marvelwritings

[marvelwritings]

The fundamental question

Summary: He can barely distinguish his thoughts over the pounding of blood in his ears, not grappling what he just heard. He had been excited for the tea party on the way too, boasted about it even a little to Ned and MJ, and now, he wished that he would get dusted again.He remembers the pain, how he had disintegrated with the wind, all the while trying to hang on for Mr Stark, begging for his help. Still, it was nothing compared to this. This was as grim, albeit in a different way, as the blip. Peter would prefer it to this. 

or: Peter just doesn't feel like himself after coming back from the dead, and after a brutal confession of a certain little girl, he comes crashing down. Tony is there to build him back up.

A/N: it’s been a long time since I’ve poster. Sorry about that! Let me know what you think! If anyone has any requests feel free to send them to my inbox!

Peter feels like he’s a ticking time bomb lately. Lately as in, starting from the moment he got blipped, which to him still seems like weeks ago instead of years for everyone else. He can’t accurately pin point what exactly it is that bothers him, but it is. Bothering him, when he’s helping May cook in the kitchen, when he’s tinkering with Mister Stark in his lab, when he’s at school with Ned and MJ, or when he’s having any sort of free time where his mind is roaming about, no matter how long that lasts. 

Surprisingly, the only time when he’s relieved of the burden is when he’s out as Spider-Man, as if whatever it is that’s been following him around is following Peter Parker, not Spider-Man. If Peter was forced to describe it in any way possible, he would do it like this: it’s reminiscent of his spider senses except more dilated, less like there’s an active threat and more like he should be vigilant at all times.

He doesn’t mention it to anyone, but he doesn’t really know why. He feels wrong, like he came back different post snap and he’s spending all his time mimicking the old Peter so that the ones closest to him don’t notice.

The happy, care-free teenagers that once boarded a ferry without fear or fully grappling the consequences has been replaced with the teenagers that looks over his shoulder even at school, and who insists on driving with his little sister to and from school every day despite the other plans he’s made.

It’s stupid to feel scared, and apprehensive of his own shadow. Not only is Thanos gone and unable to hurt him, he knows that Tony and May wouldn’t let a threat get nearer then a five mile radius from him. He thinks that might have to do with how strange he feels. May and Tony seem to have developed a Spider sense in that regard. May casually mentions to him one day that it’s okay to not want to go on a school trip, not after the whole blip ordeal starting while he was on one. And when he insists he goes, spending the day with the hairs on his neck straight and his web shooters carefully hidden beneath his clothes, it’s not just Happy there to pick him up. It’s both Happy and Tony, the latter of whom keeps him busy for the entire night, only sending him off to bed when Peter is practically asleep on his feet. He doesn’t voice it, but Peter’s grateful. It’s not ideal, and the anxiety is eating away at his energy, but Peter’s managing. At least, he is until one day a tea party with Morgan takes a gut wrenching turn.

Morgan has categorized her tea party’s as ‘truth times’, during which she asks the questions that her mom and dad will never grant her an answer too, essentially causing everyone to fear the time they’ll be picked for the ‘party’, both afraid of Tony’s relentless teasing and Pepper’s furry. They don’t have to bother, for it’s always and exclusively Peter that’s invited, along with a few of Morgan’s stuffed animals. Peter blushes a bright red any time Tony reminds him that it’s because Morgan sees him as her big brother, and that he should see it as a positive thing, while he winks and fails to hide a smirk.  

He doesn’t mind the tea parties as much as the others though. Sure, his hands may shake whenever Morgan brings up a topic he knows he’s shouldn’t, or doesn’t want to talk about; aka Spider-man and Iron man stories, or the stories of her dad’s past Happy sometimes deludes too, but it’s also gratifying. To be in the constant presence of a childlike innocence that yearns for Peter’s presence and is enchanted with pretty much everything he says.

