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joyful-soul-collector · 4 years

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No problem, kid

Prompt: Fainting

@canonismybitch asked: CONGRATULATIONS ON 400 FOLLOWERS!!! Could I request Fainting for IronDad? (I'm a sucker for Peter whump ngl) also, pretty please could you add me to your tag list?

Thank you so much for requesting this, it was so fun to write! And as you already know by now, yes, you have been added to the tag list ;]

Irondad Tag List: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch @freckledmountain @hold-our-destiny + @badthingshappenbingo

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

TWs: Fainting obviously, some negative self-talk, and while no one has an eating disorder in this fic, I do describe his hunger a lot so if you're triggered by that you may want to be careful

Read on Ao3

Peter hated gym. You’d think that after getting superstrength it’d be more fun, but it was honestly no better than before. At least, not since the “no food outside the cafeteria” rule had been implemented. Apparently a lot of kids thought it was funny to hide food in cupboards so it would mold and rot in there, and the school banned eating any food outside the cafeteria.

This wasn’t a big deal for anyone except for Peter. His enhanced metabolism burned so fast that Tony had compared it to Captain America’s, and Peter had to eat every hour to keep up with it. Hourlies, he called them. Normally you’d never see Peter without a snack in his hand, usually a special protein bar made specifically for his needs, but now Peter’s hands and belly were often empty.

Especially in gym class. Gym was his last class of the day, which meant by now his lunch had been hours ago and his stomach was screaming with hunger. He’d tried to sneak food in the locker room but he was caught almost every time as apparently the lockers were the place the most rotten food had been found, so the teachers kept an extra close eye out.

So here he was, running back and forth across the gym, his stomach rumbling so loud Ned could hear it beside him.

“Jesus Peter,” Ned muttered as his belly gave a particularly loud growl. “Are you like, okay?”

“No, I’m fucking starving,” Peter said, rubbing his middle as it spasmed painfully. “God I hate this. It’s only been a week and I feel like I’m going insane.”

“This can’t be good for you Peter, you should really tell someone,” Ned said worriedly. “I really don’t like seeing you going hungry like this.” Peter gave a small chuckle as they started running again.

“I tried, they didn’t listen to me. But I’m alright, I’m Spider-Man, a little hunger can’t stop me,” he said. But when his stomach rumbled so loud Peter saw a couple people glance at him, Ned raised his eyebrows.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe that was ‘a little hunger’,” he said. Peter’s face went red and he looked away, quiet. Well, quiet except for his belly.

They ran in relative silence for a few minutes, until somehow, Peter actually started to feel worse. Something he didn’t actually know was possible.

His head started pounding and his vision began swimming lazily as a wave of nausea overtook him. Peter stumbled, and was buffeted to the side by several runners behind him, almost falling over until Ned caught him by the elbows.

“Peter? Peter are you okay!?” he asked, the look of worry distorted in Peter’s eyes.

“I-I think I’m gonna pass out,” Peter mumbled. Peter fell against the wall and slid into a sitting position, clutching his face in his hands as the world swam around him.

“Shit, shit, I knew this was gonna happen,” Ned said. “Okay, let’s get you to the nurse.”

Peter nodded, and stood up.

