little ollie

My little age characteristics

1 year

-Drinks out of babas

-makes a lot of random noises

-needs a bib to eat

-wears diapees

-clingy

-whiny

-wants to be held 24/7

-needy

2-3 years

-Babas or sippy cups

-slurs “r” and “c” sounds

-clingy

-wears pull-ups

-says “Dada” just to say it

-chews on everything including my own fingers

-Says “I love you” to everyone

-likes playing peek-a-boo and animal sounds

4-5 years

-Likes coloring

-watches lots of cartoons

-plays pretend with stuffies

-likes playing with cars

-helpful

-likes to test boundaries by saying “No!”

-slurs “r” sounds

-wants cuddles aaaall the time

-amazed by everything

6 years

-Everything disney

-sings a lot

-shy

-loves hugs

-affectionate

-Likes drawing more than coloring

-Likes playing Make over/Dress up

7-8 years

-Plays lots of retro video games

-Watches action cartoons

-likes baking (only with help)

-sings a lot

-likes reading

-likes drawing

-likes playing online dress up games

anonymous asked:

How about Steve picking up the most random hobbies because he was bored.

There’s a familiar face in this one!

____

He wore the baseball hat backwards and kept his sunglasses on and for all the college kids knew, he was just another kid hanging out, dicking around on his skateboard.  

He wore an oversize hoodie, just to be safe. 

It didn’t take him long to get his balance when it came to turns and coasting, but it wasn’t until Markus showed him how that he learned how to land a proper Ollie.  Do an Ollie? Ollie?  He was still figuring the wording out, exactly.  

But he could do one, and he was getting better on the little half-pipe, and sliding along the rails.  Coasting on the rails.  He didn’t remember what Trey had called it, exactly.   Didn’t matter, he was getting better at it.  

It was quietest on Saturday mornings; Friday nights always a big night out for college kids.  He was just warming up and psyching himself up to try one of the more complicated things he’d seen Piper do the other day (she was incredibly creative and wasn’t afraid to take a spill) when he saw a familiar face set a backpack and a board down.

“Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

Steve grinned.  “Lucky guess?”

“Nah.”  Amal smiled. “I’ve seen you fiddling with those shop dollies in Stark’s lab.” He motioned to Steve’s feet.  “And those seemed a little out of character.”

He’d bought a pair of Converse to see what the big deal was and to blend in a little better.  “They’re comfortable.”

Amal smirked.  “So? Show me what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve.  See if I can teach you anything new.”

Steve laughed.  “I only learned The Ollie a couple weeks ago, don’t expect too much.”

“The Ollie.  Oh my God. You geriatric.  Is that like The Charleston?”  

Steve scowled watching Amal try to control his giggles.  “Let’s see what you’ve got then, whippersnapper.”

Amal wiped an eye, still giggling and grabbed his board.  “You got it, Gramps.”

Hero’s Comfort

REQUEST: Can you please make an Oliver Queen x reader, where the reader gets hurt and Oliver takes care of them?? Ps: I absolutely love your blog❤️❤️

A/N: Thank you so much for this request and the lovely words! I had fun writing this. Sorry it’s on the short side, hope you like it!<3 

Originally posted by felicityssoliver

Pairing: Oliver Queen x Reader

Warnings: injured reader, fluff!!!


“This is ridiculous. I just need an ice pack and some painkillers and I’ll be-OW!” you shrieked as Oliver lifted up your injured foot, the swelling around your ankle had now come out and it looked more like a tennis ball than an ankle.

“What the hell was that for!” you hissed, glaring daggers at the man currently  kneeling on the floor as he examined your injury.

He gave you concerned look. “You need this bandaged up, and you need to rest it for a few days. That means no training and no missions.”

You gave him an incredulous look, he couldn’t seriously expect you to be alright with that.

“Oh, come on,” you groaned. “I’ve literally been shot at, chased, kidnapped, arrested- all in the past year while working with you, and you’re putting me out for a freakin’ sprained ankle?”

“Yeah, I am.” 

Keep reading

Lookie Here

Summary: Reader is Alfie’s sister and she’s just every bit as fun as he is.