It's nice to hear about the life of the Stark family that happens whenever Peter is in the city and he has to miss them, but it’s even better that Morgan wants him to know everything, and that she considers him a partner in crime in pranks against her parents.

That day however, Morgan isn’t up to her usually standards. Peter senses it immediate, is greatly in tune with her moods and how she feels, but he’s robbed of the chance to ask either of her parents about it. She rushed up to him, tea cup in her hands and not bothering to wave at Happy while she pushes Peter towards the table, where all her other stuffed animals are already seated. Peter can barely yell out a thank you to Happy, who grimaces and is silently rejoiced it’s not him in Peter’s place. She leads him to a small table just in the grass before the porch, the sunlight thawing out the leftover winter spectacles. It’s peaceful, yet Peter can’t breathe properly.

‘Daddy’s gone to the shop to get grocery. Mommy was mad dad was going to order pizza again.’ Morgan explained quietly while pouring Peter a (cold) cup of water.

‘That’s fine Mo, I bet your mom will make something even more delicious’, and healthier he thinks but doesn’t say, ‘then pizza.’

Morgan is not convinced and simply turns to pour out another cup for her teddy bear.

Her agitation causes her to pour some water onto her jeans, leaving what must be an uncomfortable, wet clingy feeling to her legs, and to Peter’s horror, she starts to cry.

He rushes over to her, turning her chair to face him while he crouches and envoleps her in his arm.

‘Sssh’, he comforts her, not at all sure what brought the mood on and not sure how to fix it. Peter’s anxiety worsens. He can’t think of himself of anything other than a bad big brother, and bears again how out of order he is after five years of being gone. If he had known Morgan for those five years, he might have been able to help her better.

When she doesn’t stop crying Peter pulls away slightly, using his hand to wipe away the countless tears cascading down Morgan’s face.

‘Shhh’, he tries again, ‘It’s alright Mo, we can get that cleaned up.’

‘I can’t do it by myself,’ Morgan snivels, using her sleave to wipe her nose.

‘I’m here to help’, Peter says, smiling what he hopes is comfortingly at her. Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say.

He watches helplessly as her face turns bright red and a flood of tears trail faster then before. Then, with horror, he takes in her next words. ‘I wish it was like before. I wish you weren’t here sometimes.’ Then she leaps of her chair and races inside the house.

Peter can’t say anything to her, and he wouldn’t even be bale to utter words if he they came to him. He’s just left crouching there, birds chirping around him as if he didn’t just hear to worst thing he’s heard since Strange told him that it had been five years, followed by May ghastly screams as she found him, bundled up in Tony’s arms where he had been since after the battle was over, so sure she would never see her nephew ever again, especially not alive.

His stomach turns, and for a second he fears he won’t be able to hold it in. he bends down and places his head on his knees, struggling against the urge to cry and throw up at the same time. He wins the battle, for now, but his breath is ragged and there is no strength left in his body to move from the position.

He can barely distinguish his thoughts over the pounding of blood in his ears, not grappling what he just heard. He had been excited for the tea party on the way too, boasted about it even a little to Ned and MJ, and now, he wished that he would get dusted again.

He remembers the pain, how he had disintegrated with the wind, all the wile trying to hang on for Mr Stark, begging for his help. Still, it was nothing compared to this. This was as grim, albeit in a different way, as the blip. Peter would prefer it to this.

Morgan wasn’t purposely trying to be mean, which made it all the worse for him. She meant everything she said, with a childish innocence that prohibits them from thinking they’ll hurt someone with their words.

But it does, it hurts, it tears at his heart and as his sobs begin to heave out of him he wonders what now. He longs for May’s arms around him as they had done countless times, or for Mister Starks comforting kiss against his brow while murmuring about nothing in particular and transforming even the borings meeting reports into a lullaby.

He wants to call MJ and have her laugh at the situation. Tell him that that’s what kids are like and somehow linking that to the school education and going on a rant about how it could be improved.