But suddenly, the world was black, and the biting hunger was gone.

~~~

“Kid. Kid, wake up, c’mon Pete, let’s get you back to the tower,” said a voice, slowly pulling Peter back to consciousness.

“Mmm?” Peter opened his eyes to find a slightly blurry, concerned face looking down at him. Tony. “Oh. Hey, Tony.”

The frown in Tony’s brow deepened and he made a noise of sympathy.

“Jeez, you really are sick, aren’t you? Why did you go to school like this?” Peter raised his eyebrows.

“They told you I was sick?” he mumbled, sitting up and massaging his stomach as the deep ache returned.

“What else would they have told me?” Tony asked. Peter sighed and shook his head.

“Let’s just go. I’ll explain when we get in the car,” he muttered. Peter pushed himself up with shaking arms and Tony gently put his hand under one of his elbows to help him up.

“You’re shaking,” Tony said, concern now filling his voice.

“I know,” Peter said grimly. “I just wanna get out of here.” Tony opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it and quickly started the process of signing Peter out of school. Peter sat at one of the chairs in the main office, hugging his backpack to his aching tummy, willing it not to growl in the quiet room.

Eventually they were able to leave, and they made their way as quickly as they could to the car Tony had parked out front. Tony took his backpack and put it in the trunk while Peter eased himself into the passenger seat. He pressed his fingers deep into his belly as it cramped with hunger.

“I know, I know,” he muttered to his stomach, hearing the trunk slam behind him. “We’ll eat in a little bit. Not long now.” Tony sat in the driver's seat a second later, and looked at Peter with concern.

“Alright kid. Out with it, what’s going on?” he said, putting on hand comfortingly on Peter’s knee. Peter opened his mouth, but his stomach interrupted him with a loud growl.

It was so loud Peter could feel the empty rumbles against his palms, and he closed his eyes in embarrassment and misery, curling in on himself and wishing he would sink into the earth forever.

“Jesus… kid was that your stomach?” he heard Tony say, the sympathy in his voice making Peter’s ears turn red.

“I-I haven’t eaten anything since lunch,” Peter muttered. “That’s why I passed out.” He suddenly felt his eyes start to sting. God this was such a stupid thing to cry about. He’s just hungry, this isn’t the end of the world, so why does he feel so awful?

“Oh, oh god Peter, okay, it’ll be alright kid, let’s just get you something to eat then, yeah?” Tony said, quickly starting up the car and driving out of the parking lot. Peter just nodded, unable to trust his voice to keep steady and trying his best not to let the tears spill from his eyes. It was another minute before Tony spoke again.

“Why did the school tell me you were just sick? Why haven’t you eaten in so long, kid? We set up your Hourlies months ago, and with how you look right now I’d have a hard time believing you just forgot--”

“The school made a rule that we can’t eat outside the cafeteria. So the only times I’ve been able to eat are before school, at lunch, and sometimes I can sneak something between classes in the bathroom if I have enough time. They probably told you I was sick because no one else has passed out from hunger yet, so they assumed I was just the idiot who decided to go to school sick,” Peter said, massaging his tummy as it continued to spasm and gurgle. “Though I have a feeling Ned told them what happened and they just ignored him. Teachers don’t tend to listen to us. I even tried to tell a teacher I had some sort of stomach condition so I had to eat more often, but they just started pressing for details and saying they wanted to get a doctors note and permission from Aunt May and all this shit and I just… honestly I just decided to give up and deal with it. Even though I know Aunt May would give permission, I can’t get a doctor’s note, and I hate the idea of being singled out as The One Kid who’s allowed to eat in class. That’s a great way to get everyone to have a grudge against you.”

“Jeez…” Tony said. “How long has this been going on?”

“A week,” Peter muttered.

“Kid, are you telling me you’ve been going hungry like this for a whole week? Why didn’t you tell me?” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know, I just… after getting told no by the teacher I just didn’t bother. I haven’t been able to focus or think all week and I just… I didn’t even consider it. I’m sorry,” Peter said. Tony sighed and gave him a small pat on the shoulder.

“It’s alright, nothing to be sorry for, this isn’t your fault,” he said, turning into the parking lot of a McDonalds. “A couple Big Macs you’re thinkin’ kid?” he asked. Peter’s belly answered with a deep grumble, and Tony nodded. “Four then. With fries and a milkshake.”

Peter nodded shyly, and Tony gave him an encouraging smile as he got out of the car and hurried to the building to order Peter’s food.

Peter took a deep breath, curling in on himself and hugging his stomach, clenching his teeth as more tears stung his eyes, eventually spilling out and rolling down his face.

“Dammit, no, stop it, stop it stop it stop it, not again,” Peter muttered, wiping his eyes furiously on his sleeves.

Peter had cried almost every day since the ban had started, and honestly couldn’t figure out why. The first time happened at lunch, and he was barely able to keep his composure before rushing to the bathroom and bursting into tears. Another time had actually been at breakfast oddly enough, Aunt May had almost had him stay home from school. The time before now had been yesterday when he got home, tears rolling silently down his face as he dragged several containers of food out of the fridge.

“Stop it, what’s wrong with you, you’re fine, stop being so stupid Peter, god. This isn’t something you cry over, you’re just hungry, you’re not dying, so stop being a fucking idiot--” The sound of the car door opening startled him into silence, and he looked up in surprise.

“Alright kiddo, I got your food, I don’t often like using the ‘I’m famous’ card but considering the circumstances I thought we should be fast--” he cut off as he caught sight of Peter’s face. “Oh Pete, are you crying?”

“No! No, I-I’m fine, it’s stupid, I--”

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s okay,” Tony said softly, sitting down and shutting the door. He held out the bag and Peter felt his mouth watering fervently as the smell hit his nose. His belly clenched hard and he quickly took the bag, trembling fingers wrapping around the greasy burger and opening it.

The first bite sent Peter’s tummy into a frenzy, begging loudly for more, which he was all too happy to oblige. He started breathing heavily as he stuffed more food into his mouth, the tears spilling out of his eyes causing small whines of frustration between bites.

And the tears only increased when Tony smoothed a hand on his back and started whispering words of comfort to him.

“It’s okay buddy, you’re gonna be alright,” he said softly. Peter finished the burger a minute later, and he sat for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, gripping his knees and taking several slow, deep breaths. He was nowhere near satisfied, he still had three burgers, fries, and a milkshake left after all, but he finally felt well enough for the tears to ease a bit and let him speak.

“I… I’m sorry I cried like that, I don’t know what’s wrong with me--”

“Woah, hey, no it’s okay to cry Pete, you’re alright,” Tony said, rubbing more circles into Peter’s back.

“Yeah, I know, it’s just I don’t do that usually, but I’ve just been it doing all week and I don’t understand--”

“Peter, you haven’t been able to properly eat for a week. That really messes with you, both physically and emotionally. Your body and mind are overwhelmed and honestly, when that happens, you cry. Anyone who’s in your position would feel the same,” he said. Tony moved his hand from Peter’s back and put it under his chin, coaxing him to look up. “It’s okay, kiddo. You’re not being irrational. You just get some more food in your belly, and I’ll get us home, okay?”

Peter sniffed and nodded with a watery smile. Tony brushed a tear from Peter’s cheek and smiled back before starting the car.

Peter finished another burger by the time they got to the tower, now feeling well enough to walk without his knees shaking. When they got to the living quarters they sat on the couch together, Peter tucked safely under Tony’s arm, munching happily on his burger and dipping his fries in his milkshake while they watched Star Wars. Peter went to sleep with his stomach heavy and full of food, and when he went back to school on Monday, the ban had been lifted for reasons nobody seemed to know.

Peter sent Tony a thank you text that morning, crunching down happily on a granola bar in homeroom.

No problem, kid.

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