’t want to ask and risk stiles not being ready to share that part of him with jackson. he knows it’s trivial and could easily be solved with a simple conversation, but we know that’s not always his forte.

he does find a ring, though, in the glovebox of stiles’ car one day when he drives it to work. he breathes a small sigh of relief, and he smiles and leaves it where he finds it, because now that he at least knows it’s something stiles wants, he can wait.

he waits for damn near a year before he can’t take it anymore. then one night over dinner, he asks stiles out of nowhere, “are you ever going to ask me?”

“ask you what, sweetheart?” stiles answers absentmindedly, around a mouthful of food.

“i found the ring, stiles. like, months ago,” jackson says, and that gets stiles’ attention. “unless it’s for someone else?”

“no, jesus, of course it’s for you.” stiles huffs and kicks jackson under the table. “i don’t know, i just wasn’t sure if you were ready, and i didn’t want to ask and overwhelm you if you weren’t.”

jackson can’t quite suppress the fond smile, but he still shoots a pointed look at stiles. “i’m not nineteen with a fear of commitment anymore. i’ve been ready for a long time now.”

“oh,” stiles breathes, almost reverently. then, “why the hell didn’t you ask me yourself, then?”

jackson explains, reluctantly, and stiles somehow manages to look at him like he’s the biggest idiot on the planet but also the center of his entire universe, all rolled into one.

“jacks, i love you so much but you are such a dumbass. i would have given my name to you literally years ago, all you had to do was ask.” and then he reaches across the table to take jackson’s hands in his, squeezing them gently, and says, “marry me.”

it’s kind of funny, actually, because at first jackson’s honest answer would be “i don’t know.” when they first get together, he genuinely does not understand it. not because he’s rich and popular and stiles isn’t, or because he’s embarrassed to be seen with him, but just because they’re such vastly different people. he has no idea how they somehow work so well together, how stiles fits right in at jackson’s side like he was always meant to be there.

the first time stiles asks him, he says “because you’re good in bed,” which certainly is not a lie. he knows exactly what to do to make jackson come apart, pushes his boundaries in ways no one else has ever dared before. stiles brings out the submissive side of him that he’d never previously allowed himself to explore, but he does it without being patronizing or overbearing. they’d agreed not to be exclusive, and yet jackson hasn’t bothered with anyone else since, because the sex could never measure up. when he’s with stiles, the energy is electric and intoxicating and all-consuming.

stiles seems fairly satisfied by that answer at the time, but it turns out to be a question he asks frequently, because there’s no denying his self-esteem is severely lacking. jackson’s responses are typically surface-level, because he sucks at talking about his feelings, but they’re honest nonetheless. “because you’re the only one that can keep up with my snarky attitude and my sarcasm.” “because you make me laugh, and you’re as much of an asshole as i am.” “because you’re the only person in this godforsaken town that doesn’t make me want to set myself on fire.”

the closer they get, though, as booty calls turn into soft sleepovers and just sex turns into an exclusive relationship, jackson realizes his initial assumption was wrong all this time. it was never a case of “opposites attract” at all, because under the surface they’re actually painfully similar. their crippling insecurities, their strained relationship with their parents, their fear of never being enough, their overwhelming desire to be loved and accepted. it makes jackson very, very protective of stiles, because he wouldn’t wish anything resembling the internal torture of his mind on anyone, least of all stiles. stiles, who constantly saves him from that torture, who gets him out of his head with gentle touches and quiet words of encouragement.

they’ve been together a little over a year when jackson says “i love you” for the first time. stiles has said it a few times before, but jackson wasn’t quite there yet, because it’s not just the first time he’s saying it to stiles, it’s the first time he’s saying it ever.

so here he is, feeling incredibly proud of himself for this massive personal growth, and stiles’ scent goes sweet and he smiles softly as his heart skips a beat, but what comes out of his mouth is “but...why?” so sincere, like he legitimately doesn’t understand. jackson swears he feels his heart literally crack in two, and he loses it.