Characters: Reader, Alfie Solomons, Ollie, Thomas Shelby, ‘bakers’

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 491

AN: This is my first Peaky Blinders Imagine please be nice about it.

Keep reading

A Bit of Madness (pt. 2)

Part 1

The Egos break into a ruckus of shocked shouting and questioning, and Amy begins to cry. She covers her face with her hands and backs away from them, so Wilford steps in between her and the others. “Alright, boys. Nothing to see here. Move along. Oliver! Where’s Oliver?”

“Here,” Ollie says, pushing through the crowd to get to Amy again after being shoved back. “We need a quiet place, somewhere she won’t be bothered.”

“Host?” Wilford ushers the blind man towards Amy as Ollie wraps an arm around her, and Anti glitches inside Oliver’s core so he can come along. “Let’s all go up to the library so that Amy can calm down some, and then we can talk about it.”

He poofs the four of them into the library where Host causes an armchair to appear before leaving to brew some tea. Ollie sits and pulls Amy into his lap where he holds her to his chest and begins singing softly a lullaby he has in his file on her, one from her childhood. Amy continues to cry into his chest for a little while until Ollie begins talking to her, “I know it hurts, but you’re so strong. You’ll see. You’ll see.” He brushes his fingers through her hair carefully to keep it from getting in her eyes.

“I… I found him with someone else…” She shakes her head, and Wilford and Ollie exchange a shocked glance over her head as she continues, “I’ve never seen her before, and I… He didn’t even apologize!” Amy starts crying again, shaking all over as Ollie rubs circles on her back. “He didn’t even look sorry! Wh-what did I do wrong?”

Ollie shakes his head. “No, no, Amy. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He mouths the words, “What do we do?” to Wilford to which the reporter only shrugs.

“It was like looking at a different person.” Amy hiccups and looks up as the Host sweeps in with a cup of tea.

“Here,” he presses the cup into her hands and holds them there for a moment. “Amy feels the muscles of her shoulders and neck relax and unwind. Her mind clears of negative thoughts, and she breathes in and out slowly until she’s calmed down again.”

Oliver feels Amy relax and lets her sit up so she can enjoy her tea. Once she’s finished the cup and calmed down properly, she wipes her eyes and looks up at the Host and Wilford with a wry smile. “Sorry about that. I must look like a mess.”

Wilford kneels down beside her with a smile. “No, n… well, yes, but you’re our mess.”

Amy laughs a little and tweaks Wilford’s nose. “Oh, you.”

Wilford wiggles his mustache and offers her a hand. “My lady.” Once she’s on her feet, Amy realizes just how tired she is, leaning against Wilford for support. “Host? Take her back to get some rest.” Wilford hands Amy off to the Host and turns around to head for the door. “I’ve got to take care of something…”

 

Wilford slams his hands down on Dark’s desk. “We’ve got to do something about this! How can you be so flippant?”

“Because I don’t care, Will. She’s not one of us.” Dark gets up and walks over to the window. “She’s not even Mark’s girlfriend anymore apparently.”

“But think of what will happen to the channel if word of this gets out. The fans love Amy, and they’d launch Mark into the sun if they thought he hurt her. That can’t be good for us.” Wilford watches Dark square his shoulders in realization and grins. He’s got him now. “Not to mention that there might be some who’d blame you for this, certainly the other Egos might. You weren’t there when she arrived, and they might find that rather suspicious.”

“I wasn’t there because I refuse to…”

Dark is cut off when Green knocks on the door and enters. “Delivery, sir.”

“Well, let’s have it then,” he reaches towards Green, and the android puts the crisp envelope into Dark’s fingers. Wilford passes him a dagger with a grin, and Dark slices the letter open before drawing out the contents and reading it. A change comes over his face suddenly, and he drops the letter and jumps back.

