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marvelous-writer · 1 year

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Blipping Back to the Future

Summary:

Everything happened so fast, Peter truly doesn’t remember exactly how they got to the hospital. One minute, Dr. Strange was at Tony’s side, then he was tossing a change of clothes Peter’s way—which he still has no idea how he got in the middle of the crumbled remains of the Avenger’s Compound but he’s grateful for them so his identity doesn’t get blown—and the next, they’re stepping out of a portal inside of a hospital’s ER.

Peter followed closely behind Pepper and Rhodey as a team of nurses wheeled Tony towards the ICU double doors, only to be stopped by a nurse when she noticed Peter following.

The nurse put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him as she looked at him with a mixture of concern and worry at the sight of his face. “Family only beyond this point.”

“But I’m-“ Peter tried, but the nurse shook her head.

“Family only.” She repeated in a finalizing tone.

As they wheeled Tony into the ICU through the double doors, Peter managed to catch a glimpse of the uninjured side of his face before the doors closed, completely blocking Peter off from him.

(Febuwhump Day 1: Touchstarved, Day 2: Flinching and Day 3: Alt #3: Soft Words)

Word Count: 5,658

Genre: whump, fluff, angst

Link to read on AO3:

Peter splashes cold water on his face to clean all of the dirt and blood off, watching it all swirl around in the sink’s drain before it goes down. He blinks a few times, droplets of water falling from his eyelashes as he turns the water off, standing a little straighter to look at his reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall.

He looks like shit.

Bruises and cuts litter his face and he can see the beginning of a black eye forming around the corner of his right eye judging by how red and puffy it is. The fight against Thanos and his army really did a number on him. His whole body aches terribly, especially in his arms and legs, and not to mention the horrible headache he has from all of the blows he took to the head.

But he could care less about himself right now.

All he cares about it Tony.

Peter feels his chest tighten at the thought of him, a flash of Tony’s injured and burnt face coming to the forefront of his mind as he lay on the battlefield after using the Infinity Stones, moments away from dying right there. He can almost still feel Tony’s hand, desperately squeezing his wrist when Peter had stayed at his side in the rubble where he was laying… dying.

Peter followed closely behind Pepper and Rhodey as a team of nurses wheeled Tony towards the ICU double doors, only to be stopped by a nurse when she noticed Peter following.

The nurse put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch, stopping him as she looked at him with a mixture of concern and worry at the sight of his face. “Family only beyond this point.”

“But I’m-“ Peter tried, but the nurse shook her head.

“Family only.” She repeated in a finalizing tone.

As they wheeled Tony into the ICU through the double doors, Peter managed to catch a glimpse of the uninjured side of his face before the doors closed, completely blocking Peter off from him.

That was two hours ago.

The only thing Peter has been able to do is sit around in the waiting room for any updates on Tony’s condition. He knows Pepper and Rhodey must be too consumed with everything going on with Tony to come out to update him and the nurses and doctors are too busy too—not that they would update him anyway. He’s not related to Tony, at least not biologically.

Or maybe there isn’t any news because Tony… didn’t make it.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut at the terrible thought as he grips the edges of the sink, feeling sharp spikes of pain in his hands.

Tony is strong.

He��s going to make it.

He has to.

Breathing out a long breath through his nose, Peter lets go of the sink as he opens his eyes back up and reaches for a paper towel from he dispenser on the wall, drying his face, wincing at the horribly rough material rubbing against his sensitive skin. When he’s finished, he turns around and heads back to the bathroom door and opens it, being met with loud voices, beeping machines. Doctors and nurses rush through the crowded hallways, tending to patients left and right, now that they have more patients on their hands with so many people returning from Thanos’s snap.

It’s honestly absolute chaos.

Peter carefully walks through the hallway, stepping around people and avoiding bumping into anyone as he heads back over to the waiting area. More seats have opened up in the past twenty minutes he’s been in the bathroom, which he’s grateful for. Peter heads over to the corner of the waiting area, choosing a seat with the ICU doors in his sight. He sits down and stuffs his hands into the front pocket of the hoodie he’s wearing, biting the inside of his lower lip as he watches the set of metallic double doors.

And to make matters even worse… he doesn’t even know where May is. He had tried calling her on one of the hospital’s phones earlier but he only got an automated message that said the number was no longer in service. He would have gone out to look for her but they’re in a hospital somewhere Upstate… he couldn’t leave, just in case anyone came looking for him with any news on Tony.

Did May crumble to dust like he had on Titan? If she did… where is she now? She must be so scared and confused. But what if she didn’t? Where is she now? Is she even still alive?

Peter swallows past the lump slowly forming in his throat, willing himself not to break down into tears. He’s lost so many people in his life, first with his parents, and Uncle Ben… he can’t lose Tony and May too.

He just can’t.

…

It feels like hours pass by as he sits in the waiting area, watching doctors and nurses passing through the ICU doors, but no one glances his way. He still doesn’t know how Tony is doing or… if he’s even still alive. Peter has never felt so lost, alone and scared before in his whole life. At some point, he gave up on holding back his tears any longer, feeling the occasional one slip down his cheeks.

Peter lets out a shaky sigh as he brings his legs up to his chest on the uncomfortable chair and rests his forehead on his knees, keeping his arms close to his chest. All he wants, more than anything in the world, is for Tony to make it and for May to be alright.

More tears slide down his cheeks as he squeezes his eyes shut. He’s so tired, hungry and sore, Peter wishes he could lie down and sleep. His head is throbbing so much and so hard, it feels like it’s going to burst at any minute.

He wishes that he could go home. He wants to be in May’s ams in one of her tight, warm, comforting hugs and for her to tell him everything’s going to be okay.

He wishes that Thanos never got the horrible idea to wipe out half the universe to begin with and none of this would have happened.

Tony would have been okay right now and Peter and May would probably be at home right now, watching reruns of their favorite shows while eating Tai take-out for dinner.

“-anything you can tell me? I am—yes--“ Peter’s enhanced ears suddenly pick up on a familiar voice.

He opens his teary eyes and raises his head, squinting against the bright LED lights around him. His eyes scan the large space around him at all of the people, until his eyes land on a tall figure standing at the nurses station across the room.

“—Yes—I got a call that he was in the ICU—anything you can tell me?” Peter overhears the person saying, his eyes widening in realization.

He knows that voice.

He would know it anywhere.

Peter throws his legs down to the floor and quickly stands up, ignoring the way his body painfully protests against the movement. He walks out of the waiting area and across the hallway, stepping around people as he gets closer to the person, who he can’t get a good look at yet with all of the people standing around.

“I can call the room for you to see if we can get you in there,” He hears a woman at the nurse’s station say. “What’s your name, sir?”

Peter manages to get through the crowd of people and is now able to see the side profile of the person standing only a few feet away from him.

“H-Happy?” He calls out.

Happy turns his head with a frown and when he sees him standing there, his eyes widen in either shock or surprise. It takes him a few seconds before Happy blinks, he moves away from the desk as he takes a few slow steps towards him.

Peter is now able to see new goatee Happy is sporting, one that he’s never seen before, as well as a few grey hairs in it. Happy still looks like himself but… just slightly older.

He didn’t get dusted. Peter suddenly realizes.

“Peter?” Happy asks in utter disbelief once he finds his voice, looking at him like he’s a ghost. “Is… is it really you?”

Peter manages a small, shaky smile as he nods. “Y-Yeah. It’s really me.”

Happy quickly rushes across the rest of the space separating them and before Peter knows it, a pair of strong arms are wrapping around him in a tight, warm hug.

“Oh my God,” Happy breathes out. “They did it. They actually did it. Thank God.” He says in a relieved voice, hugging Peter a little tighter.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut as he all but melts into Happy’s arms. For the first time tonight and after everything—coming back from being dusted by a mad titan, finding out he and half the universe have been dead for five years, fighting against said mad titan and his alien army, getting beaten to a pulp, and watching Tony snap the Infinity Stones and almost die right in front of him—he finally feels safe and not alone anymore. A sob escapes from Peter’s mouth as it all starts to truly sink in.

“I’ve got you, Pete,” Happy tells him in a reassuring voice, feeling his hand cup the back of his head. “I’ve got you.”

Peter feels more tears slide down his cheeks as he lets his head fall against Happy’s shoulder.

They stand there for quite some time, just long enough for Peter to run out of tears. Happy pulls away first and Peter can see that he was crying as well. The only time Peter can remember ever seeing him cry was when they watched The Rise of Skywalker together and Happy cried when Princess Leia died. And Peter can totally understand—he shed quite a few tears during that scene too.

But this time… it’s different.

“How did you get here? Are you okay? You look terrible, Pete.” Happy asks in a worried voice as he gently brushes a finger against his swollen, right eye.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Dr. Strange portaled me, Rhodey, Pepper and… and Tony here.”

Happy’s brows pull together in confusion. “Dr. Who?”

“Oh—I’m sure you’ll meet him.”

“But how long have you been here? Have you been here by yourself? Why aren’t you in there with Pepper and Rhodey?” Happy asks worriedly, changing the question.

“Um… I-I wasn’t allowed to. I’m not… family,” Peter says before clearing his throat. “It’s been a few hours. I… I haven’t heard anything…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

Happy’s brows pull together in an angry frown. “That’s the furthest thing from the truth, Pete. You damn well should be in there and I’m going to make sure I fix that,” He says before he lets out a small sigh, his face relaxing. “Pepper called me a while ago and told me Tony was still in surgery.”

“Surgery?” Peter asks, is brows raising in concern.

“Yeah,” Happy sadly says with a nod. “She wasn’t able to fully explain the situation to me… but with how badly his arm is injured… the doctors are doing their best to save his arm. Dr. Cho is on her way now with her Cradle machine to hopefully help.”

Peter’s chest tightens at that. Yes, he knows that Tony is in bad shape after using the stones but… the thought never crossed his mind that it would cost Tony his arm. Tears begin to slowly pool in his eyes once again.

Happy places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, seeming to notice his mounting worry. “Tony’s going to be okay, Pete. You know how stubborn he is.”

Peter shakily nods, unable to speak with the lump growing in his throat.

“But for now, we should get you—“

“Uncle Happy?” A small voice suddenly says, interrupting him.

Peter looks down, only to see a little girl standing at Happy’s side. She looks at Peter with her all-too familiar brown eyes before she shyly moves closer to Happy, a little behind his legs to shield herself. Immediately upon looking at her, Peter can tell that she’s not Happy’s daughter. But who is she? And why is she with him?

“Morgan, I want to introduce you to someone very special,” Happy says in a soft voice, one Peter has never heard him use before, as he kneels down to her level. “Morgan, this is Peter,” he says before he looks up at Peter, smiling. “Peter, this is Morgan.”