“god, stiles, you’re the smartest person i’ve ever known but you’re so fucking stupid,” he says, pressing their foreheads together to look him in the eye, noses brushing. he takes stiles’ hand and guides it to his own chest, so he can feel jackson’s steady, unwavering heartbeat. “you’re everything i wish i could be, okay? you are who you are and you don’t apologize for it, or change yourself to please people. you’re gorgeous but you don’t have to try too hard, and you don’t flaunt it just for attention. even though you and your dad have had your issues, you still put in the time and the work to maintain a good relationship with him. everyone you love, you love completely, even though you’re afraid of getting hurt. everything that i fuck up...you do it right, and i respect the hell out of you for that. you make me want to be better. and i am getting better, i think, thanks to you. so shut up and just let me love you, jesus.”

and then jackson kisses him before he can argue. he doesn’t miss the wave of acceptance and content that seeps into stiles’ scent as he sighs happily against jackson’s lips.

OTP derek/hugs

“You attacked me,” Derek says, stooping to help Stiles up again but Stiles waves him off, mostly because he’s not sure if his spine is working yet after Derek flipped him over his shoulder.

“I attacked… what?” Stiles splutters, rolling over onto his belly and then pushing up slowly. He just knows he’s going to be one hell of a creaky old man after all the werewolf abuse.

“You went for a-”

“Hug, Derek. I went for a hug.”

“What?”

“I. Went. For. A. Hug,” Stiles says, overly slowly, making short chops with his arms in the air to punctuate his words.

“I don’t get it.”

“What’s to get? You’ve been hugged before, right? By your family?” Stiles wants to smack himself in the face with his own shoe for mentioning Derek’s family and affection, but Derek still looks confused. “Wait, not even a creepy clench from Uncle Undead?”

“My cousin Rafe would sometimes drop on me from the rafters of the house. That was more an ambush thing.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“We were a werewolf family with human members. We had to be careful. You could hurt someone so easily. We kissed. There was a lot of patting.”

“That sounds really dirty.”

“Stiles.”

“Okay, big guy. We’re trying this again.

“Oh god no.”

“It’s an entry requirement to Scott’s pack of wonder and excitement that you learn to hug the squishies because we like to hug. We Stilinskis especially are cuddlers by nature.”

“How about a hearty handshake?”

“C’mon. This is happening,” Stiles says, this time opening his arms and not advancing on Derek, letting him do the approach because last time Stiles nearly got all his bones broken taking Derek by surprise. When Derek hesitates, Stiles spirit-fingers at him in impatience.

Stiles is just about to drop his arms, tell Derek not to break something because Derek looks like he’s about to strain himself fighting the urge to run far away, when Derek takes two quick steps and is in the circle of Stiles’ arms. For a second, Stiles is so surprised that he doesn’t close the circle. Derek tenses again for flight and that’s what prompts Stiles to bring his arms around properly and squeeze.

“You can hug back. It might be nice to not feel like I’m cuddling a stone pillar.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know you won’t.”

Derek’s arms settle so lightly around Stiles then that Stiles isn’t even sure he’s feeling them until they tighten a little further and then Derek’s nose is buried against Stiles’ pulse point.

“Get a room,” Isaac huffs from the couch next to the windows where he’s getting his ass kicked at Mario Kart by Scott.

“This whole loft is my room,” Derek says, tightening his grip a little further, like he’s worried Stiles will end the embrace but he’s not going to. He learned something very important from his dad. Always let the other person break the hug if they’re the one that needed it.

stiles rarepair week - day 3 - favourite MOGAI/LGBT+ ship - Stiles x Danny

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale/Christopher Argent

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent

Summary:  Chris and Peter plan a camping trip to take Stiles out of town for a weekend, so their young boyfriend can get away from all the stress and pressure at home and in college. Stiles doesn’t expect there to be even more surprises.

Word Count: 1500+

Author’s note: This is a work for Stetopher Week 2019 (Day 1 -  Camping/Burnt Marshmallows/Bonfires)

You can also read this on Ao3!

________________________________________

“Oh, this is exciting!” Stiles was grinning from ear to ear as he grabbed his bag that he had packed for the weekend and followed his boyfriends out of their apartment.

Chris and Peter had planned an entire weekend away from all the pressure and stress in Beacon Hills. A camping trip with just the three of them and Stiles couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

No Scott constantly ranting about the crush he had on that one girl in his Microbiology class – Madeline? Marissa? Maryam? Who even knew at this point! No nagging from his father to finally find someone to be in a real relationship with, no matter how amazing Chris and Peter were to him. But especially no more worrying about his classes and upcoming exams for an entire weekend!

Billy and Steve getting quarantined together was an accident. Billy’s Dad kicked him out IN THE MIDDLE OF A PANDEMIC, he didn’t have a place to go, and after much prodding (and yelling) from the kids, he ended up staying with Steve. 