Wilford snatches up the piece of paper from where it hit the floor as Dark falls into his desk seat and reads it for himself, “You’ve been… cordially invited to Poker Night at Markiplier Manor.” Wilford looks up at Dark with a feeling of pure horror stabbing at his gut. “Not again…”

anonymous asked:

WAIT WAIT WAIT SO DOES THIS MEAN HE'S NOT ACTUALLY WITH SYCO AFTER ALL AND ALL THAT WEIRD BULLSHIT WITH THEM NOT OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCING IT IN ANY MEANINGFUL WAY IS BECAUSE OF THIS DISTRO DEAL??????????? BECAUSE PRAISE JESUS HALLELUJAH

No, he didn’t sign a traditional record deal with Syco, he works with them through a distribution deal which is what most BIG artists does, people who are already very famous and whose success is basically guaranteed for the label. Like Beyonce, Harry, etc., the artists do this to have way more control over everything regarding their projects and the money they make out of it go to them directly while the label only gets a 20%. He is not in the Syco roster as an artist (like Olly Murs, Little Mix etc.), he has this deal with them through the 78 Production and he’s the only owner of it (with Dan). Halleuljah indeed. 

Accidents Happen (Episode 12/?)

Peter Paker x Pregnant!Reader

A/n: Security Ed… Can you guess who he is? *Wink*

Also, I’ve never personally birthed a child! Therefore, google was my best friend about most of the facts given! Blame google if I’m wrong!

Videos mentioned: Amazon Commercial // Sad cancer video

Warnings: Teen pregnancy, birth talk, literal shit, etc.

Accidents Happen Masterlist // Main Masterlist


 

35 weeks pregnant! Your baby is the size of a honeydew melon!

Oh, how you couldn’t wait to be done with this pregnancy.

You had a few more weeks until your due date, but there was no more room in your fucking belly. You felt like you were going to explode, pretty fucking soon. Jesus, Y/n, lighten up. Just a few more weeks. No. You couldn’t take this anymore! Your feet hurt, your back hurt, your boobs hurt, your boobs were leaking, you had to pee every ten minutes…

Okay, Y/n, stop complaining.

Okay, you were right… you were complaining.

You had a lot of help, and a lot of support. Not a lot of sixteen-year-old pregnant teenagers had the same, and you were so fucking grateful. You had the freaking Avengers, Aunt May, Michelle, Ned, Peter… Sometimes you even had your mom, when she answered the phone. She was still a little pissed about being in the public spotlight. It made her a little easier to deal with, though, since she was forced into trying to be better – or face the wrath of the public.

The Avengers had chased a few leads on Sean, but nothing solid. They chased a lead to northern Africa, Canada, and somewhere in Russia. Nothing. All dead ends.

As much as they tried to make you feel better about it, it still made you paranoid. You had a baby on the way, and you didn’t want to bring the baby into a world where someone was trying to hurt them. You didn’t want this child to lose a parent, because Sean had it in his head that you were his property.

These were all things that you had started talking to your therapist about.

Yeah. Therapist.

Now, you didn’t mean to be a jerk about seeing a therapist. It helped you, a lot. It was just… different. Different having someone unbiased about your situation to talk to. To have someone who had your best interest in mind, but wasn’t crazy with the need to protect you. Not that you didn’t love your family any less for the need to protect you… You just liked having someone from outside the situation to talk to.

Also, your boyfriend. You were happy that you and Peter were doing great, again.

You were back in your room, and you and Peter talked more than you did before your fight. You’d even decided on a few different baby names for each gender, and what you were going to do for school. You’d decided to just do online schooling, since it wasn’t safe for other students for you both to be in a populated setting. HYDRA was obsessed with you, now.

It made you more empathetic towards Bucky.

You understood why he was so paranoid, now.

It felt so… violating – having people who were so obsessed with the thought of possessing you.

“Babe. Why the hell are you crying?” Peter stopped in the doorway of the living area, Ned and Michelle trailing behind him. He had a bag from Meixiu’s restaurant, containing the wantons and noodles that you were so desperately craving.

Oh, yeah.

You were having an emotional day.