Peter looks back at her, meeting her bright, brown eyes.

And that’s when it hits him, so suddenly like a slap to the face.

He would know those brown eyes anywhere.

Morgan… is Tony’s daughter.

As he realizes it, the more he’s able to pick up on Tony’s features in her small face. He already can tell that she’s also Pepper’s daughter, seeing features of her’s as well, like her nose and a few other things. But Morgan definitely looks like Tony.

Her father.

Peter stands there, too stunned to speak for a moment as he stares at her. "S-She's- Tony's-" He starts to ask but his voice somehow gets lost in his throat.

Happy nods with a knowing expression, the corner of his mouth turning up into a small smile. "Yeah."

Peter blinks a few times at Happy before looking back at Morgan, forcing his achy knees to bend as he kneels down in front of her.

“H-Hi, Morgan.” He greets, feeling like his voice is lost in his throat.

“Hi,” Morgan shyly says, leaning against Happy. “Daddy told me you were gone for a long time… are you staying now?” She asks.

A cold shiver races down Peter’s spine at the question. He’s still not one hundred percent able to believe that he and half the universe was wiped out for five whole years. “Y-Yeah.” He answers, nodding as he forces himself to shakily smile.

Unless Thanos comes back.

Fear flows through him at the sudden, terrifying thought.

“Why don’t we head in to see what’s going on? I know that Pepper could use the company right now.” Happy asks, causing Peter to meet his eyes.

The only thing he can do is nod.

Happy stands up and Peter follows, wincing as pain radiates through his knees and legs from the movement. He can only imagine how banged up his legs are underneath the sweatpants he’s wearing. Happy bends down and picks Morgan up, holding her by his side as he starts to walk in the direction of the ICU double doors. Nerves pool in Peter’s stomach as he follows closely behind, feeling like he’s doing something wrong by going in with them.

“Family only.” The nurse’s voice from earlier echoes through his head.

Happy pushes one of the doors open with his free hand and steps inside but Peter stops, hesitating.

He shouldn’t go in.

He doesn’t have a right to.

“Family only.” The voice echoes once again.

And he’s not sure he can see Tony right now, as badly injured as he is and laying in a hospital bed, connected to a bunch of machines.

But all of the times he’s been hurt and sick himself, Tony has been there for him every single time, keeping a bedside vigil over him.

If Tony can do it for him, Peter can do it for Tony.

“Pete?” Happy’s voice takes him out of his thoughts, causing Peter to look up at him with wide eyes, meeting Happy’s concerned ones.

Peter swallows hard as he steps through the doorway. Happy offers him a knowing look as he wraps his free arm around his shoulder, leading him down the hallway. The hallway isn’t as crowded as outside, but it’s louder, somehow. Peter winces as his ears are bombarded with different sounds, hearing beeping heart monitors, the whooshing sounds of ventilators, people crying and coughing, and a lot of other horrible sounds. It almost makes him want to cover his ears with his hands to make it stop but he resists the urge as he forces himself to keep walking.

As they near the end of the hallway, Peter can see Rhodey standing outside of a room, looking in through the glass window by the door. He turns his head when he hears them coming and steps away from the window, looking very solemn.

“Hey.” Happy greets as he stops before the windows, probably so Morgan doesn’t see inside yet.

“Hey,” Rhodey greets back, sighing at the end. He looks at Morgan in Happy’s arms and offers her a small smile before he looks back at him, his smile dropping. “He just got out of surgery. Pepper’s in with him now.”

“How is he?” Happy asks with a concerned frown.

Rhodey lets out another sigh, worriedly glancing at Morgan, who has no idea what’s going on, before looking back at Happy. “It’s… too early to tell at this point. Pepper or I will fill you out later, but for now, why don’t I take Morgan down to the gift shop?”

“Can we get Daddy a teddy bear like Monty?” Morgan asks in a soft voice, seeming to perk up at the mention of the gift shop.

“I’m sure he’d like that a lot,” Rhodey say, offering her a smile as Happy passes her to him. “And maybe we can find a nice balloon too?” He asks her as he starts to walk back up the hallway where they came from.

Peter almost wants to follow them as dread continues to pool away in his stomach.

Happy takes a few steps over to the window and looks inside the room and Peter watches as his face falls, his brows pulling together. Peter forces himself to walk over and look inside the dimly lit room, his eyes landing on the hospital bed almost instantly.

The sight he’s met with causes Peter’s breath to be lost in his chest, feeling his eyes warm up with the promise of tears to come.

Tony is laying on the bed, connected to a bunch of beeping machines and an oxygen mask covering his face. His unnatural, ghostly pale skin stands out against the white sheets and dark bruises surrounding his face. Pepper is sitting in a chair beside the bed, looking at Tony with such a sad and heartbroken expression on her face, holding Tony’s uninjured hand.

Peter’s face pulls together as tears pool in his eyes, causing his vision to blur.

If he didn’t know any better… he would honestly think Tony is dead.

He feels Happy’s hand wrap around his shoulders again, gently rubbing his arm reassuringly. They both remain silent as they stand there for a few long, silent moments. He can see Pepper sitting in one of the chairs at Tony’s bedside, looking at them for a moment before she gets up and walks over, wiping tears from her eyes. She opens the door and steps out into the hallway, offering a small, sad smile to Peter and Happy.

“Oh, Peter.” She says as she reaches out and wraps her arms around him in a hug for a few long minutes before she pulls away and goes to Happy, hugging him as well.

“How’s he doing?” Happy gently asks as they pull away.

Pepper lets out a sigh as she wraps her arms around herself as she takes a look back inside the room through the glass window with a sad expression on her face before she looks back at them. “He’s… he’s holding on. The doctors said it’s a miracle he’s…” she trails off, looking at Peter.

Peter feels his chest tighten again at her words.

It’s a miracle Tony’s still a live, is what she was going to say.

Pepper closes her eyes for a few seconds before she lets out a sigh. “Dr. Cho was able to save his arm—thank God. But he has a long road to recovery ahead of him.”

“H-He’s going to make it though, right?” Peter asks in a hesitant tone.

Pepper looks unsure how to answer his question for a moment as she stands there. "I…I don’t know. I truly hope so. But… his body has taken on so much damage. The doctors are all saying that it’s too early to tell,” She says before reaching out and placing her hands on his shoulders, offering him a small, sad and knowing smile. “But Tony’s strong and you and I both know how stubborn he is.”

Peter nods but he’s unable to return her smile.

Not with the possibility lingering in the air of Tony not making it out of this.

Pepper’s brows pull together, her smile dropping. He can see her eyes starting to water up against the bright hallway lights.“And I just want to tell you, how truly sorry I am for you not being allowed to come with us into the ICU when we got here. I tried to have a nurse get you but I don’t think they could with how slammed they’ve been. Rhodey and I couldn’t leave to get you because we were taking to the doctors and—“

“It’s okay. I understand,” Peter gently interrupts her. “Your place is here and you couldn’t leave. I was okay.”

“Your place is here too, Peter. And I know that Tony would tell you the same thing right now. I can’t even put to words how much you mean to Tony—to all of us,” She tearfully says as she wraps her arms around him in another hug. “I’m so happy you’re back.”

Peter looks at the wall behind her, his brows pulling together at that. It feels like he had only been gone for a few minutes, only to wake up on Titan and find out that he’s been dead for five whole years.

It’s a lot to take in.

Too much, even.

But now with everything happening to Tony… Peter would give anything for him to be okay.

Peter closes his eyes and leans into her, letting himself sink in the warmth of the hug. They stand like that for a few long moments before Pepper is the first to pull away. She wetly sniffs, wiping her teary eyes.

“Do you want to see him?” She asks, looking between Peter and Happy.

Peter glances at Happy.

“You can go in first.” Happy tells him.

“A-Are you sure?” Peter asks unsurely, his stomach tightening.

He almost wants to ask Happy to go in with him.

“Yeah,” Happy says with a nod. “I think you need a minute with him.”

Peter wordlessly nods as he steps to the door, hesitating for a moment before he puts his hand on the cold handle and opens the door, stepping inside the dimly lit room. He blinks a few times to get his eyes adjusted to the lack of bright LED lights from the hallway as he slowly walks over to the bed. The room is eerily silent, save for the multiple beeping vital machines and the soft hissing of the oxygen mask covering Tony’s mouth and nose.

Tony’s face is motionless as Peter stands at the side of the hospital bed, looking down at him. His face is paler, up close, deep bruises littering his face. Bandages cover the right side of his face with angry red, damaged skin peeking out from underneath.

Peter swallows around the growing lump in his throat as he stands there, feeling a bunch of emotions running through him all at once. He remembers when he was six years old, standing at the front door watching his parents leave after they dropped him off with Ben and May. He recalls that horrible, unknowing and nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched his parents drive away… not knowing if they would ever return.

But they never did.

And right now, looking at Tony… Peter feels the same as when he did then, all of those years ago.

Tears well up in his eyes as he looks down at the man, who has over the years become way more than just a mentor to him. Tony has become a father to him, in every sense of the word.

Peter reaches a hand out and gently places it on Tony’s, mindful of the IV in his hand. He doesn’t understand why Tony used those stupid stones. It could have been anyone else that used them to wipe Thanos and his army out. Why did it have to be Tony? Knowing Tony… it was probably the only option at the time and he knew it.

Whatever the reason… it’s not fair.

Tony has a life now—a wife and daughter—he shouldn’t be lying in this hospital bed right now, possibly dying.

He has so much more living to do—so many more things to accomplish.

It’s not fair.

Tears spill down Peter’s cheeks as he squeezes his eyes shut, his brows pulling together.

“I’m sorry, Tony.” Peter whispers, only to be met with the sound of the beeping machines and hissing oxygen in response.

…

Hours pass by and Peter hasn’t been able to leave Tony’s side, sitting in one of the chairs next to his hospital bed, refusing to sleep, even though his horribly achy body begs for it. Happy and Pepper have in the room a few times before stepping out to talk to doctors and to discuss the next steps of Tony’s revering process. Peter knows he should leave so he can go out and look for May, but he can’t find it in himself to leave Tony’s side.

“I’m going to make a few calls and see if I can get ahold of her. I’ll call her work, the apartment—I’ll even drive over there myself and look for her, Pete. Whatever you need, I’ll help. We’ll find her, okay?” Happy had said to him a while ago.

They tried calling her phone a few more times, only to get the same recording Peter got earlier that her phone number was no longer connected.

“I’ll have FRIDAY run facial ID scans for her. If she’s in the city and walks by a traffic camera, FRIDAY is going to know about it. We’ll find her. I promise.” Happy told him.