Truthfully, Peter probably should have talked to aunt May or Mr Stark about it, but the hurt had been so fresh at the time, and the overwhelming and heart wrenching sobs that had spilled out of his mouth the moment he left the Stark cabin had stopped him from even trying. Even if they disagreed, even if Mister Stark would, somehow, prefer his life with Peter in it, his own daughter doesn’t, and why should Peter be more important than Tony stark’s flesh and blood.

Peter bolts and doesn’t look back.

The first place he goes to is Neds. He can’t think of a better distraction then spending the night with his best friend, eating so much pizza their stomachs hurts and then watching their favorite movies. Still, despite him not wanted to talk to anyone, he texts May to let her know where he is for the night, then shuts of his phone.

May will be slightly suspicious, but if Peter disappears without a word to anyone she, no doubt spurred on by the memory of losing him so fresh on her mind, knows the first place to look is at Neds.

He knows it’s not exactly encouraged to be this irresponsible and selfish at his age, having been through the things he has, but he needs to take the breather the world continuously tries to stop him from having, and he can’t have it while staying in a place where he can’t be himself.

He wonders briefly, as the air is wisping around him and a heavy breeze nearly knocks him of his trajectory, if Morgan had told her parents what happened. He imagines she probably didn’t, completely unaware of how her careless words stung him. Peter aims for that to be the case. She’s too young to be contemplating her words and how they might affect others.

When he arrives as Ned’s place, he is let in without any questions. The old Peter would thrive under the evening, would be crawling in his skin to retell every detail of the evening to Tony and May, but the new Peter does not. He soaks up as much of the normal routine as he can, hoping that later it will help him submerge into a feeling of contentment, and before nine o’clock the next day, he sneaks in his suit, warry of waking Ned who is still snoring deeply away in his bed, and plans to swings away from him and his responsibilities.

Except, as soon as he cracks the front door open, he is forced to face a rather unimpressed Mr Stark, dressed in a plain jeans with T-shirt, clearly unbecoming of him. Peter’s not sure how exactly Mr Stark knows he was staying the night at Ned’s, but clearly, there is something on his mind. Peter tries for his usual grin, feeling like he’s a mere puppet forced to be a part of a play he didn’t audition for. The mornings cold air whisps across his cheek and he allows his grin to fall off, convinced the cold is enough of a decoy.

‘Mr Stark’, Peter says, ‘I didn’t know you were coming to pick me up. I didn’t even know you know where Ned lives.’ As he speaks, Mister Starks inches closer to throw an arm around him, tucking him into his side and shielding him from the cold.

‘Course I do’, Mister Stark grins,’ I listen when you talk about Ted.’

Peter doesn’t bother to correct him, but he does lift an eyebrow in retaliation.

‘You know,’ Tony ignores, hastily walking towards his audi as to minimize their time outside,’ I finally fixed those bugs in your suit we were talking about underoos.’

‘Really?’ Peter asks, excitement bleeding into his words. Talking about Spiderman and fixing stuff up in Tony lab, in silence, is about the thing Peter grasps hasn’t changed.

‘Yeah, yeah’, Tony says, but there’s a sarcastic undertone that leads Peter to believe there’s more to come. ‘I was going to tell you all about it yesterday, so imagine my surprise when I come home, excited for the little spiderling to spend the night, and my wife tells me he up and left.’

Peter blushes a bright red. He had completely  forgotten the fact that he was supposed to sleep over at Mr Starks cabin in his hast to get away. He does not like where this is going.

Thinking fast, Peter tries to come up with an excuse. ‘Oh, well you see Mr Stark-‘

Before he can get too far into his fumbling, he’s cut off.

‘Pete, get in the car.’

‘What?’ Peter asks startled.

‘Get in the car underoos, I’m driving us home.’

‘Actually, Ned and I were making plans to study together later this afternoon so-.’

‘Peter’, Tony sighs, all his usual bravado missing. He looks old beyond his years, like dealing with this, with Peter, has resulted in a load so heavy Mr Starks crumbling underneath it. Peter can relate.

