Irondad & Spiderson Oneshots

Beating Hearts

Well would you look at that? I appear to be obsessed with writing a) soulmate aus and b) post-endgame ficlets ,, hope you enjoy and thank you for reading ! <3 

This story vibes like canon divergence but operates like a complete au. Be prepared for complicated and sketchy magic systems and storylines! XD

 If you have any Irondad oneshot ideas, feel free to comment about what I could write! Have a great day/night!

Bye :)

Peter liked Zap.

Screw it, he thought it was a fun nickname for his soulmark.

Placed delicately on one of his ankles, as everyone's was, Zap was a tattoo of a tiny, intricate hammer, surrounded by a circle of red and gold sparks (hence the name).

On his other ankle, the right one, Peter had another soulmark- what everyone called the "Self" soulmark. A rounded and bright red heart was supposed to represent Peter himself, and could be found on the left ankle of his soulmate, his living human match.

Peter often found himself engrossed in thoughts of who's Self soulmark could possibly be Zap, and who could be staring in curiosity that very second at their own little heart mark.

Peter had had these tattoos as long as he could remember. They never faded when rubbed up against countless socks or under the showerhead.

They never faded the days he used to come home wanting to tear them off; on a few rare occasions, trying to.

Coming out aroace at fifteen was, unfortunately, another opportunity for kids at MidTown to pick on Peter, and he carried around the sinking feeling that corresponded on a day-to-day basis. Peter prayed by night that his marks were platonic, that they belonged to someone he could love in return.

They were a single reminder of someone out there- a companion, a friend, a someone- made for Peter and for Peter only.

-----

However, Peter's ponderings about his marks and who his soulmate could be dwindled to the backburner as life as Spider-Man took the front seat.

The Vulture. Interning. Neighborhood gangs. Thanos.

Coming back after five years of, well, not existing? It was weird as hell for Peter. He felt like he'd always struggled finding steady ground in life, and now it was totally worsened.

He sat outside of the Compound's Med Bay, a place he'd been a good handful of times because of what Tony called his "reckless and youthful abandon". This time around, though, he waited for someone else, sitting anxiously, leg bouncing rapidly.

He desperately wanted to contact May, Ned, or MJ, but he didn't have his phone; it was probably long gone by now. He figured the same for his friends.

God, Peter thought selfishly, I hope they're still the same age. Dying at the hands of that monster wasn't something he wished on anyone, but the possibility that his only friends and his last relative all grew up without him these past five years was utterly unbearable.

Especially considering his mentor was in the operating room that very moment, Peter knew he couldn't lose anyone else.

Miss Po- Mrs. Stark, Peter corrected in his head- chose that moment to walk out to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"How are you holding up, Peter?" she asked softly. She'd been carefully but subtly looking out for him all day, taking him back to the Compound after the battle, trying to fill him in on everything and rouse him out of his stupor. Peter appreciated it, what with everything else she probably had going on.