It’s been an hour since Happy left the room, leaving Peter alone with Tony. He finds himself wondering if this is how Tony has felt, all those times Peter’s been hurt and in the medbay.

It’s absolute torture.

The uncertainly and heavy tension in the air is almost suffocating.

But Tony’s silence is the worst part.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” Peter says, breaking the silence of the room. He clears his throat from not speaking for so long. “I’m sorry I stayed on that spaceship when you told me to go home. I…I just wanted to help. But… I don’t regret it. I…I couldn’t leave you alone—to fight alone. I’m just sorry I wasn’t strong enough to rip that gauntlet away from… from him…from Thanos,” He says, almost unable to say the mad titan’s name. “If I was… none of this would have happened and all of those people… they wouldn’t have diedbecause of me. And you… you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.” Peter manages to get out, blinking more tears out of his eyes.

He’s met by more silence in response.

Peter hangs his head as he looks down at his hands, wetly sniffing as waves of guilt flow through him like an angry ocean during a hurricane.

I wish it had been me that used the stones. He thinks to himself.

From the day he became Spider-Man, all he’s managed to do is screw things up. First it was Ben’s death, screwing up on patrol, getting hurt countless times, ruining Liz’s life by getting her dad thrown in jail, messing up Tony’s life with how much he gets into trouble and stresses him out, and even Happy too. Happy never signed on to babysit him and it’s unfair that he’s had to all this time… well… all those years ago.

All Peter has done in his life is screw up.

Maybe… he could have righted those wrongs if he had acted quicker and spared Tony from all of this.

Tears slip down Peter’s cheeks as he sits there, guilt hanging over him like a dark cloud.

…

Consciousness slowly comes back to him as he feels a hand in his hair, slowly carding through it. For a moment, he thinks he’s at home in bed and it’s May’s fingers in his hair, waking him up for school.

Peter groans as he forces his heavy eyes open, slowly blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision before he realizes he fell asleep leaning on the edge of Tony’s hospital bed. No wonder why his back aches so much from the horrible, slouched position he’s in. He frowns, feeing the fingers in his hair, only to roll his head to the right, only for the air to leave his lungs.

Tony is awake and looking at him with an exhausted but fond expression on his face.

“Y-You’re up,” Peter says out loud in shock. “H-How long have you been up for?”

“A little while,” Tony tells him, his voice coming out a little raspy. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

Peter blinks at him in shock, a wave of emotions rushing over him but relief is the strongest one. His eyes start to water as he stares at Tony.

Tony manages a small, tired smile as he lifts his good arm and rests his hand against the side of Peter’s face. “I can’t believe you’re here… you’re actually here and this isn’t a dream.”

Peter blinks, feeling tears slide down his cheeks as he smiles, nodding. “I’m really here.” He tells him.

“You’re really here,” Tony repeats and Peter can see tears filling in his eyes as well. “Come here, kiddo.” He says as he drops his hand and holds it out in invitation for him.

Peter stands up from the chair, holding back a wince as his body painfully protests against the movement as he leans down and carefully lowers himself for Tony to wrap his arm around his back.

“You’re really here.” Tony whispers again in a tearful voice.

Peter lets his head rest against Tony’s chest and inhales the familiar and comforting scent of his cologne, even with the sterile hospital smells all around them.

…

Voices break through the darkness surrounding Peter, causing consciousness to slowly come back to him. Peter feels his face pull together, letting out a displeased groan from being woken up, although… he doesn’t remember falling back asleep.

Fingers card through his hair for a few long seconds and Peter can almost feel himself falling back to sleep from the calming sensation of it.

“Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty.” A familiar, amused voice softly says from nearby.

Peter’s face pulls more together as he manages to crack his eyes open, blinking against the sudden onslaught of sunlight from the windows across the room. As his vision clears, he’s met with a face he feared he’d never see again.

“May!” He exclaims, his eyes widening in shock.

May smiles warmly at him and he can see the unshed tears in her eyes. She’s wearing her hair up in a messy bun, wearing a Stark industries sweatshirt with leggings. Peter carefully sits up, mindful of the wires Tony is attached to as May meets him halfway in a tight, warm hug. Relief flows through Peter in waves, so powerful, that he feels his chest tighten as his eyes fill up with tears.

“Oh, my baby…” May breathes out in relief. “I saw you on the news with those-those aliens… and then you went up into the ship. I-I didn’t know what to think a-and then I… I… crumbled into nothing,” May pauses for a minute, squeezing Peter a little tighter. “And when I came back, there were strangers in our apartment. Everything looked different. And they certainly were shocked and confused to see me there.”

“B-But how did you get here?” Peter asks, blinking tears out of his eyes as they pull away from each other.

“Happy found me—and just in the knick of time, too. I was so confused and I didn’t know where you were and then, boom. There was Happy, coming up the apartment stairs.” May says with a smile.

I’ll have to thank Happy later. I really owe him. Peter thinks to himself.

“But the important thing… is that we’re all here together.” May says.

“Yes.” Tony agrees in a relieved tone from behind Peter.

It’s honestly a miracle that they’re all here together. Peter honestly thought that Tony was going to die after everything he’s been through and May… he thought she was lost forever. But thankfully, neither of his fears came to light.

Everything is so messed up and confusing right now… but Peter knows that he’s going to be okay and get through it all with his family by his side.

And he’s going to be there for them too, every step of the way.

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whumper-at-heart · 7 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Avengers Team Members & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner Additional Tags: Tony Stark Whump, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt Peter Parker, Iron Dad Spider Son, Irondad, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Family Feels, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, can be ignored, if u dont ship it, Plane Crash, Rhodey To The Rescue, Hurt Tony, Self-Sacrificing Tony Stark Series: Part 1 of Tony Stark Whumptober 2023 Summary:

When peter and Tony's plane crashes in he middle of nowhere , tony does everything he can to keep peter safe and sacrifices the necessities for his on survival in the process. tony whump peter whump whumptober day 1 theme: swooning

#whumptober 2023 #no.1 #swooning #iron man #spiderman #the avengers #fic #hurt tony #tony whump #tony stark whump #peter parker whump #iron dad #irondad spiderson

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jinxquickfoot · 8 months

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@badthingshappenbingo prompt: Zip Ties

Find the fic on Ao3

TWs: Attempted rape, non-consensual bondage, date rape drugs, past abusive relationship, gaslighting

Tony doesn’t know how he ended up here.

He’d been… somewhere. Now he was… somewhere else. Somewhere soft. And someone’s touching him. He can’t remember the last time someone… It feels nice.

Wait. Not nice. There’s something sharp digging into his wrists. His arms are yanked up above his head, pulling on his shoulders.

There’s someone touching him.

A too-hot hand brushes his cheek, a weight settling over his legs. “Come on, Tony. This isn’t going to be any fun if you’re unconscious.”

That voice. He knows that voice. That voice shouldn’t be anywhere near him.

His eyes flutter open, everything too bright, blurring his vision. He’s on a bed. In a room he doesn’t remember traveling to. And that hand is still touching him.

It’s not the hand that had been touching him when he’d last been awake. That hand had been slender, the manicure fresh and expensive, grabbing onto his arm with a slightly too-loud laugh. Tony had seen right through her—he was at a charity benefit, alone, the news of his and Pepper’s breakup now very public. There were endless guesses for what she could possibly want: a job, a news story, an adventure to brag about to her friends.

Tony hadn’t found it in himself to care. Even though he had no intention of going anywhere with the mystery woman, she was doing all the work of carrying the conversation, and all he had to do was smile and nod in the right places.

And she was touching him. She was careful about it, keeping it friendly, but it felt electrifying every time her side brushed his, or she grabbed his wrist when he told a joke she pretended to find funny. He knew he’d made his appearance, done some sorely needed good press for the Avengers, and that he was good to excuse himself and head back to the Compound.

But he had stayed. Because his choices were to stay here, soaking up the first friendly touch he’d felt in months, or head back to the Compound where Pepper no longer visited and where barely any of his teammates were talking to him.

It had been months since the Accords had been revised, enough so that the imprisoned Avengers were released and able to carry out their duties once more, if with UN supervision. Tony had stood back and watched as the old rivalries healed over. Vision’s love for Wanda hasn’t seem to have diminished after she sent him plummeting through a building. Clint and Natasha acted as though their scuffle on the airport tarmac had never happened. Even Rhodey managed to joke around with Sam and Scott as though his last encounter with them hadn’t caused him to fall from the sky, Tony unable to catch him in time.

Yes, everyone had managed to make amends. Except him. After what had happened in Siberia, Tony was now sure there was no going back to the way things were before Ultron.

So he hadn’t even questioned it when the woman who had been nice to him all night pressed a drink into his hand. He’d downed it in one, intending to call Happy for a ride until he remembered that he was busy watching over Peter as per Tony’s request. A cab, then. Give the driver a good story of getting to drive a drunk Iron Man home. So much for gaining some good press.

It was the last thought Tony remembered having as he stumbled to the bathroom, shrugging off any concerned bystanders. He at least thinks he managed to get his phone out, he’d contacted… maybe not a cab, but he’s sure he sent a message to someone.

“That’s it, wake up, Tony. I’ve got a present for you.”

The words aren’t from the woman who had spiked his drink. The world around Tony finally comes back into focus, he has to move, he has to get away—

He rears upwards, trying to shake the weight from on top of him, but all he succeeds is twin stabs of pain in his wrists. He cranes his neck, panic intensifying when he sees a pair of thick zip ties binding him to a headboard.

Tony swallows, trying to regain some control over the situation. He’s not nineteen anymore. He’s survived much, much worse than Tiberius Stone. “Five seconds to get these things off me, Ty, and maybe I won’t be bothered to press charges.”

The words just earn him a laugh, Stone reaching out to stroke his cheek even as Tony jerks his head away. “Come on, you used to like this.”

“You liked it.”

“Don’t twist the narrative. You used to beg me to tie you up.”

Tony grits his teeth, trying to slip his wrists free. Bondage had never been Tony’s cup of tea, but Stone had liked it, so Tony had acquiesced—initiated it even, anything to try and keep him happy. And during the odd time he hadn’t really been in the mood, enough to fight back, he’d get How can I be in a relationship with you if you don’t even trust me, Tony?

“Time’s have changed, Ty. Media is a lot jumpier now around the idea of consent. You really want this on the front page tomorrow?”

“I own the front page,” Stone dismisses him. “Besides, like anyone's going to disbelieve that you weren’t down for this. You are literally a self-described playboy, Tony. Dramatic as ever.”

Tony yanks on the restraints, trying very hard not to think about the last time he was zip-tied to a bed, watching a holographic image of Pepper scream in agony.