Day One:

“The hell are you watching, Harrington?” 

“Family Ties.” 

“Ugh. Fuckin, change it. You’ve got shitty taste in TV shows.” 

Day Three:

“Billy! Could you at least fucking put your clothes in the hamper instead of leaving them all over the bathroom floor?”

“Don’t know, pretty boy. Can you put your dishes in the sink instead of leaving them on the coffee table?

Day Five:

“I’m so bored.”

“Oh, you think you’re the only one? The whole country is fucking bored! But hey, call the presses and tell them that Steve Golden Boy Harrington is bored.” 

“…I was gonna ask if you wanted to play cards of something, but you know what. Go fuck yourself.” 

“……Wait! You, uh, any good at Go Fish?”

Day Six: 

“Hahahaha, no way!”

“Yes way, dude! Oh man, you should have seen Miss Johnson’s face.”

“You get in trouble?” 

“Oh yeah. She wouldn’t let me back into the library until I started dating Nancy, since she knew there was no way Nance would cause any trouble.”

“Yeah? You like the goody goodies, Harrington?”

“…sometimes.”

Day Eight:

“Billy? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just uh, nightmare.” 

“Oh…you wanna sleep in here?”

“…Yeah. Thanks.” 

“Anytime.” 

Day ten:

“Come on, Billy, we have to talk about it.”

“Nope. No we don’t. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You kissed me!”

“Did not!”

“Oh, so what, you tripped and your mouth just happened to land on mine?”

“Look, Harrington, It’s not–

“I kissed you back…and I’d kind of like to do it again if you’d stop running away from me for two seconds.” 

“Oh…yeah, I guess I’d be cool with that.” 

Based off this wonderful moodboard. I said I was going to do it and I did it motherfuckers.

Tags: incest, brothers incest, half bro technically but still be wary (strong language used but what'd you expect) hair yanking, kind of innocent peter, underage (idk how to tag so tell me anything else I should add pls)

----

Peter Parker took a deep breath and tried to work the courage to hit the doorbell.

The house - (it's a mansion. A fucking mansion) - had a manicured lawn and white columns with pristine clear windows. There were clipped hedges and a goddamn fountain in front of the red bark door.

Peter shakily checked his slip and confirmed the address before taking one quick breath and ringing the golden door bell.

He stepped back and considered running for it, biting his lip. He should go - he should so go -

The door opened.

Peter started and looked at the man who stepped through. He had dark hair with streaks of grey and white. He was tall and thin with a black suit and gold clips on his wrists (Peter was sure that there was a special name for - cufflinks! They're cufflinks -)

"May I help you young man?" The man asked, looking perplexed.

Which made sense. Peter was wearing a ripped pair of jeans with muddy sneakers and a faded blue hoodie with a dark blue backpack that was worn and torn. It had a phone charger for his phone, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a pair of clothes, and a sleeping bag of sorts.

Peter gripped the papers harder and mess with his glasses, that he didn't need and was just for show, and swallowed hard. "Um. I - I just wanted - I have papers - I - um, yeah. I'm here for Howard Stark...he's...he's my dad..." Peter trailed off, unsure where to go.

The man's eyes instantly narrowed and Peter had a sinking feeling that this guy wasn't going to believe him. Resigned to his fate, he muttered something along the lines of "Sorry for bothering you -" and started to leave when the man stepped inside and shouted something in...Italian?

Peter froze, catching bits and pieces. His mom loved Italy and taught him some Italian but not much. So far though, the conversation seemed to be going his way.

The man returned to him and motioned for Peter to come in. "What is your name young man?"

"Peter." Peter said quickly. "Peter Parker."

The man smiled. "Pleasure to meet you Mr. Parker. My name is Edwin Jarvis. Mr. Stark is currently at his work but I can take you to the genetics lab to confirm your claim."

"Of course!" Peter nodded quickly. "I - I figured you were going to do that."

Mr. Jarvis looked him over for a second before calling out again in rapid Italian. Peter looked around.

The front door opened into a living room to the left and a staircase to the right. There was a kitchen across from the living room and a wall blocking where the food must cook.

The stairs lead up to a second floor that had a balcony hanging out with multiple doors. A hallways was in front of him with more doors.

For a mansion it was really compact.

A lady came out from one of the doors and was saying something to Mr. Jarvis when she noticed Peter.

