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hold-our-destiny · 4 months

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Prompt Masterlist 2

Masterlist

Prompt Masterlist 1

Prompt Masterlist 3

December and Morgan

Food and animals

Hearing about Peter Parker

Crowded places

“Are you coming home for dinner?”

Olives on a pizza

Walks take forever

“It’s not my birthday.”

“GET OUT! NOW!”

Video games

“You’re such a freak.”

“You’re alive?”

Worrying Dad Mentor forgets all about the eggplants

The Dad Look

"I’m not poisonous - I’m venomous.”

Tessa the dog

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

The double tuck

Dancing lessons

5 times Peter wasn’t venomous and the one time he was.

Baby it’s cold outside

Like Father Mentor, Like Son Mentee

Enough is enough

Bisexual!Peter

Hulk’s tea

Wisdom Teeth

DNA

Drowning

The boy in the Captain America pajama

A surprise for Father’s Day

Sleeping in

Why Tony buys the Daily Bugle

Tony’s worst nightmare

Peter has glasses

De-aged Peter

Tony Stark is a Lizard Person

Lego Spider-Man

Mission Convince-May-Parker-That-They-Are-All-Cool-Enough-To-Hang-Out-With-Her-Nephew Part 2

No more screaming

Rescue

And Now Pavlov Part 2

Michelle meets Tony Stark

The spell

Troubles with the bank

Peter wants to help

Peter is homeless

Does Peter like Captain America more than Iron Man?

Peter is worthy

Peter stops the train

The Dad Battle Part 2

Bio!Mom Pepper Part 2 Part 3

“You’re one of my weaknesses.”

Tony kills Peter

Tony and Nat

Peter and Peter

Sensory overload

Peter has to apologize

Punk!Peter

Vision is coming back

“JARVIS, sometimes you have to run before you can walk.”

Pepper has to deal with her teenage son

The Heimlich

Peter runs SI

Buried alive

Tony meets the Parker Brothers

Princess Diaries!AU

Getting JARVIS back

Dyslexic!Peter

Spideychelle - the Fashion Show

How Tony finds out that his intern and his protégé are the same person

Not another Death Star situation

Iron Man isn’t cool anymore

The car accident

The Shirt

Finding Tony’s happiness

At a fancy restaurant

Tony’s first cheese burger

Peter ships Ironstrange

“It”

MJ and Tony

Deciding which room Peter will get

The origin story of C-3PO, BB-8, and R2-D2

Rhodey and Happy at Peter’s career day

Peter isn’t ready yet

Is Peter replacing Tony with Dr. Strange?

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hold-our-destiny · 4 months

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𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

gif credit

summary || when your car breaks down on the side of the road and your dad can’t come rescue you, he sends the next best thing.

pairing || dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader

word count || 2,434 words

warnings || significant age gap (reader in 20′s, bucky in late 30′s), car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, alcohol consumption, sloppy sex, bucky teases you a lot, thigh riding, pet-names, fingering, finger sucking, size kink, metal arm kink, praise kink, slight edging, bucky finishing in you, talk of masturbation (in passing) — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || if i see you plagiarize my work i will personally steal all of your left shoes and right socks

Keep reading

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hold-our-destiny · 4 months

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BOOT RIDING RANSOM PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

⟶ hard leather • ransom drysdale

summary || when your boss flirts with you, ransom reminds you who you belong to.

word count || ~ 1,000 words

warnings || heavy degradation, heavy name-calling (slut), mocking, boot riding, ransom being an asshole, possessive!ransom — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || maybe i have a new kink

Ransom’s jaw tensed, clenching as he finished the last sip of his whiskey before placing the expensive glass down on the equally expensive marble countertop.

“What? You’re not even gonna talk to me now?” You scoffed, shaking your head at this unbelievable behaviour.

He just cocked his head to look at you as he calmly stood up and smoothed the wrinkles of his sweater.

“Are you going to apologize?” He finally spoke up, a sound of disbelief leaving your lips at his words.

“I have nothing to apologize for.” You were starting to feel your blood boil as Ransom just stood there staring you down.

“If I remember correctly you’re the one that nearly put my boss in a headlock for speaking to me!”

Ransom chuckled at the memory, his ego being fed as you rolled your eyes.

“He was fucking flirting with you,” Ransom’s voice finally boomed, but you just shook your head.

Suddenly he was directly in front of you, gripping your face tightly between his fingers, “but I guess I must’ve forgotten that you’re just a little slut.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, a small whimper leaving at the pressure being placed on each cheek as Ransom’s eyes darkened.