“Besides,” Stone continues, and Tony freezes as he watches him pull out a syringe from his pocket. “You’ll be fine once you loosen up a bit. Some things never change.”

Tony can’t remember the last time he’d had sex with Stone while sober. The more resistant Tony had become, the more Stone had started bringing weed home, or encouraging Tony to take just one more shot at parties, that he just needed to loosen up. “You’re lucky I put up with you,” he’d always say once they were finished, lying next to each other in bed, Tony feeling an odd mix of relief that he’d gotten the sex out of the way combined with a sick feeling in his stomach that he’d never quite been able to name. “Not everyone would be so patient, you know.”

Stone reaches over, looking for a vein.

“Don’t you dare.” Tony tries to kick out, he’s an adult now, he’s an Avenger for god’s sake, this shouldn’t be happening, but all Stone has to do is kneel over his legs as he grips Tony’s arm. “Ty, wait, don’t—”

Stone pauses, looking more confused than anything. “I dumped you, Tony. This is me giving you a second chance. I know you always wanted that.”

And the horrible truth is, there’s a very small part of Tony that feels flattered, relieved even, before he hastily pushes it down. “I don’t.” He almost adds, I never did, but they’d both know he’d be lying.

“You do,” Stone corrects him, sounding completely sure of himself. “Same old Tony. Just got to let down those walls, and then I can take care of you.”

And he plunges the needle into Tony’s skin.

Tony Stark: Might need some help with a girl.

Steve’s been staring at the text for the past ten minutes.

He has no idea what it means. FRIDAY had been able to tell him that Tony was attending a gala that evening, apparently not bothering to invite along anyone else on the team, even Rhodey. Rhodey had been one of the first people Steve had visited after he’d been able to return to the Compound, determined to apologize for his part in Rhodey’s injury. They’d made up well enough, which was much more progress that Steve had made with Tony. Steve had been pleased about it until he realized all it had done was drive a wedge between Tony and one of the few remaining people on the team he trusted.

When it came to Tony, Steve felt as though he had done his best. Before the Avengers had been pardoned, he’d sent Tony a letter with his reasoning for keeping Bucky a secret, an apology for the harm caused, and a promise to provide backup whenever Tony inevitably needed it.

And apparently he needed it tonight. With a girl.

It’s that last word Steve keeps tripping up on. Not enemy, not press, not even woman. Girl.

Still, it’s more progress than they’ve made in months. Tony reaching out to him was huge, even if it did turn out to be over something minor.

Or, it was a mistake, and Steve was about to run to a person who had made it very clear that he didn’t want Steve anywhere near him.

After a few rebuffed attempts to get Tony to talk to him about Siberia, Steve had sought out Sam for help. “I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted. “Every time I reach out, he pulls further away.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” had been Sam’s reply. “Stop pushing, Steve. I know that’s your usual MO, but it’s not going to work here. You want to fix things up with Tony? You’re going to have to let him come to you.”

Might need help. That’s the closest Steve has experienced Tony ‘coming to him’ for months. Even longer than that, really. “When did you last see Tony, FRIDAY?”

“I have lost visuals on him.”

Steve frowns, trying to recall the venue Tony was attending tonight. He’d been there for events himself, what felt like a hundred years ago. Back when he and Tony would attend events together, as friends, shaking hands and playing their roles until Tony would insist on getting a real drink elsewhere.

Those nights, when it had just been the two of them, had been some of the most fun Steve had had since waking up from the ice. Even the one they had left even earlier than usual.

“Sorry for cutting the party short,” Tony had said as they made an escape to their waiting car. “There was an ex there who… well, I’d rather not talk to him if I had to. There’s actually a few of those hanging around at these things, which I’m sure is a surprise to no one”

“That blond guy who was staring at… us?”

“You me at me. Yeah, that’s Tiberius Stone. Head of Viastone, big media company, the one that…”

“Keeps writing all the negative press about the Avengers?” Steve finished for him. “I’ve seen his work.”

Tony made a face. “Don’t take it personally, it’s all meant to be some dig at me. Stupid really, considering he was the one that…” Tony broke off, clearing his throat. “Anyway. Like I said, I’d rather not exchange words.” He sent Steve a sideways look, suddenly unsure. “Thanks for leaving with me.”

Steve decided that pointing out that the way Stone had been staring at Tony was the exact reason he’d refused to leave Tony’s side all night wouldn’t do him any favors. Instead he said, “Anytime.”

“Sure.”

“I mean it, Tony. If anyone ever comes after you like that—you call me.”

And now it seemed, Tony would rather attend charity events alone. “Doesn’t the venue Tony was at tonight have security cameras, FRIDAY?”

“I am forbidden by the Sokovia Accords to access private security features without a warrant.”

“Of course you are,” Steve mutters, pushing himself off his bed to pace. He knew most of the team was in one of the Compound’s common areas, but he couldn’t bring himself to join them. It always felt like a betrayal when he knew Tony felt banned from joining in. “Anything on Tony you can track? Surely that’s legal.”

A pause before FRIDAY answers, “Mr Stark’s phone and watch are no longer on his person.”

Steve freezes in the center of his bedroom. “As in someone else removed them?”

“I cannot confirm that. I can confirm that Mr Stark’s personal tracker has just arrived at the Mark Hotel.”

Steve decides to skip right over the implications of personal tracker to focus on the more urgent information in that sentence. “Did Tony book a room at the Mark Hotel for tonight?”

“He did not.” Steve’s definitely not imagining the note of worry in FRIDAY’s voice. “I have prepared a car for you, Captain Rogers, if you wouldn’t mind checking on the situation.”

Steve’s already pulling on his shoes, reaching for a shield that’s no longer there. Tony hasn’t offered to build a new one, and Steve hasn’t asked. He’s not sure he’d want one even if the offer was on the table. “Don’t mind at all. In fact—make it the fastest car we have.”

Either Steve has a run of extreme good luck, or FRIDAY is working her magic to direct any cops that might pull him over to other areas, Accords restrictions be damned. Or she’s just working overtime to locate any and all loopholes. She’d found plenty in the Accords to get the arrested Avengers freed and for the government to allow Bucky to stay in Wakanda, after all, with the caveat that all of them—Steve especially—continued to behave.

“The Manhattan Suite,” FRIDAY tells Steve without prompting as he roars into the driveway, startling a very flustered valet. “Twelfth floor.”

“Got it.” Steve chucks the keys to the valet, seeing the young man’s eyes go wide when he realizes just who has emerged from the car. “Keep this close for me.”

The valet gulps, then bobbles his head up and down. “Yes, um… Captain America, sir.”

Great, now Steve had been spotted here. A problem for tomorrow.

He turns a few heads as he hastily walks across the lobby, not wanting to cause any panic with the sight of an Avenger running toward an elevator at a full sprint. Still, he feels more nervous than he has been on a mission for a long time. If this even is a mission. Maybe the text had been a mistake—a joke or an offhand comment meant for someone else. Maybe Tony had booked the hotel under a false name, or it was this mystery woman’s room and Tony was just blowing off a little steam. His and Pepper’s relationship was publicly over, after all. Maybe Tony was just distracting himself from the drama and tension at the Compound, and Steve was about to burst in and ruin it completely.

Or maybe Tony had genuinely asked him for help. And Steve didn’t care how much their friendship was in tatters, possibly—even likely—ruined for good. He’d promised Tony that, if he needed him, he’d be there. It’s not a promise Steve ever has any intention of breaking.

Steve pauses outside the twelfth-floor Manhattan Suite, enhanced hearing picking up muffled voices from behind the door. He frowns, stepping closer. He doesn’t hear a woman. It’s definitely two male voices. One sounds muffled, enough so that Steve presses his ear to the door to hear better, only for the other man’s words to ring through the wood loud and clear. “For god’s sake, Tony, this is happening, just relax.”

Steve doesn’t need to hear anymore. The locked handle implodes beneath his grip as he shoves the door open, surveying the scene in front of him suddenly very, very grateful that he had chosen to take Tony’s text message seriously.

Tony’s laid out on the luxurious bed, zip ties cutting into his wrists keeping him anchored to the headboard, a man Steve recognizes all too well sprawled over him. He has half a second to be thankful that everyone is at least somewhat dressed, before he’s launching himself at the bed.

Stone doesn’t stand a breath of a chance of getting out of the way. Steve tackles him to the floor, careful not to hit Tony, pinning him there against the lush carpet. He takes a moment to bathe in the satisfaction of it—even after all these years, he’s never lost the thrill of finally being able to take on bullies and win—before he raises his fist.

Then Stone lets out an undignified squawk, throwing his hands up over his face, and Steve’s burning triumph extinguishes. He’s suddenly back in Siberia, raising the shield that Howard had made for him, preparing to bring it down on Tony’s arc reactor.

Even after seeing Bucky’s arm torn clean off, Steve had never had any other intention. He’d seen that Tony wasn’t going to stop, that something had cracked in his former friend’s eyes, something deep and irreparable. So Steve had decided to take out Tony’s armor, grab Bucky, and end the situation before anyone went to a place none of them could come back from.

He still has nightmares about the moment Tony had shielded his head. That pure terror on his face as he had been sure that Steve was about to… that he had believed, even for a moment, that Steve could possibly even think about…

It was only once Bucky was safely in the hands of Wakanda’s medical staff that Steve had recalled reading Tony’s SHIELD file. How Obadiah Stane, one of the very few people Tony trusted, had nearly killed him by targeting his arc reactor.

No wonder Tony had refused to let Steve get close to him since that fight.

After a few moments of Steve remaining frozen, Stone peeks one eye open, fear turning to indignation when he sees Steve isn’t going to act. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He squirms under Steve, trying to throw him off, but Steve stays right where he is. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Steve leans a little closer, enjoying that it makes the other man flinch. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Stone’s resolve strengthens. “Yeah, I do. I know that barely a few months ago you were a wanted fugitive. You want to go back to that? I could get an interview on any news channel tomorrow telling the world that Captain America assaulted me.”

“Go ahead. You also going to tell them why? We could go down together.”

Stone scoffs. “Please. No one is going to believe assault on my part. Especially not against Tony Stark, of all people, everyone knows that he’s nothing more than a desperate slut.”

The last word is barely out of Stone’s mouth before Steve grabs him by the hair and slams his head against the floor, knocking him out cold.

He doesn’t have time to gloat about it. He can hear shuffling on the bed behind him, the yank of skin on plastic, and realizes with a cold dread that Tony just heard every word Stone had said.

Steve clambers to his feet, immediately going to Tony’s side. “Tony, hey. He’s unconscious. You’re alright.” Even as he says it, he realizes it’s far from the truth. The skin around Tony’s wrists is painfully raw, his pupils blown wide. At least barely any clothing has been removed, for which Steve allows a quick breath of relief. He’d gotten here in time. Not to prevent everything, but at least to prevent the worst of it.

