spideyandstark:

amber474:

thwip-thwip10:

Okay, so you know how Aunt May is Italian? That means that peter is part Italian too, and we ALSO know that Tony Stark is part Italian as well. So I keep on imagining Peter working with Tony in the lab and then just out of the blue, Tony starts complaining about his work in Italian, and Peter understands what he’s saying. So, a little cinnamon roll he is, would reply to Tony in Italian as well. Then Peter and Tony would just pause and look at each other in disbelief, with their father-son bond unexpectedly increasing a lot more. After that little event that occurred, Peter and Tony just casually talk to each other in Italian whenever they wanted to. (And it definitely helps when they want to talk to each other for any private matters) So yeah, can someone PLEASE make a fic out of this cause no one has yet? Thanks ❤ 

SOUNDS ADORABLE

Peter’s curled up on the couch, subconsciously chewing on the end of a pencil, his brows furrowed as he works on a particularly tricky maths question. He can’t seem to focus tonight; every time he hears the whirring of police engines he gazes sharply out of the window, and Tony, from his workshop, barely skips a beat before launching himself into a lecture on the importance of maths.

(”Really, Mr. Stark? When have you ever used the cosine rule?”

“Shut up, I’m working.”)

Peter eventually finishes and stretches out on the sofa, sighing and rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He glances at a clock, and it’s only 9:17pm. He stands up and wanders into Tony’s workshop, pulling up a stool next to him and resting his head on his chin as he tiredly scans the Spider-Man suit Tony’s working on. The man doesn’t react to him being there; he drags a hand through his hair and breathes out and haphazardly flits between tables. Eventually he realises the thing he’s looking for has been on his worktable the whole time, and he frowns and walks back over to it in a haze. Peter’s surprised at how tired he seems.

“Mr. Stark? You don’t have to work on my suit.”

Tony waves a hand dismissively. “Gotta fix this parachute.”

He’s been working on that since Vulture dropped Peter in a lake. He’s searching for a way to make it easily detactable, but only to Peter, but only when Peter’s really in danger so he doesn’t do it by mistake, and he wants a way for the parachute to reinstall itself, or to alert Tony when the parachute needs reinstalling, or –

“Mr. Stark?” Peter waves a hand in front of his face.

Tony blinks. His vision blurs. He gazes at Peter. “Yeah, kid?”

Peter grins. “Vai a letto.”

“Wh-what?” 

The boy’s cheeks flush red. “Sorry, you were speaking Italian to yourself, I think, so I said ‘go to bed’ -”

“Ah,” murmurs Tony. “Tua zia.”

“Yeah, May!” Peter affirms excitedly. He seems a lot more awake now, pushing himself up on his stool, his palms pushing into the desk. “This is awesome, Mr. Stark, we could have like, secret conversations and stuff!”

Tony smirks. “Secret conversations, huh? Like what?”

Peter bites his lip as he contemplates the question. Then he says: “You know! Like – like I could be like ‘hey Mr. Stark, a cosa stai lavorando?’ and you’d be like ‘é un segreto’ and I’d be like ‘sì, è per questo che ho chiesto in italiano!’ And then -”

Warmth spreads through Tony’s chest as he continues listening to the kid. He smirks and ruffles Peter’s hair. He continues rambling excitedly, and the constant switch between American to Italian accents is honestly rather entertaining. 

“Alright kid,” grins Tony. “Promettimi questo.”

“Yeah?” Peter’s eyes are shining.

“We’re gonna annoy the shit out of Pepper.”