“B-because!” You hiccupped, pulling your blanket around you, tighter, while snuggled on the couch. “T-the stupid commercial on the TV, Peter! The baby was a-afraid of t-the puppy! T-then the dad bought t-the cute little lion mane from A-amazon, and then the baby wasn’t a-afraid, anymore!” You hid your face in the blanket, another small sob escaping you. “I think we need a p-puppy!”

“We do not need a puppy.” He chuckled, plopping down on the couch next to you and pulling you into his side. “We don’t even know how to take care of a baby, yet. Let’s wait on that.” Your reply was muffled by the blanket and his chest. “I didn’t hear a word you said, Y/n.”

“W-what about all the puppies in the shelters, Peter?” You sobbed, throwing your arms around him. “T-they need homes, too!”

“I think you’re just emotional.” Michelle chuckled from the love seat, a few feet away. “Didn’t Peter have to console you, a few days ago, about a ‘try not to cry’ video on Facebook?”

“Yeah, for like… three hours.” Peter laughed, rubbing your back. “She was a mess.”

“The sister had cancer!” You sobbed, tightening your arms around Peter. “It was sad!”

“Didn’t you cry at that video, too, Michelle?” Ned piped up from the other side of Peter, spreading out all the food on the coffee table. “Pretty sure I caught you crying at that, too.”

“I don’t cry.” She raised an eyebrow, glaring at Ned. “And you cried, too, jerk.”

“You bet your ass, I did!” He chuckled, throwing the couch pillow at her, lightly. “It was a sad video! I have a heart, unlike some!”

“See!” You defended, stealing a wonton from Peter’s bowl and taking a bite, “I’m not that bad.”

“Babe, you cried to Natasha because you couldn’t reach your legs to shave them.” He shook his head, “Then to Tony about how he treats his little robot. Then to Steve and Bucky about their friendship-”

It’s heartwarming! They found each other!” You slapped his arm, grabbing your bowl of food, and leaning away from him. “‘There is nothing on this earth more to be prized than true friendship.’ Thomas Aquinas.” You shoved a wonton in your mouth.

“You and your random quotes.” You heard from behind you, “Also, I do not treat my robot like an asshole, thank you very much. I give constructive criticism.”

“You’re mean to him. He’s misunderstood.” You defended, turning around to face him. He was dressed casually – in jeans and a band tee – and was covered in grease. “You look like a mess.”

“Thanks, Juno.” He rolled his eyes, scratching his signature goatee, “Actually, I have an opportunity for you and Spiderkid.”

Spiderman.” Peter mumbled, taking a bite of his chicken.

“If it’s another experiment, then no thank you.” You shook your head, “Last time, you yelled at me for needing to pee. I’m pregnant. I have a baby squishing my bladder.”

“Excuses nothing.” He waved his hand, pulling up something on his watch. “We have a team bonding exercise, today.”

“What is it, this time?” Peter asked, wary, tightening his arm around you.

Last time they did ‘team bonding’, the team thought it would be hilarious to nab Peter’s phone and post stupid shit on his social media – causing an uproar in the public, and damn near giving Nancy a heart attack.

Especially when they posted a picture from Peter’s phone with a beer in the background.

It was Steve’s beer, but the public had assumed that there was some delinquent shit going on, and freaked out – forcing Steve to defend Peter and say that the beer was his.

Not a fun few days.

“Babies 101.” Tony smirked, clicking a button on his watch, then crossing his arms. “Ed – the one from security – his daughter has two small rugrats, and teaches child development classes. He called her, and she offered to teach us all the basics of babies.”

You raised your eyebrows in shock, “You all are going to learn about babies? Why?”

“I figure that if we are going to have a mini-Avenger running around, we may as well know how to take care of said mini-Avenger.” He shrugged, “You kids have a lot on your plate. You’ll need some help. Plus, the rest of us are adults, and should at least know the basics.”

“That’s… nice of you.” You say, still shocked. “You’re never this nice. What have you done with the real Tony Stark?”

“Shut the hell up, Juno.” He flicked you on the shoulder as he nabbed a wonton from the coffee table. “Ed said he would come get you when his daughter and grandkids get here. We’ll be doing this in the big conference room.” He started strutting out of the room, “You kids prepare for the mission of your lives.”