Tony makes a heavily muffled sound, and Steve shakes himself back into action. The worst of it, yes. All of it? Far from the truth.

“I got you.” He reaches for Tony’s jaw, meaning to pry out whatever fabric Stone has stuffed into his mouth, only for Tony to jerk back as though Steve’s electrocuted him. “Tony, it’s okay. I’m just going to take the gag out.”

He gives Tony a couple of seconds to process that. Even if the dilated pupils weren’t a dead giveaway, the way it’s taking Tony far too long to sort through his words is a sure sign that Stone’s slipped him something. When he seems to have calmed somewhat, Steve reaches for the gag again.

The second his fingerpads brush Tony’s cheek, Tony jerks away, making a sound as though he’s in pain.

Steve freezes. The last thing he wants to do is make things worse, but he doesn’t exactly want to leave Tony tied to a bed with Stone still in the room either. “I’m going to break the zip ties,” Steve announces. If Tony has some kind of jaw injury, they can deal with it in the safety of the Compound. He goes to grip the plastic, only for his and Tony’s hands to touch.

Steve would give whatever limited funds he has in his bank account to erase the wounded sound that comes out of Tony from his mind. He snatches his hands back as though he’s the one who’s been injured, completely at a loss, when he hears a groggy groan from beside the bed.

Tony goes rigid, clearly having heard it too. “He’s not going to touch you,” Steve promises. “Not ever again, Tony.”

A second groan, more coherent than the first, and Steve makes up his mind. He slides off the bed, not even hesitating before he rips the headboard clean from the base. He lays it carefully on the bed next to Tony, so at least the strain is off his shoulders and he can reach the gag himself, before he grabs a semi-conscious Stone by the shirt and drags him into the bathroom.

Stone’s still sniping at him by the time Steve has locked the door, something inane about being important and you will regret this. “I’m not going to kill you,” Steve snaps at him, even though a part of him is more than a little tempted. “Tell me what you gave to Tony, now.”

Stone breaks off mid-sentence, eyeing Steve as though he’s considering strategy. “Just something to help him loosen up. He always needed something, never could relax, it was so annoying—”

Steve crosses the bathroom in two strides, pinning Stone up against the bathtub. “What did you give him?”

Stone just leers at him. “You won’t do anything. Not to me. You can’t.”

“We’ll see about that.” Even so, Steve hesitates. As much as he wants to show just exactly what he can and will do to him, Tony’s his priority right now. And the best thing for Tony to be is anywhere but here. They can talk about how best to deal with this incident when Tony’s sober and has a say in the outcome.

And, as much as Steve hates to admit it, Stone hadn’t been wrong about Steve not wanting to return to fugitive status, not when it might compromise Bucky’s asylum in Wakanda.

“We’re leaving,” he says shortly. “If you ever come near Tony again, I won’t be as nice next time.”

He shoves Stone away, slamming the bathroom door behind him so hard he hears a hinge break. Whatever. Let Stone get slammed with the bill for the damages to the room.

Speaking of—Tony has managed to free one hand, a spit-sodden pair of socks now resting next to his head. Steve hurries back to his side, crouching down to his level. “We’re getting out of here. Can you walk?”

Usually, statements like that earn him an outraged glare and a yes I still have two legs, in fact I have four when you include the suit which is two more than anyone else on this team last time I checked. Now, Tony just squeezes his eyes shut, and shakes his head.

“That’s okay, I can…” Steve breaks off, remembering how Tony had reacted when he’d barely touched his hand, only to be greeted with yet another problem as he hears whispering outside of the door. Then the broken handle starts to turn.

He’s there in a moment, grabbing the handle and throwing his full weight against the door. The whispers outside turn confused as their efforts intensify. Steve shifts so he can peer through the peephole, heart sinking when he sees not one, but three separate people with cameras. The cameraman trying the door is the valet from out front.

Steve presses his forehead against the door, trying not to give in to his frustration. He could call hotel security, but Stone had a point when he'd said that what Steve’s doing isn’t exactly legal, and definitely not Accords-approved. He doesn’t want to alert a single person to his presence here that he doesn’t have to.

Even so, he just wants to leave—to get Tony somewhere safe and, if he’s being honest with himself, to someone who actually knows how to deal with this situation. Now the adrenaline has finally started to fade, it’s hitting hard that he's probably the last person in the world Tony would want to find him like this.

But there’s nothing either of them can do about it. They’re not leaving this hotel room—not without all kinds of photos neither of them is going to want to explain splattered across the internet. Steve wrenches the handle sideways, locking the paparazzi out. And locking him and Tony in.

He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on that last point as he rejoins Tony on the bed. He’s still struggling with the last zip tie, the movements clumsy and uncoordinated. “Here.” Steve moves around so he can grab the plastic without touching Tony, snapping it in two before shoving the headboard off the bed so Tony doesn’t have to look at it. “Tony, listen to me. I need to know what he gave you.”

Tony goes very still, eyes squeezing shut.

Steve’s heart rate starts to climb again. “Is it deadly? Do we need to get to a hospital?” If it’s a choice between Tony’s dignity and his life, there’s a clear choice.

But Tony shakes his head.

Steve swallows, already knowing what the other obvious answer is. “So it’s an aphrodisiac.”

A pause, as though Tony’s considering it, before he shakes his head again.

Steve’s completely lost now. He recalls how Tony reacted when he had tried to touch him. “Something that hurts you?” He’s suddenly all too aware that Stone is alone and helpless on the other side of the bathroom door.

Tony covers his face with his hands. Then he shakes his head. No.

“Then what—” Steve breaks off, frustrated, he needs to know, before a small sound behind Tony’s hands makes him realize that Tony is doing everything in his power not to cry.

Steve hasn’t felt this helpless since he witnessed Bucky tumble from the train. “Okay,” he says, even though it’s not, everything is so, so far away from okay. “I have my phone,” he offers. “I could call Rhodey, or Happy, or…” He breaks off at the depressing realization that that’s the whole list.

Tony just shakes his head again. His breaths have become shorter, his skin clammier. Whatever Stone has given him is ramping up, not abating. Steve doesn’t particularly want to leave Tony on his own, but he needs to know what he’s ingested.

How fortunate that there’s one more person in this overpriced hotel suite that he can ask.

Tony flinches as Steve gets off the bed—either worried Steve is going to move closer, or whether he’s going to leave altogether, Steve isn’t sure. Steve hopes it’s the latter. “I’ll be right back,” he promises. “I won’t leave the hotel room.”

As he stands, he notices a small bag at the end of the bed next to the discarded zip ties and makeshift gag. He picks up the bag first, sifting through it. There’s no convenient pharmacy pamphlet spelling out what the drug is, but there are a few other items that might be useful. He takes it with him to the bathroom.

Stone has locked the door, but Steve just breaks it right open. Another expense to add to Stone’s bill. The man in question is leaning over the sink, a dripping face cloth pressed against the back of his head as a makeshift icepack. He stands up straight as Steve approaches, wary but not nearly as worried as before. If anything, he looks a little smug. “Not doing so hot, is he? I could fix that.”

Steve kicks the door closed behind him. “Tell me what you gave him.”

Stone honest-to-god rolls his eyes. “If you were going to hurt me, Rogers, you would have done so by now. Not including the head wound that I could definitely sue you for. But play nice and I might not even do that.”

Steve opens Stone’s bag. “You’re going to tell me what you gave Tony.”

Water is dripping down the back of Stone’s neck as he surveys Steve. “I won’t,” he decides. “But what I will do is this—I know exactly how to go out there and make it stop. I put a lot of planning into this night, I’ll salvage what I can.”

“You’re not going anywhere near him.”

Stone shrugs, unbothered. “Let his cortisol keep climbing then. Probably not too kind on that janked-up heart of his, but from what I’ve heard in the news, neither have you or your other dress-up buddies.”

Steve ignores that last part. “Okay. We’ll do this the hard way then.” And he pulls the remaining zip ties out of the bag.

Stone’s eyes go wide as he sees what Steve’s planning, but he has no chance of escape in the small space. It takes barely thirty seconds for Steve to wrestle him into the bathtub, pulling the plastic restraints tight around his wrists and ankles. Stone curses him out the whole time, glaring at where Steve is now looming over him. “You’re all talk,” he spits. “The time for your kind is over. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter that some Nazi gave you muscles. I have money, you don’t. And I know some stupid little mick is well aware of the consequences of crossing me.”

Steve ignores that last part, reaching for his phone. “Dr. Erskine wasn’t a Nazi, he was a hero.” He finds the contact he’s looking for and dials the number. “And you’re right—I do know what it means when someone has money. It means I have to do this very, very carefully.”

Stone still isn’t buying it. “I’m not telling you, and you’re not going to make me. It’s not your style.”

“You’re right,” Steve agrees. “It’s hers.”

“Well, calling isn’t a good sign,” Natasha Romanoff’s voice echoes through the bathroom. “I know you know how to text, Rogers, the old man act doesn’t work on me.”

“I’ve got a problem I need some help with,” Steve says, eyes not leaving Stone’s face. From the way the other man’s gone very still, Steve would bet he knows exactly who Steve is talking to. “I’ve got someone here who won’t answer a question that I really need the answer to.”

“You can’t get one answer? You’re going soft.”

“See, here’s the problem,” Steve goes on, feeling a stab of triumph when he finally sees Stone start to grow scared. “He’s made it very clear that he has a lot of money and a lot of power. So I have to do this in a very subtle way that leaves absolutely no evidence behind.” And then, just to make absolutely sure the stakes are clear, he adds, “Figured that would be something a Black Widow would know about.”

“You’re bluffing,” Stone tries, but he’s far less certain than before.

“Steve,” Natasha says, all joking dropped, a question behind the word. Is this worth the risk?

“He drugged Tony with something,” Steve says bluntly. “Something that’s hurting him, bad, Nat. I need to know what it is and how to stop it.”

Natasha doesn’t even hesitate. “Well, that’s a very fatal mistake your new friend has made. Where are you?”

Steve knows she doesn’t mean the hotel. “In a bathroom.”

“With a tub?”

“Yep.”

“With a showerhead you can move?”

Steve glances up. “Yep.”

“And towels?”

“Plenty.”

“Wait,” Stone tries, struggling in the zip ties. His wrists aren’t nearly as raw as Tony’s, but it’s still satisfying to watch them turn the same angry red. “You’re not going to do this. Your lot is already in trouble with the law. Do you know what I could do to you?”

“Did you hear that, Nat?”

