Ok so like I think Roadhog and Junkrat are both probably really good at chess?? theyre always missing pieces though so they need to write down some of them on paper slips (They make silly bets every game too)
Prompt: can you do one where the reader is Tony’s daughter but he doesn’t know the reader and peter are together and he tries to set he reader up with a close friend or whatever and Peter gets jealous ??
You wake up with your neck aching and your hand resting on something soft and warm. As your eyes slowly open and register your surroundings, you find yourself looking at the piles of books that you and Peter had abandoned during the night. Speaking of Peter, you were half tucked into his side, his slow breathing dusting the side of your neck.
You smiled softly, sitting up to move the books off of your bed and snuggle deeper into Peter, wrapping your arms around him and surrounding yourself with his warm scent.
The alarm comes on what feels like seconds later, jolting the two of you awake. Peter groans, rubbing his eyes. You’re already sitting up again, slamming your hand on the alarm to stop the obnoxious beeping as your heart rate begins to return to normal.
“What time is it?” He moaned, halfway through a yawn.
“Um,” you checked the clock. “6:30. You better get out of here before my dad gets up.”
Peter curses, beginning to gather his books from the floor and running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. You took a moment to appreciate him; the rising sun through the window painted him multiple shades of gold and his messy hair waved over his forehead. His voice was low with sleep, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he looked at you.
“I really didn’t mean to crash here last night, sorry Y/N.” You were already rolling his comments off.
“Oh, please, you know I never mind.” You grinned at him, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek.
Your smile was reciprocated on his face. “What time did we even fall asleep last night?”
You began tying your hair up, thinking back to the previous night. The last thing you remembered was leaning against the palm of your hand as your eyes began to shut with exhaustion, Peter’s fingers absentmindedly twisting a strand of your hair, listening to the gentle sound of his voice as he talked you through the equation again. “I have no idea.”
The sound of a door shutting heightened awareness in both of you as you exchanged wide-eyed looks. “I really gotta get out of here.” Peter finished cramming the last of his things into his backpack, pressing a kiss to your forehead before turning to leave. You grabbed his wrist before he could leave, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before pressing your forehead to his.
“I had a nice time last night, Parker.”
“I’ll see you at school, Y/N. But now I really have to go, you know I don’t want to but if Tony Stark catches me in his daughter’s bedroom this early in the morning, we’ll have some problems.”
You laughed, pushing his chest away. “I’ll see you later, Spiderman.”
The last thing you saw before Peter’s head disappeared behind your door was his blinding smile, dimples and all, before he was gone.
By the time you came into the kitchen, coffee was already waiting for you on the counter. Your father was seated, scrolling through the news on his tablet. “Late morning, Y/N?” He didn’t even have to look up.
You grimaced. “Yeah, big science test today. I stayed up to study.” You sipped your coffee, reaching to grab cereal from the cabinet.
“You didn’t forget about tonight, did you?” You freeze, looking questioningly at him.
“The Thompson’s are coming over tonight, we have to talk business but they have a son for you to entertain.”
You made a face. “Entertain?”
Your father shrugged at you, his familiar boyish smile tugging at his lips. “One way or another, he needs to be distracted. I’ve heard he grew into quite a handsome young man, who knows what could happen?”
“Dad…” You groan, nudging his shoulder with yours. Ever since you had asked him to not be opposed to the idea of you dating, he had done a complete 180 and insisted on “looking out” for you everywhere he could, doing everything short of designing your dating profile.
If only he knew that you were dating possibly the only boy that he wouldn’t want you to date.
The dinner was going fine, if not achingly slowly. Harry, the son that was supposedly your age, turned out to be a year older. He was actually quite good-looking, with strong features, and might even have been your type if he hadn’t had all the personality of wet cardboard. He didn’t seem to really want to discuss anything with you other than his mission trip to Haiti and his future in his father’s business, but he smiled along nicely enough to hear your own ideas on what you wanted to do after school.
After dinner, Tony took Harry’s parents into his study for “adult mumbo jumbo”, as he so fondly referred to it, leaving you and Harry in the living room alone. You wanted desperately to take off the unfortunate heels you had chosen for the occasion, but Harry’s stiff gaze didn’t quite make you feel comfortable enough to do so.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” You suggested, your cheeks almost hurting from the smile you had glossed over it. You were desperate to avoid struggling through more discussion.
“Yes, I would love that. Do you have any documentaries you would like to watch?”
You half thought he was joking, but his choice of a political documentary about George W. Bush’s presidency proved you wrong. You weren’t sure if it was your late night with Peter catching up to you, or just the nature of your ever-so-boring company, but you felt yourself becoming more and more exhausted.