Peter hunched over, his hair flopping in his face. He was sure he looked unruly and stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the pristine China glasses around him. He tried to remember what Howard did - ran some sort of weapons company right?

" - Mr. Parker?"

Peter shot up and then nervously bit his lip. "I - um yeah?"

"Come with me," Mr. Jarvis ordered politely. He gestured to the door and Peter's heart sank a little. They're probably kicking him out -

"Be home before 5. Get Mr. Stark to come home too," the woman waved by and bustled out of view from the balcony into some whole other area probably.

Mr. Jarvis gently pestered Peter towards the door and Peter took a quick look down that hallway before heading out the door. He was about to head down the driveway and thank Mr. Jarvis for his time when the older man 'ahem'ed and gestured to the car.

Peter swallowed and buckled into the black pristine limo.

~

Peter fiddled with a strand on one of his gloves, picking at the fingerless strand. Mr. Jarvis had brought them to the hospital, probably to check the DNA records but he refused to let Peter out of the limo.

He had been sitting in the sepia looking leather seats for two hours now and there was no signs of it ending. He occasionally glanced put of the tinted windows that were as clear as glass from his view to see if Mr. Jarvis was coming and there was nothing.

Peter was so bored he was reciting chemical equations with ionic and covalent bondings too. If he hadn't trekked halfway across the country, he'd be having a chemistry test right now.

He also would have been at his mother's funeral.

The next time Peter looked out the door, Mr. Jarvis was walking out of the hospital with another man.

Peter's heart leapt at the sight of a dark haired man with dark sunglasses in a black suit marching towards the car with Mr. Jarvis. The man also had speckles of grey in his beard but his hair was a dark color that must've been dyed to look pure dark brown.

Peter swallowed and reached into his curled, slightly longer than he liked, hair to reach for the white strand that he had gotten when he got food poisoning.

It was a long story. And confusing.

Peter scooted to one side as the men got closer, clearly chatting - maybe shouting - about something. The other man didn't look angry per se, he just looked annoyed.

Peter waited as the door was opened and the other man ducked inside. Mr. Jarvis closed the door behind him and moved to the driver's seat. Peter scooted back as far as he could go, pressing to the edge and far away from the other man feeling very off put.

The man took off his hat and brushed a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath and put on a Grammy Award Winning smile and introduced himself, "Hello. You must be Mr. Parker right? My name's Howard. Howard Stark."

"Nice to meet you sir." Peter responded lightly. Mr. Stark titled his head slightly, apparently approving of Peter's manners.

"So, it seems as though you'll be joining the household tonight." Mr. Stark continued on and Peter thought of saying something but Mr. Stark just kept talking. "We'll get your hair done tomorrow along with a wardrobe change. Get everything legalized tomorrow too. If you left any belongings when you left your house, we'll get those as well. We'll have to enroll you into my son's high school -"

"You have a son?" Peter interrupted. Mr. Stark looked a little startled while Peter winced. "I - sorry sir, I just...I didn't realize you -"

"It's quite alright." Mr. Stark looked Peter over. "Do you...know who I am?"

"You're a weapons manufacturer right?" Peter asked.

"Correct." Mr. Stark nodded. "Tony's my son, he's graduated high school already but he likes to hang out there." Mr. Stark made a face. "Don't know why..."

Peter pretended he didn't hear the mumbled part and asked, "How old is he?"

"18." Mr. Stark swelled a little. "Eventually, he'll take over for me."

"Cool." Peter nodded. "Um, also, sorry for...just...showing up y'know?"

Mr. Stark looked at him. "It's fine. Not really, but I can handle it." He thought for a minute. "Tony might not."

Peter's heart sank.

~

Tony didn't like him.

When the got home, Peter was introduced at dinner. Tony peered at him distastefully the whole dinner as they ate ham and Mr. Stark's wife asked him questions. She at least was trying to be polite unlike Tony but Peter got the feeling she still hated him.

Mr. Stark was surprised to learn that Peter had taken AP classes at home and quizzed him on things from quantum mechanics to electronegativity to the functions of bombs to chemical compounds to even astronomy and astrology.

Peter didn't learn much about them but they certainly learned a lot about him. He was pretty shy, stumbling over his words and stuttering a lot.

Tony would continually snort and act like a general snob and everytime he did, Peter felt a stab of pain.

He wanted to be mad at Tony and jab at him too and jeer and throw him looks but 1) Tony was here before him, 2) Peter's a kind person and Tony is his half brother and 3) -

Tony was fucking hot.