You should’ve felt insulted and even degraded by a word like that, but instead, you felt that familiar ache between your thighs.

“That’s right,” he purred, “you’re nothin’ but a slut who needs to be reminded who you fucking belong to.”

Your stomach flipped and your heart skipped a beat as Ransom pushed you down to the ground.

You were met head on with his core, cock bulging slightly behind his expensive pants as you awaited for the sound of his belt undoing.

It never came.

Instead you were left waiting in anticipation with a confused look on your face.

“My dumb little baby,” he cooed, running a finger over your bottom lip.

“So trained and ready for my cock, huh?” He cocks his head and you can’t help but feel your body flush at his words.

“Knees apart,” he suddenly switches tones, gently kicking your knees as your confusion furthered.

When he was content with your position is where he placed his large boot between your thighs to where your covered core was barely hovering over it.

You swallowed thickly, “Ransom?” You squeaked, not sure what he wanted from you.

“You’re going to ride my boot, Kitten.” He smirked, proud of himself as your eyes went wide at the realization.

You shook your head, “I-I,” you were blabbering because this was new.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” He growled, softly as he placed his hand on the back of your neck in a soothing manner.

“C’mon Kitten, there you go, wrap your arms around my leg.” He encouraged as you did so, thick thighs being your leverage.

You didn’t know why this turned you on so much, his fingers in your hair as you experimentally rocked back and forth over his boot.

It was a new and slightly strange sensation, but pleasurable nonetheless.

He laughed, “look at my little slut, ridin’ my fuckin’ boot.”

You whimpered, nodding your head as your hips moved faster. Every so often he would raise his foot upwards to meet your core and it sent shocks of pleasure throughout your body.

“This’ll teach you a lesson as to who owns you,” he hummed, your grip on his leg tightening.

“Now say it, slut,” he demanded, “say who owns your pussy or I won’t let you cum.”

You choked out a moan, “y-you, Ransom. ‘M all yours.”

The layers of fabric didn’t do anything to stop the sensation, humping his boot until you felt yourself getting closer.

“Good girl,” he praised, “you’re gonna cum all over your pretty panties Kitten?” He teased as you nodded your head.

You could no longer find the words as your lower abdomen started to contract, “make a mess in your panties like the slut you are.”

His gravelly voice sent you over the edge as your hips stuttered and you buried your face in his leg as you came with a squeak.

Your heartbeat reverberated in your ears as you caught your breath, fingers and arms loosening their grip on his thigh as you opened your eyes.

“There’s my Kitten,” Ransom purred, helping you stand on your weak legs.

“Now don’t fuckin’ forget who own you. Or I’ll have you ride my boot in public.” His words sent a delicious shiver down your spine and something inside of you ignited.

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hold-our-destiny · 4 months

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How about a Peter and Tony must sacrifice a special memory to survive a witch's attack? Tony remembers Peter, but for some reason Peter doesn't.

This turned out a lot longer than I expected and I maybe continue this because I still have so many ideas! Thanks for the great prompt!

The second Tony opened his eyes, he knew something was missing. It wasn’t just the fact that he knew he had to sacrifice a special memory to break the witch’s curse which would’ve disintegrate all their organs. It took him less than a second – a heartbeat in which he saw Peter’s raw panic as his lungs stopped functioning – to decide that he wouldn’t be able to even think about out-witting the damn witch.

No, it was a feeling very familiar to forgetting a word but having it right on the tip of your tongue. Like an itch inside his brain that told him something was wrong, but he just couldn’t remember. For a second, Tony tried to remember. But how do you remember something if the memory had literally been taken out of your brain? Everything seemed to be in order, nothing was out of place – and yet there was still that itchy feeling.

Talk about a day gone wrong. They’d spent their day walking around Queens, Peter had shown him all his favorite places, including his favorite rooftop and his favorite lunch at Mr. Delma’s, and then they’d walked right into the witch. Tony didn’t know if she’d waited specifically for them or if it was a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, but it happened. The witch was gone now, leaving them alone in small alleyway.

A sound next to him broke his stupor. Peter. He turned around just in time to see him scrunch his face and lazily open his eyes. Before the boy could even move a single muscle, Tony was by his side. “Peter, are you alright?” Peter’s eyes darted to him, mirroring the kind of confusion Tony had just felt a minute before, but he kept silent. Somewhat concerned – Peter was not one to be quiet – he reached out to touch his shoulder.