You grabbed Peter’s forearm tightly, in a sudden panic, “Oh, my god. I don’t think I’ve ever actually held a baby before.”

“How hard could it be?”

—-

“This is my youngest daughter, Lilah.” Ed introduced the small woman to the team, holding a little toddler in his arms, “And this here is my grandson, Oliver Allen. Can you wave hello, Ollie?” The little dark-haired boy hid his face, tightening his arms around Ed. “The littlest one, Veronica Rose, is sleeping in the car seat.”

You were sitting in one of the front chairs, getting a clear view of the tiny baby snuggled in a blanket, “How old are they?”

“Ollie is two and a half, and Veronica is nine weeks old.” Lilah smiled, setting up a Power Point from her computer, “How far along are you?”

“Thirty-five weeks.” You groaned, running your hand along the top of your bump, where your baby was snoozing, “This baby needs to hurry up, and come out. I don’t think my body can take any more.”

“You’d be surprised what your body can take.” She laughed, turning to Peter, who was in the chair next to you. “Have you watched any videos about birth?”

He grimaced, gesturing to you. “She makes me watch them. All of them.”

“Good thing I do, too.” You glared at him, crossing your arms and resting them on top of your protruding belly, “I’m preparing you for when your child exits my body.” You huffed in annoyance, “I’m not going to have you faint at the sight of the baby coming out. You’re going to need to follow the baby, while they take all the other nasty shit out of me.”

“I wouldn’t faint.” He scoffed, knocking his foot into yours, lightly. “I didn’t flinch at the videos you forced on me. While I was eating, might I add.”

“Whole new ballgame, bud.” Clint laughed from across the table, “A lot messier in person.”

Peter swallowed thickly, keeping quiet.

“Are there any immediate questions anyone has, before we begin?” She called to the room, watching as Ed sat in the chair on my other side.

“I have a question.” Natasha leaned forward in her chair. “Y/n was wondering this, a few weeks ago.” Oh, no. Jesus, Natasha. Start out with the crazy questions. “When you have a child, does your vagina go back to the way it was, before?”

You swore you saw every guy’s eyes in the room widen, and face pale.

Well, except Clint, who was smirking at the entire group.

“Great question, actually.” She clicked on her computer a few times, finding a slide. “No vagina is the same, but it does go back to a normal size. It isn’t true that you’re a cavern, after birth.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Some women say that sex feels a little different after childbirth, but if you keep up with pelvic floor exercises – or ‘Kegels’ – you’ll be fine.” She gestured to the slide, which explained what Kegals were, then gestured to the bottom of the slide, “You also want to refrain from sexual intercourse until about six weeks after birth. Not that you’ll want to, in the beginning, anyways. Everything is usually too sore.”

“How bad is the pain?” You asked, dreading the answer, “Dr. Nguyen is a guy, so he couldn’t tell me from personal experience.”

“That’s the question I receive the most.” She laughed, clicking to another slide about pain management. “You have quite a few options when it comes to pain management. You could do Regional Medication – more commonly known as the epidural – which is medication that is administered directly to your nerves near your spinal cord by an anesthesiologist. This was the option I chose, with both kids. It ‘numbs’ your lower body, but not completely. It’s more pressure, than anything. Still hurts like a sonofabitch, but not as bad, in my opinion.”

She gestured to another option. “Systematic Medications are injected into your bloodstream or a muscle to the entire body. I had a friend who was given Nubain, after she was in a car accident, and she felt like she was on street drugs. Which they are narcotics.”

She gestured to the last option, “Or you could forgo pain medications altogether and try to have a natural birth. Not necessarily guaranteed to be pain free, but there are things – like ice chips and baths – that help.”

“Holy crap.” You leaned back in your chair. “So, I either inject drugs into my spine, take narcotics, or go natural?”

“Depends on your birth plan.” She handed you a worksheet, “Which brings me to my next topic.”

You were so overwhelmed with information. You didn’t know how you were going to remember everything. There were so many different options for pain management, positions to push in, what they did before, during, and after the birth…

You had no idea what you were going to do.