“I did. Tell your friend that he can’t do anything to anyone if I come and pick his body up after you’re through with him.”

Stone still looks torn. “You’re messing with me. You’re not serious.”

“Rogers?” Natasha asks lightly. “Put me on the phone with this super important person you’re holding captive in a bathroom?”

Steve does as he’s told, holding the phone up to Stone’s ear so he can hear Natasha’s threats directly, watching in undisguised delight as Stone’s face turns whiter and whiter with every word.

“So now you’ve met Nat,” Steve says, putting the phone on the sink so as to have both hands free. “You might meet her in person later, depending on how the next part of this goes.” He takes the shower head off its hook as he picks up the discarded facecloth. “How long does a person usually last when you waterboard them, Natasha?”

“About an average of six seconds,” Natasha replies. “Have fun, Rogers. Call me if you need a pick-up later. I know the perfect place in the harbor for… disposals.”

Stone breaks before Natasha’s even hung up the phone. “Damnit, alright, I’ll tell you!”

Steve doesn’t lower the shower or towel. “Make it quick.”

“I don’t know what it’s called."

Steve moves closer.

“That part doesn’t matter!” Stone adds hastily. “It wasn’t meant to hurt him, it was just meant to calm him down. If you hadn’t barged in here I would have made sure he was fine.”

“How?” Steve demands. “How do I help him?”

Something twists in Stone’s face—a slight regaining of ground. “He needs to be touched.”

Whatever Steve’s expecting to hear, it isn’t that. “What do you mean? Touched like..” He swallows, feeling sick.

“Jesus, you really are as prudish as everyone says. Any touch. Doesn’t have to be sex. You take the drug, you get all happy when you're touched, you get stressed out when you’re not. Lasts for eight hours, or so, then it’ll clear his system.”

Steve recalls the paparazzi gathered outside the hotel door. “How long ago did you give it to him?”

“I don’t know, twenty minutes?”

About seven and a half hours to go. Steve tries a new route. “Is there a way to make it stop sooner?’

Stone scoffs. “His neurotransmitters are working overtime to work against the oxytocin deficit and the cortisol overproduction, you can’t just stop that. Not that I’d expect you to understand the science behind something like—”

Steve’s already reached into the bag for the socks that had been used to gag Tony, ignoring Stone’s protests as he shoves them in his mouth. “Hope you’re comfy like that,” Steve tells him. “Because you’ve got another seven and a half hours to go.”

He ignores Stone’s outraged cry, exiting the bathroom and closing the door on him. Tony is still on the bed, although he’s now curled up in a ball. He’s shaking.

“Tony.” Any satisfaction over putting Stone in his place drains in an instant. Steve makes his way around the bed, heart breaking when he sees that Tony has gathered one of the pillows to his chest in a tight hug. “Stone told me what the drug does. Did he tell you?”

There's a pause where Steve’s sure Tony’s too gone to answer him. Then Tony nods, glancing towards the bathroom. “Did you hurt him?” There’s a note of worry in the words.

“No,” Steve says quickly. “Just scared him.”

He tries to monitor if Tony is disappointed or relieved by the information. He can’t tell.

Steve perches on the edge of the bed. “If I could get you out of here, I would, but we’re stuck.” He decides not to explain why—he doesn’t think Tony would react well to the added stress of paparazzi literally at the door. “But we’re safe in here.”

Even as he says the words, he wonders if Tony would consider them true. His would-be rapist is still far too close for comfort. And then there’s Steve himself. Steve has no idea if Tony would consider him a safe person anymore.

“You’ve got a while to go,” Steve says softly. “Stone told me what would help.”

Tony hugs the pillow a little closer.

“I know I’m not your first option,” Steve continues. “But your cortisol could get dangerously high if we don’t do something. And it will make you feel better.”

He doesn’t get a yes. He doesn’t get a no, either. Carefully, giving Tony every chance to pull away, he lays a hand on Tony’s arm.

Tony pulls back as though he’s been burned.

For one horrifying moment, Steve is sure that Stone has tricked him. That touch isn’t soothing to Tony right now, it’s painful. Then Tony looks up at him, abject misery and apology all over his face.

Steve feels as though his breath has been punched out of him. It’s not that the touch is painful. It's that Tony doesn’t want Steve to touch him at all. Even with a drug burning through his veins telling his brain that he needs touch more than anything in the world, having Steve that close to him is still not an option.

Steve’s eyes burn as he steps back from the bed, giving Tony space. He checks the peephole again on the off-chance the coast is clear. No luck. They’ve settled in for the night, and there’s no sign of hotel security coming to clear them out of their own accord. Steve half-wonders if they have some kind of deal with the parking valet, something that will let him and his friends stay up there all night if he needs to.

He makes his way back to the bed, at a loss. “There are hours left, Tony,” he says. “I can’t sit here and watch…” He breaks off, realizing that might be exactly what he has to do. “I’m sorry it’s not someone else. I should have brought backup when I got your message.”

He sees Tony’s brow crumple, as though confused.

“You texted me,” Steve explains. “You said you needed help. You don’t remember?”

Slowly, Tony shakes his head. “Roofied,” he manages.

Steve closes his eyes for a moment. Getting furious at what has already happened isn’t going to help anyone. “And you texted me. You must have been pretty out of it.” The half-attempt at a joke falls flat.

There’s a long beat before Tony says, “You came.”

“Of course I came.” Steve sighs, rubbing his face with his hand. “I promised you I would. I meant that.” He risks sitting on the edge of the bed. “Can we try again? I’m pretty sure Stone was telling the truth when he said touch would help.”

Steve holds his breath, hoping, until Tony nods.

“Okay. Just a hand, alright?” He reaches forward.

Tony jerks back.

Steve swallows the hurt the rejection causes. Voicing it now isn’t going to help anything. And neither is just sitting back and watching Tony be miserable for hours.

I don’t know what else to do. Every time I reach out, he pulls further away. Maybe that’s the problem. Stop pushing, Steve. I know that’s your usual MO, but it’s not going to work here. You want to fix things up with Tony? You’re going to have to let him come to you.

Steve takes a few deep breaths. He’s always known that, if anything was ever going to get fixed between them, Tony would have to come to him. He’d put forward his apology with the letter and the phone. He’d left the ball in Tony’s court if he wanted to take him up on making amends or not.

Slowly, Steve lays his arm on the bed. “I’m not going to touch you,” he promises. “But you can touch me, Tony. If you want to.”

For a long time, nothing changes. Neither of them move. Then, at a glacial pace, Tony unwraps one arm from around the pillow and curls shaking fingers around Steve’s wrist.

Immediately, the impossible tension in Tony’s body lessens. Like a puppet’s strings being cut, Tony seems to sink deeper into the bed, gripping Steve’s wrist a little tighter with a relieved sigh.

Steve relaxes in tandem with him. It’s probably not as much as Tony’s needs to fully counteract the drug's effects, but it’s far better than nothing. It’s a start.

“I’m right here,” Steve promises, the next seven or so hours no longer seeming quite as impossible. “We got this, Tony.”

The little squeeze Tony gives his wrist shows he agrees.

#bad things happen bingo #bthb card #tw: attempted rape #tw: non-con #tony stark #tony stark whump #steve rogers #whump writing #zip ties #civil war fix-it #steve to the rescue #tiberius stone #marvel #mcu #fanfic

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kitcat992 · 2 years

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YasssSSSS!!!

It has taken me years to rewrite the damage the MCU did to Tony and Steve but I'm 100% okay with having spent that time and effort because YEESSSSSSSSS to ALL OF THIS

Identity Crisis, Chapter 28: Venom

Steve shot his head around, breaking free of the horrified trance that had his chest spasming for oxygen. He stared at Tony, eyes grim — wide and frightened. Exposed without the covering of his helmet.

Tony looked back at him, unable to twist his neck the whole way — unable to fully look away. The shakes that twisted his body could be seen even underneath his suit of armor.

A single look was all either of them needed.

No words, no sounds.

It was a connection of sorts — time, and many missions under their belt, had endued them with that form of communication.

And it was enough.

#stony #platonic stony #Steve Rogers and Tony Stark #steve rogers #tony Stark #tony stark whump #Steve Rogers whump #fanfiction #fanfic #the MCU robbed me so I robbed them right back #irondad

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dragonnan · 2 years

Note

I find myself constantly going back to the story to look at your picture again, the details are amazing. You even got his little wolf eyebrow and the haunting nothingness in Peter's expression just like how Ms KitKat wrote it. And the way Tony is looking at him, the sorrow and acceptance and LOVE! So good.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467859/chapters/48566132

Identity Crisis/Chapter 28

Oh gosh thank you so much! This story has consumed me - it's one of the best pieces of MCU fiction I've ever read and frankly deserves a place on library shelves. It was a fantastic honor to create art for it and to express to @kitcat992 just how freaking astounding she is.

On a side note I love Tom's eyebrow quirk lol

#irondad and spiderson #mcu fanfic #avengers fanfic #tony stark whump #peter parker whump

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lila-unfortunately · 2 years

Text

Pedestals Fall (but I still needed a hero)

MCU/ Tony Stark-centric | Whumptober 2022 | no.6 & 7 | alt prompt: whimpering & day seven “the way you shiver and shake” [silent panic attacks]

TW: panic attacks, suicidal ideation, low self worth, splitting (in the bpd sense), & disassociation

CW: team iron man (cap critical, not anti) & excessive use of the word “fuck”

@whumptober-archive :)

Shit, Tony mumbled underneath his breath, the expletive instinctive. He knew what was happening, but this time he didn’t have Jarvis to count his breathing or the privacy of the lab to conceal his weakness. No, but, of course, he was in the company of the Avengers. Of course, it was during their first meeting since the so-called ‘civil war’ and fucking of course this shit had to happen while he was pretending that whole ordeal didn’t affect him.

Tony cleared his throat and forced himself to take an even, deep breath, “Okay, well, if any of you have any further questions on what your pardon consists of or just, in general, readjustment issues, feel free to let me know. But, for now, I’m gonna excuse myself and leave you to it. Vision will show you to your rooms.”

Tony grimaced, hearing his voice waver a little, but it couldn’t be helped. He did his best, considering the circumstances. Vision noticed, with a pat of reassurance on his shoulder, but of course that small little tremble also garnered the attention of Steve fucking Rogers and Natasha fucking Romatov and Clint fucking Barton. The ones he had known for years detected his pain and while he could feel their eyes on him, he knew better than to expect them to care.

With a small wave, he excused himself into the elevator.

“Friday,” he gasped as the doors shut behind him, “lock the doors. Initiate Protocol ‘Tony Stark is a little bitch’.”