He had dark brown hair, styled back, wavy and lush. His brown eyes sparkled in the lights and even with the fiery hate it was still so pretty. He was an AC/DC t-shirt with a leather jacket over it and black jeans that Peter couldn't see.

He had an earring; just a silver hoop in one ear. He had what seemed to be the hint of a tattoo on his neck and his boots would clack against the heels sometimes causing Mr. Stark to glare and Peter to jump a little.

Everytime Tony looked over at Peter, he ducked and tried very very hard not to blush because that would be awkward.

After dinner was over, Mrs. Stark gave Peter a room on the second floor. It was apparently across from Tony's because as he was unpacking he saw Tony heading into the room across from him. He was having a hissed conversation with his mother and it seemed to be a very urgent one but was done so quietly.

Tony suddenly threw a glance at Peter and he quickly looked away, unpacking the last of his stuff. He glanced back over and found Tony gone.

Peter fell asleep uneasily that night, wishing his mom was still alive. He always wanted to meet his real dad but his mom had always gotten angry and over protective. He often found her mumbling, "Stupid decision," and "Big mistake," which definitely did not boost Peter's self esteem.

But right now, he didn't really want to be apart of this family either.

~

It was easy making friends at this new school, surprisingly. Michelle Jones or MJ, Ned Leeds, Harry Osborn, and Gwen Stacey were all pretty similar to him in that they were huge nerds, hard working students, and most of them had a dry sense of humor.

Peter kept his last name Parker and decided to keep his identity mostly secret. He told his new friends but nobody else knew.

The high school seemed pretty generic to him, like any other high school there were the jocks and the nerds and the goths and the punks and the cheerleaders, and so on and so forth. The only odd group out was Tony and his friends.

Those six stood out mostly because they all seemed to be out of high school and yet they were still here. They were the most popular group in that people talked about them, went up to them to ask for advice, or even asked them to go to some sort of party. Those invitations were usually directed towards Tony.

Peter couldn't quite make it out. Tony. He was kind and soft to some while moody and arrogant and a jackass to others. And almost all the time he was cold and calculating and stone faced. Peter couldn't tell if he was faking something or hiding his true self or whatever.

And he was never truly nice to Perer. He did a lot of ignoring Peter. Once he yelled something awful at Peter and Peter tried to ignore that. But what made this whole situation worse was Peter's stupid crush.

Weeks went by and Peter tried his best to just pretend that Tony wasn't there. He tried to do more with Howard since that's why he was here but Howard was always busy. Always off doing something.

That's how he found himself in the living room watching TV. After trying to beg his. father into going to a science museum, he gave up any attempts to keep trying when Howard just left. His step mom gave him an unapologetic look and left the room entirely. His slow dumbass brain only figured out about a week ago that of course Maria Stark has a right to be angry. Peter was younger than Tony meaning Howard had cheated on his wife to create Peter.

He was slouched on the couch, watching the tv with glazed eyes. This isn't what he wanted. This isn't how this was supposed to go.

"What are you - Why are you watching Mickey Mouse?"

Peter glanced to see Tony and just hummed in response not having the energy for a fight. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tony frown slightly at his reaction.

"What happened to you?" Peter didn't respond again and Tony thought for a moment before he smirked. "Dear old dad again huh? Yeah, don't expect much -"

"What do you have against him?" Peter blurted, fuming slightly.

Tony frowned. "He might be my dad but that doesn't mean his nice or attentive. Just suck it up,"

"And what do you have against me?" Peter accused. Tony stopped abruptly to look at him. "I mean, I have an idea as to why, but I want to hear from you,"

Tony glared.

"What?" Peter asked defensively. "I think I have a right to answer that question to put up with all the bullshit you give me -"

"Mom won't like it if you use that language," Tony chided walking over.

"Yeah well she's not my mom," Peter spat.

"No you're mom is just a slut -" Tony responded, flicking lazily at his fingernails. "She's going -"

"She's dead." Peter seethed and Tony stopped to look at him. "That's why your mom won't ever replace mine. Because mine did well with what she had. Mine tried her hardest to make me a good person let alone keep me alive. Mine had to work three or four jobs because she wasn't a rich snob. Mine was fired after finding put she was pregnant. Mine had to go through so much shit that yours wouldn't even begin to fathom." Peter wiped away at the tears before shuffling to face into the couch and away from Tony.