Peter flinched. He physically flinched away from his touch. He didn’t want Tony to touch him.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. A cold, daunting feeling settled in his stomach that spread quickly. Tony’s brain refused to work. Because if it would, it would figure out why Peter had flinched. Why he still looked so confused. And that just couldn’t be happening.

But Peter Parker wasn’t one to be quiet.

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but who are you?”

It was a good thing Tony was kneeling, otherwise he could’ve seriously hurt himself, because his legs gave out. He briefly wondered if the curse wasn’t broken after all, because his lungs and his heart stopped working. There was a single thought on repeat in his head. Peter forgot me. Peter forgot me. Peter forgot me.

Peter was still looking at him with this damn confused look in his eyes. “This isn’t funny,” Tony somehow choked out.

“It isn’t suppose to be,” he answered, slowly sitting up while keeping his distance from the man. His eyes were still on Tony and his whole body was on alert, as if he was ready to jump to his feet and flee at any given moment.

That hurt so damn much.

“You don’t remember me?”

“No.” Peter pulled his eyebrows together, finally looking away from Tony. The billionaire thought that the absence of his gaze would let him breath again. It did not. “I know this sounds crazy, but … wasn’t there a … well, I don’t know how to explain it, but wasn’t there a witch around here somewhere?”

“There was.”

“She made me give up a memory.” It did not escape Tony that Peter had said me, not us. Me. As in singular. As in not including Tony.

“We both had to, otherwise we would’ve died a very cruel death.” Peter paled and Tony regretted his words instantly.

“O-Oh,” he said, probably in an attempt to sound brave. Tony desperately wished Peter knew he didn’t need to act tough in front of him. “Is … Could that be the reason why I don’t know who you are?”

“I think so.” I fucking hope so.

“What did you forget?” Before Tony could even open his mouth, the boy shook his head, his cheeks bright red. “I just realized that that’s a very stupid question. Sorry. I think the magic is still messing with my head. I swear I’m usually smarter than that.”

The words Yeah, I know where on the tip of his tongue, but he had a sudden idea that hit him like a truck. Magic. Magic.

“I can fix this,” he said more to himself than to Peter.

“My stupidity?”

“You’re not stupid,” Tony corrected him without missing a beat, getting to his feet. His head was spinning from thinking three miles a second. “I can fix this, the memory loss.”

“How? Do you know magic?” Peter’s eyes were as big as saucers as he somewhat shakenly got to his feet.

“No, but I know someone. C’mon kid, we need to go to Greenwich Village.” Tony was already halfway to his car when he noticed that Peter wasn’t following him. “Peter, let’s go.” Peter wasn’t moving. Instead he was just frowning at him, like he was trying to solve an especially difficult equation. The need to move started to swell up in Tony’s chest because every second that the kid didn’t remember him was a bad second, but he waited. At least he tried to, which, you know, it was the thought that counted. “We should really hurry up. Get this thing sorted out before dinner to avoid the rush hour traffic.”

He still wasn’t moving. But this time, he opened his mouth. “I don’t even know your name.”

There were very few people who didn’t know who Tony Stark was. Peter was one of them now. Tony’s heart ached like it hadn’t had before.

For a second he could just stare at Peter, the boy he now saw as his own kid, the boy who made the room a little brighter the second he walked in, the boy that inspired him to be better, be better for him, and Tony wasn’t able to form a single thought. Then the second passed and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He could drown in his feeling the second they would fix their memories.

“You can call me Tony,” he said nonchalantly.

Peter looked suspicious. “Just Tony? Or is it, like, Mr. Tony?”

“Do not call me Mr. Tony. Just Tony is fine.” The billionaire almost rolled his eyes. “Now that you know my name, can we go now?”

“Look, Tony,” he started to explain, and Tony almost got distracted by the fact that Peter had actually called him Tony, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know you. And I was taught to not get into cars with strangers.”

In any other situation, Tony would’ve approved of Peter’s fear of stranger danger, but not now. “You do know me. The witch just stole your memory of me.”

“But isn’t it the same as not knowing you?”

“Then let me prove it. Your name is Peter Benjamin Parker, you’re sixteen, you go to Midtown High, you live with your aunt on the seventh floor in a crappy apartment building with next to no security at all, which, by the way, is a thing that bothers me a lot.” Peter blinked, obviously a bit taken back by his words. Panic was rising in Tony’s chest, so he just kept going. “Not enough? Okay. You’re Spider-Man.”