Thankfully, after about an hour of discussion, everyone moved onto the little kids.

They were so incredibly cute, you could barely stand it.

Once you grew comfortable with holding Oliver, you tried holding the baby – switching babies with Peter, who seemed to be the most natural motherfucker when it came to holding babies. He barely even looked phased! He didn’t look scared at all, as you’re internally screaming! Your hands were shaking like crazy! You did not want to drop a child.

When you finally had the snoozing baby positioned on your chest, you felt your lip wobble. Fuck. Tears. You tried to blink them away, but that just made them start to fall.

“Y/n, why’re you crying?” Ed asked, next to you. He frowned, concerned. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You used the hand that wasn’t under the baby to wipe your eyes, leaning back in your chair so warm, little Veronica wouldn’t move from your chest, “I just realized that I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, and I have maybe five weeks to figure everything out.”

He smiled, eyes crinkling, “No one is ever really prepared for babies. My wife – may God rest her soul – was absolutely terrified. She’d practically raised her siblings, but when it came to her own children… she had no clue what to do. Neither did I, for that matter.” He rested a hand on your shoulder, “You learn as you go along. There is no such thing as a perfect parent, and there is no such thing as a perfect child. All you can do is try your hardest, and love your child with every fiber of your being.”

You sniffed, looking down at the small child who was drooling on your shirt. “Thanks, Ed.”

“I have a granddaughter about your age.” He chuckled, handing you a soft blanket to put over Veronica, “If I wasn’t around, I’d hope that someone was able to give her advice like I do to you kids.”

“You do give us a lot of useful advice.” You chuckled, smelling the baby’s fine hair. “Oh my god, babies smell so good. Makes me want mine out, so bad.” Suddenly you got a whiff of something not so pleasant, “Oh shit, I think she pooped.”

“Do you know how to change a diaper?” Lilah asked, suddenly next to you. When you shook your head, she grinned, “Looks like it’s baby changing time!”

Oh, god! You’ve never even held a baby, before this – let alone changed a freaking diaper! You’d seen plenty of tutorials on Youtube, and took the fake baby home in middle school – the one that was supposed to cry at you, or whatever – but that was nothing compared to a real baby!

“Peter, you get to help me!” You called out to him, since he was playing with Oliver across the room. “You’ll be changing diapers, too! Not just me!”

“This is going to be good.” Tony laughed from across the table, a pamphlet about gassy babies in his hands, “FRIDAY, please record this experience.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.” The AI replied.

You glared at Tony, “Have you ever changed a diaper, before, either?”

“Nope.” He smirked, fiddling with the pamphlet and checking his Stark Watch. “Go on, then, Juno. Change the diaper.”

You turned to Peter, who was finally standing next to you. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Neither do I.” He assured, a hand resting on your chair. “We’ll figure it out.”

After taking the blanket back, Lilah set the changing mat on the table in front of you, and you stood – the waking baby still in your arms. You gently, holding her little head, laid her down on the mat – terrified that her head was going to hit the mat too hard, even if Lilah claimed that babies were not as fragile as they seemed.

As you pulled off her little leggings, Veronica let out a small cry that immediately made you freeze.

“Don’t worry, she just hates getting her diaper changed.” Lilah urged us on, standing on the other side of you – where her father was sitting previously. “Now, just undo the snaps on her onesie, pull it up, and pull the tabs on the diaper. Be sure to have the wipes ready, because she will wiggle around. It’s not fun getting poop all over your hands.”

You made sure to follow her instructions, trying not to breathe in as you changed the shit-filled diaper. You could see the entire group of Avengers chuckling and recording on their phones, some – most – making disgusted faces.

“Yeah, yeah,” You groaned, putting the diaper on the wriggling baby as securely as you could, “Laugh it up. Bunch of jerks.”

“You have successfully changed your first diaper, Pachen’ye.” Natasha was filming you, grinning behind her phone, “How do you feel, you two?” She looked between you and Peter.

“Nervous.” Peter shook his head, “Babies are so tiny.” He leaned down, picking up the freshly changed Veronica, who seemed to snuggle right into Peter’s arms. “I think this ‘Babies 101’ was a good idea, though.”