There was a long silence before he felt someone touching his shoulder and Peter turned to see Tony looking halfway between disgruntled and guilty.

"Listen kid," Tony sighed. "I'm not here to compare moms and I don't think -"

"Why do you hate me?" Peter cut off, sniffing. "I just wanted a dad but he wants nothing to do with me. Why do you have to hate me?"

"I - I don't hate you," Tony tried and Peter threw him a dirty look. "Okay maybe a little but come on don't be that dramatic,"

Peter just huffed.

"Good god," Tony suddenly scooped the boy up and Peter yelped at the ease his half-brother used to do so. He was in Tony's lap in a matter of seconds and Tony was sitting on the couch. "I don't hate you. I don't. Just don't like you...maybe more so your mom which...that might not even be her fault in the first place. Dad's always the one fucking around with people. He's just never had to face the consequences before."

Peter barely heard what Tony was saying. He was too busy cuddling in close and sniffing the air around Tony. This was the closest he had ever really gotten and was scared that at any point it would all come crumbling down.

Tony smelled good. Real good.

Shut up, Peter. Peter scolded himself. This was awful. Pure torture. On any other occasion it would be fine to have a crush on Tony but not when the eighteen year old is Peter's half brother.

"Kid?"

"My name is Peter," Peter came back from daydreaming at Tony's voice. He blinked and realized that Tony was looking st him weird. "Erm, Tony?"

Tony smirked, sliding his hand around and Peter squeaked. "Yes, Peter?"

Peter squeaked again, flushing a dark red at the sound of Tony's voice dropping an octave lower. "Uh - Um - Er - what - uh - what are you -?" Peter squaked a third time when Tony manhandled him so Peter was sitting face forward in Tony's lap. Peter's hips were straddling Tony's and at this angle, Peter was slightly taller. "WHA - at are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I reading this wrong?" Tony asked sultry with the slightest hint of concern as his hands crawled up Peter's back and pushed him forward, closer to Tony's lips.

"What are you - What do you mean - What -?" Peter stuttered and his hear skipped a beat when Tony brushed his lips against Peter's.

"What is this anyway?" Tony asked suddenly while Peter's brain tried to reboot.

"I - um - what?" Peter blinked. "Oh the white strand?" Tony nodded. "Food poisoning actually it's weird how - ohhhhhhhh," Tony seemed to get bored and had yanked Peter's chair causing him to groan.

Tony chuckled. "Hair yank kink, huh? Didn't actually expect that,"

"What do you - ohhhhhhh," Peter moaned again when Tony yanked his hair again this time drawing close and smashing his lips to Peter's. Peter squeaked again and Tony used that to push his tongue into Peter's mouth.

It felt so weird and Peter began to instinctively rock, causing Tony to moan - a low rumble in the older one's throat. Peter kept chasing Tony's lips whenever Tony tried to escape, pausing for air. Tony had started laughing at one point but Peter was too busy bring engrossed in the feelings that this was all causing.

And then Tony had slipped his hand into Peter's pants and Peter's yelp was swallowed by Tony's mouth as Tony literally just grabbed his dick.

"Come on baby boy," Tony murmured when Peter pulled away to gasp and shudder. Peter was leaning back now, giving Tony easier access at striking his cock. "Come on, come for me,"

"Ah, ah," Peter couldn't do anything except wiggle and mewl. Tony had used his other hand fo lift Peter's sseathsirt and started sucking and biting all over his stomach.

"...mark you up, show them who you belong to..."

Peter caught a snippet of what Tony was saying and his eyes rolled, thinking he would come from just that.

Tony gave a harsh yank and Peter nearly screamed but Tony clasped a hand around Peter's mouth. Peter shuddered, feeling floaty and almost high. He swallowed hard and Tony let go of him, letting him fall forward.

"Wha...what about...about you?" Peter muttered, haphazardly reaching at Tony's pants.

Tony laughed and kissed the side of Peter's forehead. "Don't worry. You're ass will make it up for me later,"

--------

Taglist: credit to @reniisbooks and then these peeps wanted tagging let me know if you want tagging too @peterparkerismybabyboy @plsstopgivingpetertrauma @narutoyaoifan

PS. The story of the food poisoning and white hair actually came from my comp. thinking teacher cus he got food poisoning and got a white spike of hair in his beard for no reason. That whole idea fascinated me and I wanted Peter to have the same.