His eyes grew at an alarming rate. “W-What? How do y-you- I mean, I’m not – Who is Spider-Man? Never heard of him before.”

“You’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider on a field trip to OsCorp, and since then you swing around Queens, helping the little guy and being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. You used to mix your web fluids in school inside your desk, before I gave you access to my labs. You started being Spider-Man because of your uncle, who tragically died a year ago. Your best friend is Ned Leeds who is very talented at hacking and coding. You both build Star Wars Lego sets whenever you find the time. Before the bite, you had asthma and big, nerdy glasses. Your favorite colors are red and blue. You dumpster dive and build absolutely amazing things out of these scraps. You like the sandwiches from the bodega in your neighborhood the best when it’s squished down real flat.” Tony took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows. “Should I continue? Because I can.”

Slowly, Peter shook his head. “No. But, I mean, it does sound a bit like you’re a stalker.”

Tony couldn’t help but snort. “I’m not, I promise.”

The look in his eyes changed and Tony just hoped that that was a good thing. After a few heartbeats that felt like an eternity, Peter whispered: “I never told anybody that I started because of Ben.”

Tony wanted to go over to the kid and pull him in a hug because he sounded so lost and confused, and the man just couldn’t stand it. However, he didn’t move a single muscle. He couldn’t risk scaring him away. “You told me.”

Time stood still while they just looked at each other. Then, finally, Peter nodded. “Okay.”

Tony blinked. “Okay?”

“Okay. Let’s go to Greenwich Village.”

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hold-our-destiny · 4 months

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Hey babe, dunno if you're okay with accepting prompts and you totally don't have to do this but anyway I really love the stuff you've written so far. So if you're up for it, consider this prompt where it's a parallel scene to Iron Man 3 and Tony has a nightmare. Pepper tries to wake him and almost gets blasted by one of his suits. Except this time it's Peter who tries to wake him and the suit actually does blast Peter.

Thank you! :) I had so much fun with this prompt, thanks for sending it!

“Hey Mr. Stark, do you-“ Peter stops as he looks up from his latest batch experimental web fluid and over to his mentor. For the past few hours – well, days, according to FRIDAY – Tony has been sitting hunched over his workbench, completely engrossed in his work and ignoring that he is a normal human being with normal human needs, like sleeping or eating.

The nanobots of his new suit are not functioning the way they should be. They’re not following Tony’s commands the way he wants them to, because they aren’t entirely synched up with his thoughts yet. He found the cause of the problem easily enough, but fixing it… that’s an entirely different story. The nanobots are currently connected to Tony’s brain, studying the brainwaves and mapping them out, learning which thought leads to which command. It’s important work if Tony wants the suit to function the way he envisions it, but it’s absolutely strenuous and exhausting.

Now, his need to sleep finally took over. Tony’s head lays on the workbench, electrodes still connected to his skull, and the soldering iron in his hand smolders slightly. No matter how fascinating it is to watch a genius like Tony Stark work, making the impossible possible, Peter can’t help but relax at that sight. It’s good that he finally gets some rest – even though he should probably be in a bed.

Peter tiptoes over to his mentor and gently prays the soldering iron out of his hand, switching it off before they accidently set the entire Tower on fire. As he debates whether he should carry him over to the couch – or at least put a pillow under his head – Peter notices the pained expression on Tony’s face and hears a soft whimper. He recognizes it at once, having experienced the same often enough: a nightmare.

“Mr. Stark, wake up. It’s just a dream.” Peter gently shakes his shoulder, but he doesn’t get any reaction. Quite the opposite. Tony scrunches his face even more, visibly flinching when the boy touches him. “Mr. Stark?”

Suddenly, Peter’s spidey sense goes crazy, sending shock waves through his entire body. He jumps up, looking around for the incoming danger – and comes face to face with a fully assembled Iron Man suit. For a split second, he can only stare at the unexpressive mask with the glowing eyes, but it’s a split second too long. The suit raises his hand, repulsor already charged, and shoots him.

Peter hits the bulletproof glass walls of the lab before he can comprehend what happened. Something cracked, but he can’t tell if it was the glass or his spine. He tries to take a breath but he can’t; not only because his lungs seem to not be working right now, but also because the Iron Man suit followed him, having a choking grip around his throat and pressing him against the glass, his feet floating a few inches above the ground.