He immediately crumpled to floor, trying to keep his hysteria as leveled and quiet as he could. Not really for the sake of anyone else, he know Jarvis sealed all ways into the elevator off and was currently redirecting anyone in need of this particular elevator to the stairs, but somehow he wanted to be able to walk away from this with a shred of his dignity.

He was shaking, curled up in a ball on the elevator floor. Work with me, brain. Tony thought, swirling thoughts of self deprecation overloading his brain, throwing him to the wolves that were ripping him to shreds.

Steve fucking Rogers. ‘Course it came back to him. The guy he grew up compared against, constantly. The one his father devoted his life to rescuing, the one that covered for the killer of his parent’s death.

It wasn’t really that, though. Tony sort of understood why he defended James Barnes. The Winter Soldier. They weren’t really the same person, not really. One was brainwashed, the other forced to live with the horrible things he did under the influence of HYDRA.

It was the fact that the righteous Captain fucking America, who he grew up admiring, who against all odds he considered a close friend, fucking betrayed him. Steve could’ve told him. Should’ve told him. He was fucking Captain America, he wasn’t fucking supposed to take the easy way out or make the easy choice. He was supposed to be good, unbelievably good. The best. It hurt to know the man he put on a fucking pedestal was as human as him. It wasn’t fair of him to put those expectations on the super soldier, Tony knew that. But Steve fucking Rogers wasn’t supposed to stab him in the back, either.

Tony still didn’t really know why he attacked two super soldiers. He was fueled by grief and immense hurt. No excuses, though. It was the dumbest decision he’d made in awhile. His actions in Siberia led directly to a resurgence of the anxiety issues he thought he had finally quashed. It led him right back to the arc reactor he swore he’d never need again.

Tony had (stupidly) hoped this one wouldn’t be so bad. Of course, he was wrong. Steve, though the man was harmless now that Tony was fighting for life in a state of intense grief, brought back vivid flashbacks he just couldn’t fight off.

My chest, oh my fucking god…pain pain pain PAIN.

The stupid shield slamming into his fucking chest-

Tony doubled over clutching his reactor, he couldn’t control the tears that flooded his eyes, the soft whimper past his lips, the urge to scream-

Fuck.

He was dying. This was it. Tony Stark was fucking dying alone in a dirty ass elevator. And for some reason, it was fitting.

Fuck.

His breaths were sharp and shallow, his heart racing so fast, too fast. His heart was too weak… it was going to combust. He couldn’t handle this, fuck.

Sweat poured off him. He was gonna die. His heart was going to explode.

Good, a voice whispered in his head.

Tony sobbed, as silently as he could muster.

“Boss?” Friday said suddenly, “Captain Steve Rogers and Agent Natasha Romanov are requesting entrance.”

Tony began to hiccup with sobs, barely choking out a response that came out in a croaky whisper, “How did-“

“The elevator has been locked down for several hours. In that time, your absence was duly noted.”

Tony let out a weak laugh, “Entry denied.”

Tony felt himself slowly slipping out of his panic, his brain numbing, tears drying sticky on his face.

All he could do was sit there, frozen still. No energy to move, no will power to do so. He was so fucking weak.

“Sir,” Friday interrupted again, “Captain Steve Rogers and Agent Natasha Romanov are threatening to break the door in.”

Tony didn’t even respond, he couldn’t. His lips wouldn’t move, his body was soldered to his spot on the floor. He couldn’t find the will to care.

His eyes fluttered closed, but sleep wouldn’t come.

Suddenly he felt his body being lifted up, the touch should’ve jerked him out of whatever state he was in, but it didn’t. He could feel and head but he couldn’t respond. It was like he was watching this unfold to someone that wasn’t him, like he left his body. He felt like that too. He was a shell, and empty shell of the man he used to be.

He didn’t even care.

Voices were shouting loudly, but it was background noise to him.

He didn’t care.

Someone was touching him, sending chills across his body.

He didn’t care.

He wasn’t even real. It wasn’t really his body. It was hard to care.

Tony turned over and passed out.

#whumptober 2022 #no.6 #alt prompt #whimpering #no.7 #silent panic attack #tony stark whump #tony stark fic #marvel fic

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lemonlillybee · 1 year

Text

Whumptober Day 22

Title: Pick Your Poison

Prompts: Toxic | Withdrawal @whumptober

Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU)

Word Count: 493

Read on AO3

A loud, steady beeping sound pulls Peter from his warm, dark sleep. He feels floaty and heavy. And sweaty. He’s nearly soaked from the sweat. He’s not hot, not cold, just warm. And floaty. And…sweaty, which he thinks he already acknowledged, but he can’t stop thinking about it. His thoughts swirl around like they’re on a hamster wheel.

Some time passes. It’s either a minute or a day. It doesn’t matter too much. After it passes, though, he wants to get up, so he does. His muscles feel like jelly and his arms tremble from the weight of pushing himself up to sit.

He’s in a room with two beds, separated by a curtain that’s drawn halfway closed, and the other bed looks like someone’s been sleeping in it recently, the sheets and blanket pushed partway down and slightly rumpled. He’s a little confused, unsure of how he got here, and unsure of where exactly ‘here’ is. The beeping sound makes his head hurt a little, and his tongue feels too big in his mouth.

Mostly he’s just really, really sweaty.

He starts to stand, and falls immediately back onto the bed. The second time he tries, he’s able to stay up, though his knees knock together and he sways dangerously back and forth.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Someone says behind him. He turns his head and almost faceplants, but at the last second he’s able to shift his weight back so that he plops back down onto the bed instead.

Tony looks angry.

“I’m not out of bed,” Peter says, gesturing at his bed, and Tony frowns in confusion. He takes a few steps closer and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Oh.”

“Tony!” A sharp, familiar voice rings out, and they both turn to look at Pepper standing in the doorway. “What on earth are you doing out of bed?”

Peter looks over at the other bed, and it suddenly clicks– Tony is the one who was supposed to be occupying it.

Tony walks to the bed and sprawls out on top of the sheet. “I’m not out of bed.”

“You two are a handful, you know that?”

Peter exchanges a glance with Tony and he doesn’t really see any handfuls present between the two of them.

“It’s good to see you awake, Peter,” she says softly, coming to stand in front of him, one hand cupping the side of his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Why am I so sweaty?” Is all he can think to ask.

“That’s just everything working itself out of your system, apparently,” Pepper supplies with a tight laugh. Her eyes flick down to her watch. “I’m going to go grab Bruce, he’ll want to know that you’re awake. Please, stay in bed. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Tony nods. Peter nods. She leaves. And honestly, Peter would listen to her, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was so sweaty.

#whumptober2022 #no.22 #toxic #withdrawal #spider-man (mcu)#drabble #peter parker whump #tony stark whump #irondad #spiderson #whump

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threehours-aday · 2 months

Text

needles and pinches (2023)

read here or here

tw: miscarriage

this was my last work of 2023 and first work for the mcu. i've never been more passionate than when i penned the draft down during math class (because algebra is a bitch) and i remember rereading it a thousand times for fear of making mistakes.

the thing was written in first-person, from tony's pov (part i) and steve's (part ii).

i recommend listening to its theme song (needles & pinches by georgia train) while reading.

#stuckony #tony stark whump #tony stark #steve rogers #mpreg #miscarriage #polyamory #unnecessarily long words #i love whumping tony for no reason #not in abo settings #tony is just a man who is able to bear children #bucky barnes #buck is in it he just doesn't get much screen time yet

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creative-caramel-coffee · 3 days

Text

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 3

Summary: Reader meets the team.

Tw: mentions of sickness, teasing

Words: 2.8K

A/n: Thanks for all the support this series has been getting :) If anyone has any suggestions for things that could happen in this series lemme know and I’ll see what I think. No smut though I don’t write that here.

The next day you woke to knocking on the bedroom door. Sitting up in bed you quietly called for whoever it was to enter.

A moment later Wanda poked her head through the door. Seeing you awake or at least semi-awake she slipped through the small space she had created.

“Good morning.” She smiled coming to sit beside you on the bed. “Did you sleep well?” She asked pressed her hand to your forehead.

“Mmm.” You hummed still half asleep.

“You don’t feel warm anymore.” She smiled at this achievement as if she was proud of you. “How are you feeling today?” She asked moving her hands to rest in her lap again.

“Tired, but that’s probably because I just woke up.” You smiled.

“Nat sent me to wake you up. She wanted to know if your well enough to meet the others today.” Wanda explained looking slightly guilty.

“I mean, I’m game if you are. Where’s Nat?” You asked coving a yawn.

“Nat’s training with steve. And not so fast, I want to know more about how you're feeling. No more headache? Cough? Wheezing? Give me something.” She grinned.

“My headaches gone, no more cough, maybe a slight wheeze I’m not too sure.” You begun and Wanda’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of your wheezing. “I’m like ninety-nine percent sure my fever is gone, and I feel pretty good all things aside.” You finished.

“That’s good. Maybe keep your inhaler on you today just in case. And after the meeting I’ll see if I can get Bruce to give us a few spares, just in case.” Wanda said softly.

“You really don’t have to.” You said shyly toying with a loose thread on the sheets.

“Its no problem. I would make me feel better. Breathing is important.” Wanda teased easing your concerns.

“So, when’s the meeting?” You asked.

“Well, I think Nat wanted to do it as soon as possible. Like straight after training and then I’m going to make you some pancakes for brunch.” Wanda said poking your side. “But for now, hop up, get dressed and I’ll be back soon to show you where the meeting room is.” Wanda said, standing up and heading for the door.

Once wanda had left, probably to go and find Nat to call the meeting, you crawled out of bed. Rifling through your backpack you changed out your sleepshirt and shorts for a pair of black track pants and a pale-yellow t-shirt. Throwing on some goofy socks and lacing up your black converse high tops you braided your hair sat in front of the mirror and threw on some deodorant.

Once you were ready and had been to the bathroom to wash your face and go through your morning routine, you sat at peters desk.

Picking up your backpack you went through it until finding what you were looking for.

Pulling out the black sketchbook you opened it to a fresh page and began mindlessly doodling things you could see around peters room and the cityscape beyond the open curtains.

Just as you were getting into the details of the New York skyline you heard a knock on the door.

Lowering your pencil, you sat a little straighter.

“Come in.” You called your voice sounding better than it had in days. And surprisingly good for someone who had spent hours coughing and wheezing for days on end.

Wanda opened the door and smiled seeing you up and about for the first time.

“You look much better.” She commented coming to stand by your shoulder. “Wow, you’re an amazing artist.” She smiled looking at your drawings.

“Oh, um … thanks.” You smiled still a little awkward when it came to compliments. “So, what’s the news?” You asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” Wanda said looking up from where she had been inspecting your sketchbook. “Nat called Fury. He’s kinda the boss. He’s given the go ahead if steve and tony sign off on it. Nat then called a meeting and I’m going to bring you to the room where you're going to meet the team.” She explained.

