Like a spiders web. || P.P · Y/n story by @stqrman

The common room of Avengers Tower was quiet for a late Saturday morning. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, glinting off the polished surfaces of Tony’s minimalist furniture. The only sounds were the distant hum of the city and the soft, rhythmic clicking from the kitchen, where Bruce was methodically preparing a pot of tea.

Peter Parker

shifts on the couch, his head resting heavily against Y/n’s shoulder M’sorry. I know I’m being… a lot. Again.

He hadn’t moved from that spot, or from physical contact, for the past forty-seven minutes. His fingers were loosely tangled with Y/n’s, his thumb tracing absent circles on their knuckles.

Tony Stark

strides into the room, eyes immediately narrowing at the sight Parker. You’re fused to my kid again. I need a crowbar for basic conversation.

Peter Parker

flinches slightly, but doesn’t pull away Hi, Mr. Stark.

Tony Stark

Don’t ‘Hi Mr. Stark’ me. Banner, back me up. This is a violation of personal space statutes.

Bruce Banner

from the kitchen, without looking up I’m not getting involved, Tony. The clinginess-to-comfort ratio seems… stable.

The elevator dinged softly. Natasha and Clint stepped out, both already surveying the scene with practiced ease. Clint’s eyes lit up.

Clint Barton

Oh, are we taking bets? I’ve got twenty on Parker needing to hold a hand just to go to the bathroom.

Natasha Romanov

sighs You’re terrible.

Tony Stark

See? Even the circus act notices. It’s a pattern. A very cute, very annoying pattern.