Never in his entire life has Peter been afraid of Iron Man. Not when he first saw him on TV, or when he stood in the middle of the Stark Expo disaster and witnessed the suit in action with his own eyes, or when he saw how easily he killed the Chitauri aliens. Never. Quite the opposite, actually. He always felt protected because he knew that Tony was inside the suit. But now, as he stares at the emotionless mask and the sound of the charging repulsor rings in his ears, Peter is absolutely terrified, frozen in place.

The repulsor fires.

Peter waits for the inevitable impact and it does come, but different than he expected. Instead of feeling unimaginable pain, gravity takes over and he falls to the floor. Before him, in a pile of deconstructed pieces, lays the Iron Man suit. He can only stare at it, half expecting it to re-assemble itself and springing back into action, but it doesn’t. Then, he hears a noise, one can’t identify, and looks up.

Tony stands a couple of feet in front of him. The wires from the electrodes on his head are ripped. His arm is raised, encased in an Iron Man glove, the glowing of the repulsor fading slowly. All of that should be enough to focus on, but it’s not what worries Peter. It’s the absolutely horrified expression on Tony’s face that demands all of his attention. His face is paler than white, his eyes impossibly wide, and his mouth agape. Tony doesn’t take a single breath.

For a tense second, they just stare at each other. “T-Thanks,” Peter finally croaks. His throat hurts, and he swallows twice to get rid of the feeling.

Tony takes a deep breath. Peter realizes that the man is shaking. “Fuck,” he curses, eyes jumping from Peter to the suit and back. “Fuck! Shit!” Mad as hell, the mechanic rips his glove off and throws it against the wall. The remaining electrodes follow quickly, and Peter stares at him and listens to him cursing in ways he never heard before.

“It-It’s fine, Mr. Stark.” He scrambles onto his feet, flinching at the pain in his back. “I’m fine.”

That is obviously the wrong thing to say. Tony whirls around, trying to contain his anger but failing absolutely horribly at it. “Nothing is fine!” he screams and stamps over to him. “I almost killed you!”

Peter does his best to stand his ground. “It wasn’t you, it was the suit.”

“The fucking suit that was connected to my own fucking brain!” Tony’s eyes are getting wet, and Peter realizes that the man isn’t angry at him. He’s angry at himself, terrified, and frantic. He blames himself for hurting Peter, but Peter doesn’t blame him. Not in the slightest. That thought hasn’t even crossed his mind.

“It’s okay-“

“No!” The man turns away again, wiping everything from the closest workbench on the floor in a fit of anger. “No, Peter! I- … Nothing is okay! You almost- Shit!” And then, softer, almost inaudible, he adds: “Not again.”

Peter wants to ask what he means by again, but he doesn’t dare it. He wants Tony to calm down, not start spiraling. Or spiral even further. While he tries to calm his racing heart down, he stares at Tony’s back and desperately thinks about what to say. But he has no idea. Tony has always been the one to calm him down, somehow finding the right words despite his claims to be terrible at emotional talks. Peter wishes he has the same talent, but everything that comes to mind is It’s okay, I’m fine – which is apparently the wrong thing to say.

Then, Tony pushes away from the table and turns to face him. He sniffs once, and his face is full of determination. “I’m destroying the nanobots. All of them.”

That isn’t what Peter expected at all. “What? No! You can’t! They’re awesome!”

“They’re too fucking dangerous,” he growls, taking to steps towards him. “That’s the end of it.”

“You can’t destroy them because of one accident.”

“One accident that almost killed you!”

“But it was just an accident! I know you would never hurt me!” His words stop Tony, who only blinks at him. Peter, being the smart boy he is, takes that opportunity. “It was a knee jerk reaction. Like, when I flinch because your music is a bit too loud. Or when I break a door knob accidently. It was just a bad reaction to a nightmare.”

“I hurt you,” Tony says and suddenly his voice is so full of hurt that Peter seriously wonders who got slammed into a wall.

Peter shakes his head. “Not on purpose. You never would.”

Tony doesn’t move for an uncharacteristically long time. Peter stares back, not moving himself, praying that that was the right thing to say. Then, almost hesitantly, Tony asks: “Are you hurt?”

He reaches out to Peter, but his hand stops mid-air, like he isn’t sure if he is allowed to touch him. Like he is afraid to hurt him. Well, that can’t be happening. Before Peter can even think twice about it, he moves forward and wraps his arms around Tony, resting his head on his shoulder. Slowly, the icy fear that has filled his veins, melts away. “Nothing that won’t heal. I had rougher patrols.”