“I have two questions.” You said.

“Shoot.” Wanda said pulling you up and gesturing to follow her out the door.

“One, is peter going to be at this meeting?” You asked as Wanda lead you down some seemingly endless corridors.

“Yes.” Wanda nodded, pressing the button to call the lift.

“And two, this Fury guy said yes? Just like that?” You asked sounding slightly confused.

“Yes and no.” Wanda begun, stepping onto the lift with you beside her. “Nat asked Jarvis, Tony’s AI assistant to pull up all CCTV footage of spider-man and separate footage based on bio-signatures. So, she could differentiate between when it was peter and when it was you in the suit. She sent Fury the files and after he reviewed them, he approved you a place on the team. If you want it and the others agree.” Wanda explained.

“Okay.” You said slowly. “Seems like a good plan.” You smiled.

And the lift dinged softly as it slowed to a stop.

“This is us.” Wanda said and you followed her out of the open doors. Walking beside her down a hallway she stopped in front of a door and paused to look at you. “You ready?” She asked, her hand on the door handle.

“Yep.” You nodded swollowing down your nerves. “Ready as I’ll even be.”

“You’ll be great. Just be yourself and they’ll love you.” Wanda said and pushed the door open.

Nat was stood at the head of the table, a screen behind her queued up with spider-man videos. She smiled at you and wanda as the rest of the people turned to face you.

Seeing the people you had only ever seen on Tv in real life was a little overwhelming at first but wanda squeezed your hand and lead you into the room to stand at the front with her and Nat.

Peter smiled at you from where he was sat beside Tony. Looking proud of you just for standing in front of the avengers.

You stood there silent for a second simply making eye contact with your shoes before Natasha spoke up.

“This is Y/n.” Nat begun, and you gave a small half wave with an awkward smile. Tony was staring you down with an unreadable expression. He looked like he was analysing your face mentally. Most likely already having connected you to Peter.

“Hi I’m Y/n Parker.” You said lifting your eyes to meet a few smiling faces around the room a fair few of them sporting shocked looks.

“Parker?” Tony echoed sounding smaller than you had ever heard from his times on Tv.

“Y/n Parker is Peters sister.” Wanda explained.

“Kid?” Tony looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me there were two of you?” He asked looking sad.

Peter looked slightly sick at the open disappointment his mentor was showing right now and so you stepped in before peter had a panic attack.

“Mr Stark, Sir, it was my decision to keep myself out of the spotlight. And to do that I needed to maintain a low profile. Which is harder to do when the avengers know of your existence. No offence.” You explained. And the team exchanged a few glances as they noted how you had come to Peter’s aid almost immediately.

“That’s alright, I’m sure Pete will open up now you’re here.” Tony said with a grin as he ruffled Peters hair, “Won’t-cha kiddo?” He asked with his usual charismatic charm and Peter gave a small nod and smile while he ducked his head not liking the attention.

“So, anyone have anymore questions?” You asked drawing the attention off of Peter once more much to your brothers' relief.

Looking away from the small smile he sent you as thanks you laughed, seeing every hand in the room up with a question for you, bar Nat, Peter and Wanda of course.

You looked to your left and nodded to Steve.

“Hi, nice to meet you kid.” Steve said. “I have a question though, if Peter’s identity is secret, why did you need to stay away from us?” He asked looking confused, and his statement drew a few nods around the room.

“If Tony scares you honey, I can assure you that the man would forget his own shoes without me.” Someone you recognised as Pepper Potts said with a smile causing Tony to grumble to himself. How Nat had managed to wrangle the CEO of Stark industries into this meeting you didn’t know.

Little did you know that all it took was ‘There’s something you should know, it has to do with Peter’ and she was on her way.

“Actually,” Wanda said drawing the gaze of the room to her, “This should explain it. Jarvis play the video.” She said and the lights dimmed as the Tv showed a compilation of some of your best moves in the spider-suit.

When the video ended the lights retuned to their normal brightness and everyone still looked confused.

“How exactly does a compilation of Peter doing tricks explain that?” Bruce asked.

“Um…” You said looking slightly nervous. “That was me.” You said in a small voice and the room was silent for a second.

“Sick moves kid. Peter your sister’s awesome.” Sam said and a few people laughed at his perfect comedic timing.

“Prove it.” Tony said and you paled slightly.

“Tony.” Pepper said placing her hand on his arm and shooting him a look.

“No, its ok pepper.” Nat said. “Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling. “Was that peter in the suit for those videos?” She asked.

“The height and weight as well as body stature and proportions do not match Master Parker.” Jarvis said.

“Ok,” Nat continued, “Who do those body descriptors match in this room?” She asked.

“The person in the suit does match the body of Miss Parker.” Jarvis said and Tony frowned.

“Do the sticky thing.” Bucky called drawing a few smiles. You rolled your eyes and put a hand up, splaying your fingers before jumping in the air and touching the ceiling where you stayed stuck.

“Crawl around.” Sam said and you glared at his heckling.

“No.” You said and you saw Peter doing his puppy eyes at you. “Fine.” You sighed.

Jumping up you did a flip and stuck your legs out, now standing on the ceiling upside down and making eye contact with Sam before looking to Bucky.

“Better?” You asked sarcastically.

“Much.” Sam grinned and you rolled your eyes again.

“Ok. Get down Y/n.” Nat said sounding part annoyed part amused at the display.

“Yes ma’am.” You said before detaching from the roof and doing a flip to landing back where you were before.

“Show off.” Peter murmured under his breath and you huffed a small laugh as his ears went red, not having expected you to hear him. Dumb super-hearing.

“Well, now we’re done with the party tricks. What are we thinking?” You asked brushing off invisible dirt from your clothes.

“Well…” Tony said. “I think its time you got your own suit.” He grinned and you smiled back. “What colours do you want kiddo?” He asked.

“Um… maybe something like purple, white and red?” You said and he nodded already sketching down ideas on a pad of paper pepper had brought with her from a meeting.

“You’re also getting an AI.” Tony added and you looked a peter who simply smiled proudly of you.

“Well, if that’s everything Y/n’s also gonna need a room.” Wanda said and Tony nodded.

“There’s a spare room on Natasha and Wanda’s floor if you want to move in with the girls. Do I need to send some movers to grab your things?” Tony asked and you looked at your shoes and shook your head.

“Not much to move.” You mumbled.

“Y/n’s apartment was taken out in the last battle. She’s been hiding out in Peter’s room for now. That’s how we met actually.” Natasha said shooting you a reassuring smile.

“Well, it sounds like I’m going to be funding yet another shopping trip.” Tony sighed and Wanda grinned at you mischievously.

“We’ll make it a girl's day.” Wanda said shooting a look at pepper.

“I’d love to.” Pepper agreed and Nat clapped her hands together.

“Alright then.” The assassin said. “I should probably tell Fury we have another spider on the team.” Nat grinned and you smiled at her.

“Great, now we have three spiders.” Tony said rolling his eyes and ducking as Pepper aimed a pretty good swing to the back of his head.

“Knock it off Tony, don’t act like you're not secretly overjoyed to have another Parker around.” Pepper said.

“Just wondering,” Bruce said looking mildly nervous as the room turned to look at him.

“Yes?” You prompted him to continue.

“Are you…” He begun before pausing, “I guess theres no real nice way to put it.” Bruce said and Tony jumped in.

“I think Brucie-bear wants to know if you come with the Parker Brain Package.” Tony said and Pepper glared at him.

“Tony.” She warned, glaring at him while you cleared your throat.

“If you’re asking about how smart I am, let’s just say I designed the original prototype for the web-shooters and chemical makeup of the fluid.” You said and Tony nodded seemingly satisfied with that small tidbit of information for now.

“Well, if nobody had anything else to say, Wanda and I are going to take Y/n for a tour of the compound.” Nat said before turning to look at Clint. “And you, have to make dinner. You lost our bet.” Nat said and then dragged you and Wanda out of the room by your sleeves.

After a very long and very comprehensive tour by Natasha and Wanda, you were shown back to the communal kitchen where most of the team ate together when they weren’t on missions.

You walked into the dining room attached to the kitchen to be hit with the smell of burnt food pungent in the air.

You looked at Nat confused, and she grinned as she heard cursing coming from the kitchen. Wanda looked like she was itching to go help but sad she pulled away Nat grabbed her sleeve at the very last second to hold her back.

“Can someone explain whats going on for me?” You asked.

“Well, Clint and Natasha can’t cook if their lives depended on it.” Wanda begun, only to shush Nat when she went to speak up. “So naturally they made a bet, loser had to cook the team dinner, naturally Clint lost so Nat is enjoying his public humiliation. And I normally cook if we aren’t getting takeout so it's causing me pain to hear whats going on in there.”

“Oh, calm down. Clints not blowing anything up.” Nat said rolling her eyes as Wanda shot her a look. “Ok that was one time.” Nat amended.

Not twenty minutes later you were sat at a table with the avengers with a plate of very burnt stake and watery mash potatoes.

“What is it?” Tony asked poking his steak.

Clint grinned. “A masterpiece.” He said.

“More like a mistake.” Nat muttered judging her steak while poking it with her knife as if she was expecting it to start moving of its own accord.

“I say we have newbie try it.” Tony posed and you rolled your eyes.

Cutting off a piece of the very tough steak with your knife you raised it to your lips and put it in your mouth.

It was tough and kind of disgusting. But you smiled anyway.

Finding the meat tougher than you had been expecting, you made the switch as you called you fangs up. Your canines sharpened as you chewed managing to decimate the meat. Swallowing you looked at Clint.

“Not the worst thing I’ve every eaten.” You said with a smirk and Tony who had been watching you closely squeaked.

“Jeez kid you didn’t tell me your sister was a vampire.” Tony said turning to Peter.

By this point most of they eyes were on you, so you hid your teeth and retracted the fangs out of embarrassment.

“She’s not. It’s a spider thing she got.” Peter said coming yo your defence.

“Either way her new name is fangs.” Tony said with a grin.

This time you glared at him.

“For the record i think they’re awesome.” Wanda said sensing your embarrassment.

“Seconded.” Nat said her spy training honing in on your body language to see you were insecure about it.

“I gotta admit it’s a cool trick doll.” Bucky said.

“Pretty neat.” Steve agreed with a smile.

“Badass.” Sam nodded flicking a still frozen pea at Bucky. “Alright, now that y/n probably has food poisoning, who wants pizza?” Nat asked with a grin. Cheers came from all sides of the table as Clint slumped dejectedly in his seat.

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