When the doorbell rang, you were more than excited to answer. “I’ll get it!” You announced, although Harry hardly glanced at you and you weren’t entirely sure who else would answer it. You checked the monitor on your way to the door and were surprised to find your boyfriend on the screen.
You swung the door open excitedly, already feeling your mood brighten at the thought of even a few minutes in Peter’s company.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” You felt frenzied, almost too excited to have an excuse to leave Harry.
“Oh, uh, I was just testing these for your dad and he said I could drop them off today, I just got off work.” Peter held up a bag, presumably of new tech for his suit. “What’s the occasion?” His eyes roamed over your makeup, stronger than it had been at school, and the dress and heels you were wearing.
“Are those my gifts I hear?” Your dad’s voice rang from behind you. “Ah, yes, Mr. Parker, I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
You stepped aside so Peter could come in, finding yourself facing the Thompsons and Harry as well. Peter set the bag down, surveying the scene before him.
“Right! How rude of me. Angela, Brian, this is Peter Parker, one of my scientists in training.” Tony addressed Harry’s parents, although you’d never heard him introduce Peter like that. “Peter, this is the Thompson family.”
Harry stepped forward, his posture admirably straight. “I’m Harry Thompson, please to meet you.” His hand gripped Peter’s so intensely that you cringed from your position. “I take it you and Y/N are friends as well.”
Everyone’s eyes went to you, and you felt an involuntary blush warming your cheeks.
“Yes, Y/N and Peter are good friends from school.” Tony’s smile brightened just a bit. “You know, Harry, I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind making other close friends, if you’re interested.”
Harry nodded. “Noted, sir.” You made immediate eye contact with Peter, trying your best to express how little you wanted Harry to be your “friend”. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, staring at the ground like he was trying not to draw attention to the sting of being called just your friend. You felt it too.
It didn’t take long for your father to use his social prowess to escort the entire group out at the night drew to a close. By the time the door shut, his entire face shifted.
“Dear lord, could those people be any drier?”
Had he made that comment any earlier in the evening, you would’ve laughed in relief and agreed heartily, but all you could think of was getting to Peter and explaining.
“Yeah, although I just remembered that a friend borrowed my notes and I really need them back before tomorrow, I’m just going to go grab them okay? Thanks, Dad.” You spoke so quickly that you weren’t even sure he knew what you said, but he waved you off.
“Oh, and Y/N?” You stopped just short of the door, turning to face him. “I’m one of the world’s most famous geniuses. Give me a little credit with the excuses, okay? Just don’t come back really late from wherever you’re actually going.”
You smiled at him. “I won’t.”
The drive to Peter’s seemed to be much faster than you remembered, but soon enough you found yourself standing on his stoop, your knuckles rapping on the door. He answered in his pajamas, clearly confused to find you there.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Peter, let me explain, I-”
“Oh yes, please do explain to me how I seemed to have interrupted quite the little date between you and some other guy tonight. I’d love to hear it.” You winced at the hurt in his voice. “Look, Y/N, what’s th-”
You couldn’t take it anymore. You surged forward, your hands seizing around his shoulders and pulling him in for a strong kiss. His hands tightened on your waist, and you almost began to lose yourself before reminding yourself what you had to say.
You broke it off, looking straight into Peter’s eyes. “Tonight was one of the most boring nights of my entire life, Peter. I was thinking about you the whole night, I couldn’t wait until Harry left so I could text you literal direct quotes of all the terribly boring things he said to me.” Your hand found his and you intertwined your fingers with his, bringing them to your lips. “Peter, I-”
He kissed you before you could say anything else, his hands buried in your hair. You eagerly retaliated, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. He ended the kiss, grinning ear to ear.
“I want to tell your dad about us.”
You laughed, pulling him closer. “Well, if you would let me finish, I was just getting there, Parker. I want to tell him too. He loves you and I can’t imagine why he would turn this down.”
You almost didn’t get to finish your sentence before he was kissing you again.
You ever get so bored that you feel like you could kill 27 people and then mail their body parts to the police station?
Serial killers do. Get that bored, I mean. The whole deal with psychopaths is that their brains don’t handle dopamine correctly. That’s the chemical that makes you feel pleasure. They get so starved for stimulation that they keep trying crazier and crazier shit just to fight the boredom.
What does this have to do with 2017 America? Am I saying that Donald Trump is a serial killer? No, of course not.
Hey, you know what happens when you read something really enraging on the internet? You get a hit of dopamine. And even though it’s a “bad” feeling, you immediately want to feel it again, because anything is better than being bored. Well, people who know how to manipulate this mechanism rule the world. Here’s what you need to know now.