After what feels like an eternity, Tony hugs Peter back. If you can describe it as a hug. He crushes Peter against him, holding him as close as possible. His repeated apologies almost drown out Tony’s too fast heartbeat that drums in Peter’s ears. He honestly can’t say who is consoling who.

Peter never sees that particular suit that attacked him again. When he asks about it, Tony ignores him and FRIDAY has orders not to answer him. Tony continues his work on the nanobots, but never when Peter or anyone else is anywhere near the lab. According to FRIDAY, Tony makes sure to always take enough breaks in between to get some rest. Peter should be happy about it, but, somehow, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

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hold-our-destiny · 4 months

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I don't know if you accept requests but if you're up for it could you write something where Peter gets rescued from a kidnapping and Tony is trying to help him recover but Peter only views Tony as his next "Master" and he's learning all of Tony's "rules" to satisfy him, like 'eating regularly' and 'crying is bad'. So just when Tony thinks Peter is okay, it's comes out that Peter is just satisfying the rules and getting no where with recovery ;)

Of course, just when Tony thinks everything will be alright, it turns out nothing is alright. At all. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of all right.

Peter has been kidnapped by an anti-mutant extremist group that found out Spider-Man’s real identity. Five weeks, three days, eighteen hours, and thirty-six minutes later, the entire Avengers team stormed their secret hide-out, showing no mercy to anyone in there, all of them too consumed by their rage and revenge for taking their youngest teammate. Tony found Peter in a cell, screaming from the top of his lungs about some rules and trashing around, obviously not knowing what was happening. They had to knock him out to get him to the jet, all the while the unbearable guilt inside Tony’s chest ate its way through all of his organs.

Bruce checked him out as soon as they arrived at the compound, finding no trace of injuries or drugs in his body. If they’ve done anything to him, it would’ve been a long time ago. Tony didn’t know if those news were good or bad, thinking about the extreme way Peter has reacted to them. When Peter woke up hours later, he had troubles remembering any of them and was very cautious of anyone stepping in front of him. For days, he just sat in his bed, unmoving and barely reacting to any of them. Always just watching though, as if he was waiting for a specific thing to happen. Tony tried to get him to open up by bringing him food and talking about anything that crossed his mind, hoping it would jumpstart his memory.

And it did help. After a couple of days, Peter willingly accepted the food Tony brought him, gave him a few timid smiles that quickly grew wider, and he laughed about his jokes. Soon, they transferred him from the medbay to his old room. Peter was still hesitant about the other Avengers, sticking close to Tony’s side and just watching everyone else, but the mechanic didn’t pay it a lot of attention, too high on all the serotonins because Peter was finally recovering. They ate together, they watched movies together, he even started helping him out in the lab sometimes, marveling over his Iron Man suits and all his other creations as if he’s never seen them before.

Everything was fine – until Tony starts noticing things.

The first thing he notices are the cheeseburgers. For five days in a row, Peter asks for cheeseburgers. Which was always fine with Tony, he loves cheeseburgers – but Peter loves pizza. He can live off of pizza, even those weird combinations like hot dog pizza (“Buddy, if you want a hot dog, we can just make them, we don’t need to put them on a pizza.”- “But, Mr. Stark, it’s so much better this way!”). Not once has the boy askes for a pizza. Then there are the snacks. Because of his metabolism, Peter needs a lot of food, hence all the snacks. But he gets himself snacks exactly every two and a half hours like clockwork. And it’s always the same, always the exact same snack Tony brought him the first time: a few crackers, some cheese, and an apple. Peter laughs at his jokes and smiles whenever he sees him – and that’s it. He never smiles at someone else, never laughs about any of Clint’s dad jokes that usually have him snorting his drink through his nose. No, he doesn’t laugh - not unless Tony laughs first.

But the biggest sign that something is wrong is his movie choice.

“What do you wanna watch?” Tony asks, already dreading the answer. Because he knows what he’ll answer.

“The Breakfast Club,” Peter answers with a wide smile. They watch this movie every day. It’s the movie Tony chose when they first watched a movie together.

“Peter, what’s going on?” he asks instead of ordering FRIDAY to start the movie, unable to ignore this.

For a second, something slips off Peter’s face, and Tony can see a frightful look in his eyes. Then, before he can even process what he just saw, the boy is smiling again. “What do you mean? We’re watching a movie.”

“Yeah, the one we’ve watched every day. At the exact same time.”

Peter starts to fidget, picking the dirt from underneath his fingernails. “I-I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Don’t you wanna watch something else?”