You stared at Peter with a small smile spreading on your face. He looked really good holding a tiny little baby in his arms. You had a feeling of warmth in your chest, and your baby rolled onto your right side. “I think the baby is getting jealous of little miss Veronica, here.” You laid a hand on the little lopsided area of your belly, “The baby keeps rolling around and kicking me.”

“Don’t worry, little one.” Peter handed Veronica off to Steve, who looked terrified of the little baby, and crouched down by your belly. “Once you’re out, you’ll see me so much that you’ll get sick of me.”

The baby nudged around at the sound of Peter’s voice.

“Why is it that the baby only gets excited at your voice? No shits given when I talk, but starts ninja kicking me if you’re around.”

“We discussed this.” He smirked, looking up at you, “My voice is better than yours.”

“Shut your face, Parker.”

Babies 101 was a great idea.

You still had your doubts about your ability to raise another human being, but at least you had some more knowledge than before. It was nice to be able to talk to a woman about child birth and raising a child.

Not that Dr. Nguyen wasn’t knowledgeable.

It was just the fact that he was a guy, who didn’t go through childbirth, breastfeeding, and all that.

After the class, Tony decided to rent out the back of some fancy restaurant. Which meant that you, not only, got to go out in public – but that you got to dress up.

You wanted to go see Meixiu, since you hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, but Tony insisted that they go to this new restaurant that he was told had the best steak around.

You had an amazing night, anyways – even if you didn’t get the food you were craving. Peter looked hot in his fancy clothes – which you made sure to get plenty of photos of him, because damn – you got a new dress from Nat, Aunt May came along, and you were finally out of the damn tower.

“Do you think we should get married, someday?”

WAIT…

WHAT?!

Did he just ask-

You turned to Peter, who you could see in the lamp-light was staring up at the ceiling, in your shared bed, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“I-I don’t know. Do you want to?” You stuttered out, completely thrown by the random question. “I think the bigger question is do we want to get married, someday. Not if we should.”

“That’s what I meant to ask.” He turned over, laying on his bare stomach, and grabbed your hand, playing with your fingers. “I’m not asking about getting married right this very minute. We’re only almost seventeen.” He sat himself up a little more on his elbows, pressing a small kiss to your knuckles. “I’m just asking if you would want to in the future… because… well… I w-would want to.”

“Well,” You smiled, a huge fluttering feeling in your belly, that didn’t come from your baby, “I love you, and you’re my best friend. Why wouldn’t I want to get married to you in the future? ‘Don’t marry the person you think you can live with; marry only the individual you think you can’t live without.’ James Dobson.” You threaded your fingers with his and gave them a little squeeze, “I don’t want to live without you. Yeah, I want to marry you in the future.”

He grinned, scooting forward so he was leaning over the top of your reclined form, trapping you into the mattress with his arms on either side of you. “I love you.” He leaned down, pressing small kisses along your cheekbone, causing you to giggle. “Even when you’re crabby at me.”

“I was not being crabby!” You laughed, squirming as he moved to your nose and other cheek. “Your cute, freckle-face is just annoying, sometimes.”

“I thought you said you loved my face?”

“I said your hot bod, not your face.” You squealed as he buried his face into your neck, “Plus, you buy me food.”

“So, you’re just using me for my body, and my money, huh?” He leaned up, staring down at you and raising an eyebrow, “Ouch. My poor heart.”

“Life’s tough, sweetheart.” You leaned up, kissing the tip of his nose. “Not all of us are blessed with beauty, like me.”

“Can’t disagree, there.” He leaned into you, pressing his warm lips against yours in a fevered kiss.

You lived for these moments. The happy moments. The ones where it didn’t matter that Sean or HYDRA were still out there, or where the public hated the idea of their superhero being a teenage father.

What mattered were the ones where you could talk to Peter about anything. The ones where you could joke around with him. The ones where you got to kiss him…

The moments where you were a little family.


Tags: (Still Open!) (Under the cut!)

Keep reading