At once, he shakes his head, almost in a panic. “No! No, I don’t! I like the movie, I do!”

“More than Star Wars?”

“Yes!”

This is the final nail in the coffin. Something is definitely wrong.

“Peter, don’t lie to me!” Tony isn’t screaming, but he can’t keep his worry and frustration out of his voice. However, he’s not getting the reaction he’d anticipated. No, it’s much worse.

Peter flinches, startled by his loud voice – and then he starts to smile. A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes (that are full of fear, Tony realizes with a sharp pain in his chest), but it looks just like the one he’s seen these past few days. “What the-“ Tony whispers, the puzzle pieces inside his head getting pieced together with every passing second.

Peter doesn’t stop there. Whatever he’s seeing can’t be funny, because the situation is as far from funny as it can get, but he still starts to laugh. High and carefree and, now that Tony knows what he has to look out for, totally fake.

“Stop it,” he orders and gets to his feet. Tony tries so hard not to let all of the turbulent emotions and the hot anger – at himself, at those bastards who took him, at the universe for doing this – inside him show.

It doesn’t work. Peter almost jumps up from the couch, the laugh stopping at once. “I-I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, the words tumbling out of his mouth almost too fast to understand them, “I’ll be better, I promise! I’ll do better, I’ll follow the rules better, please. Please, I promise!” Tony can do nothing but stare at him in utter disbelieve, and Peter presses himself into the couch, making himself as small as possible. “I-I just-… You didn’t give me rules and I thought I had them figured them out! I’m sorry, I’ll be better, just tell me the rules! Please!”

Tony feels like someone pulled a rug from underneath his feet. He slums back onto the couch, because his legs gave out underneath him. How could he have missed this? And what exactly did those bastards do to him? “What,” he begins with in a hoarse voice and has to clear his throat, “what rules, Peter?”

This seems to take him by surprise. He pulls his eyebrows together, looking at him like he is trying to figure out if this is a test of some sorts. “The rules. The ones I have to follow. Like… Like eating cheeseburgers. And a lot of snacks.”

“And watching The Breakfast Club,” Tony finishes for him. Peter nods his head eagerly, obviously happy that he got the rules right. All Tony can do is bury his head inside his hands and take a deep breath. Has he been blinded by his wish for Peter’s recovery that he didn’t notice that the boy is not recovering? Has he been so desperate for it? Tony replays the last days inside his head, tries to figure out if he’d said or done anything specific that made Peter think there are rules for him to follow. But he can’t find any. “Were there rules in the… other place?”

“Of course,” he answers immediately. “No talking, no running away, no leaving my room, always doing what they tell me to do, no looking them in the eyes.”

Tony wants to turn back time to storm that hideout again, just so he could punch those guys again. Hard. Repetitively. And then some.

Slowly, he raises his head again to look at Peter, who is still pressed against the back of the couch. He thinks about just telling him that there are no rules for him to follow, but seeing that Peter immediately searched for new rules, Tony isn’t sure that that’s really the smartest move. They probably need an expert to get past this coping mechanism or whatever it is, and Tony may be an expert in many areas, but not this one.

So, damage control. At least, for now.

Taking another deep breath, Tony sits up again. “The cheeseburgers and snacks and whatever aren’t the rules.” At once, Peter’s eyes widen, panic written all over his face, so the mechanic hurries to continue. “But I’m not mad. I uh, I haven’t explained them, so that’s on me. Okay? Not your fault.” Peter gives him a very hesitant and short nod, like he can’t understand the concept that something isn’t his fault. Tony forces himself to ignore that, because he needs to deal with one problem at a time. “There’s only one rule. A very simple one. You ready for it?” The boy gives an eager nod. “Don’t lie to me. Okay? Don’t tell me anything because you think I want to hear it. Don’t tell me you want cheeseburgers just because I like them.”

“But…” Peter doesn’t finish his sentence and stares at Tony with a bewildered expression. “That… that’s all?”

“Yes.”

“It’s just one rule.”

“I know. But not lying is tougher than it looks.” The boy doesn’t seem convinced, but doesn’t argue either. “You think you can do it?”

“I will try my best.”

“That’s my boy,” Tony says with a smile. He desperately wants to reach out and pull him in a hug, but he doesn’t. Peter still sits at the other end of the couch and made no move to get closer to him. The last thing Tony wants is for Peter to think he has to be close to him, to interpret it as a rule. “Now, I will ask you a question and you have to answer it. Remember, no lying, though.” Peter nods again, his face serious like he’s expecting a meaningful question. And it is a meaningful question. “Do you really like The Breakfast Club better than Star Wars?”

At first, Peter says nothing, probably waiting for more or trying to figure out if there is a hidden meaning to the question. Then, a tentative: “No?”

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“No,” he repeats, this time with more confidence.

For the first time since they started this conversation, the tight knot inside Tony’s chest starts to loosen. It’s still there, but he just hopes – begs, prays – that this is the first real step to recovery. “Great. Now, what about dinner? I could eat something.” Peter nods in agreement and Tony knows this is real, because the boy can always eat something. “Cheeseburgers?”

“Never again.”

Somehow, Tony actually manages a genuine laugh.

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hold-our-destiny · 4 months

Note

If Peter received death threats on social media

“What the fuck is this?”

Peter jumps a bit, not because of the profanity – Tony tries to keep his swearing to a minimum, knowing May doesn’t like it – but because of the harsh and sharp tone of Tony’s voice. He turns around and sees Tony standing near the table where Peter’s phone is charging, staring at the screen that lit up with a message.

The blood in his veins turns to ice. Peter has a pretty good idea what that message says. He’s been getting a lot of them lately.

Tony grabs the phone, still staring at the screen with unknown fury. “Peter, what is this?”

“I-It’s no big deal-“ Peter tries, but he doesn’t get very far.

“No big deal?!” Tony yells, moving his eyes from the phone to Peter. “That’s a death threat! And the fact that you exactly know what I’m talking about means this is not the first one!”

Peter has, in fact, gotten quite a few threatening messages on his Instagram account in the past few days. They started out pretty harmless, only insulting him, but when Peter kept ignoring the messages, they quickly escalated. Peter has never seen the account before, and their profile doesn’t give anything about the person’s identity away, no photos, no followers, not following anyone.

Of course, Peter worried about it, fearing that maybe someone found out that he’s Spider-Man or how close he is to Tony. But neither of those things ever came up, there was no threat to reveal his identity or go to the press. It seems that person simply targeted plain, ordinary Peter Parker. Deciding that it’s probably just some harmless troll, Peter tries his best to ignore the messages.

Tony doesn’t share his opinion.

“You better explain this right now,” he demands, looking like he wants to suit up and fly to where that person is hiding.

“It’s just some harmless messages,” Peter tries to defuse the situation, but based on the twitch around Tony’s eye, he fused the situation up.

“Show me the other messages,” Tony says, holding the phone out for Peter to take. With slumped shoulders, he unlocks it, showing his mentor the other messages. Tony’s mood darkens quite a lot the longer he scrolls through them. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about them?”

“Because I thought they’re just some dumb prank or anything.”

“A prank? Peter, they are describing how they want to kill you. With graphic details.”

Suddenly, Peter feels very small and stupid. Should he have done something about it instead of ignoring it? He always forgot to block the number, because that person had the talent to message him whenever Peter was busy, either at school, patrolling, or in the lab with Tony.

“You don’t just ignore messages like that,” Tony growls, already pulling up a new holo-screen and typing away, probably trying to find out who’s behind the account.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles. “I just thought they’re no big deal.”

“They are a very big deal,” Tony answers back, stopping his revenge plan to turn back to Peter. He lays a hand on his shoulder, making sure he has Peter’s undivided attention before he continues. “Don’t ever take threats lightly, no matter how small they seem. You don’t know who is behind them, it may be a psychopath who actually means them. And I’m not losing you to some petty shit like this, do you understand me?”

“Okay,” Peter nods.

Tony keeps looking at him, like he can’t quite decide if Peter is only telling him what he wants to hear or if he actually means it. “I want you to tell me if you ever get messages like these again, okay? Promise me.”

“Okay.” Tony keeps looking at him. Peter barely manages to not roll his eyes. “I promise to tell you.”

It doesn’t really look like Tony relaxes, but he seems at least a bit more at ease. More like he’s still standing in the middle of a mine field, but at least not directly above one anymore. “I’m gonna take care of this,” he announces in a voice that doesn’t allow any arguments, turning back to the holo-screen.

For a few second, there’s complete and utter silence between them.

“Thank you,” Peter eventually whispers. He isn’t quite sure if he’s thanking him for handling this or for making him promise to not keep it quiet – probably for all of that.

Tony gives him a quick side-glance before smiling reassuringly. “Of course. I’m Iron Man. It’s my job to look after you.”

“That sounds like it’s your job to look after me specifically.”

“Who says it isn’t?”

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