‘Can we please talk.’ He gestures to the car, opening the driver door for himself. Peter hates talking about things nowadays, hates vocalizing what’s wrong and analyzing his emotions and thoughts. He’s good at thinking things through that have to do with science, or calculating a plan to minimize the damage a criminal can do before Peter swoops in. In contrast, he ignores everything that has to do with emotions. He couldn’t comprehend how to respond when May didn’t let go of him for days, and slept in his bedroom for weeks after returning, or why Tony introduced him to Morgan as soon as Peter was settled in.

As soon as Peter pretended to be settled in at least. But he owns it to the man that risked his happiness to rescue Peter of an untimely death, to at the minimum oblige his request.

So, heavy with apprehensiveness, Peter nods and gets in the car with Tony.

The car ride is silent for a few minutes, during which Peter realizes that under normal circumstances, he would be babbling away with barely the time to take a breath. Even now, there is information, stories, burning on his tongue to get out, but he every time he opens his mouth to talk, the words gets stuck. They turn to dust in the same way he did on Titan.  

‘So, rumor has it Morgan was in a bit of a mood yesterday.’ Tony starts after a while, clearly not used to the awkward tension. ‘Heard she was a bit of a menace.’

Peter doesn’t respond.

‘She gets that from Pepper you know,’ Tony asserts, his eyes briefly flitting from to road to Peter, some of the tension in his shoulder melts away when Peter lets out a genuine laugh.

‘But seriously Pete, you know that if she’s out of line you can always come to us right? You don’t have to allow her to mess with you.’

‘Morgan didn’t do anything’, Peter counters, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. He isn’t lying, not really, because this transcends over way more then just the incident last night.

‘Yeah I know, at least not fully.’ Tony agrees, turning the blinker on suddenly and parking on the side of the road. Peter looks out the window startled, wondering if he’d spend so long inside his own head that he completely missed how far along they were on the drive. Instead of the familiar dirt road leading up the cabin, they’re on a deserted stretch of long road with no one in sight.

Tony turns the best he can in his seat, facing Peter head on. Peter crumbles in on himself a little bit. He fears where the conversation may turn to.

‘I know something’s up with you Peter. You’re really good at faking it underoos, but you can’t cheat the master of self-destruction. The fact that you’ve even tried is frankly hurtful kid.’

Peter can’t quite manage a responding smile to Tony’s, but he does grant him the fleeting’s of grins. Looking outside the window, Peter stares ahead at the near empty roads

‘You were never good at lying before either’, Tony tries again, and he does that a lot lately too. Reminisce about the before, as if Peter needs more reminders of how everything has changed.

It’s different being back, even though most people claim it’s as easy as riding a bike. May didn’t get snapped, and when Peter got back she had moved into a different apartment with Happy. Mr Stark didn’t get snapped, and he got married and had a daughter. Ned and MJ did get snapped, but so did their families. They didn’t return to a world where their Prescence was so palpable, unlike Peter. Everyone still looks at him like he’s a ghost.

‘Well maybe I got better at it now,’ Peter snaps, and all at once, the charade he has kept up for so long crumbles. ‘Maybe I’m not the old Peter anymore, maybe I’m not as fun or happy as before but can you blame me?’ Hot tears start rolling down Peters cheeks and he does nothing to stop them, is helpless to do anything about it because he’s so tired and so damaged, and beneath all of it is the urgent question that has been on repeat in his mind; would he still be worth al the trouble? Would he still be so loved if he started out this damaged? If they’d predicted having him around would be this draining, would they still bring him back?

‘I’m the one that died’, Peter cried, voice crackling like he’s back to being 15 years old.

‘Peter’, Tony tries to intervene, as torn up about the whole situation as Peter is. Any mention of Peter dying still puts a haunting look in Mr Stark’s eyes, and any time there’s no way around the topic, he scoops Peter up in his arms and presses a kiss to the top of his head, not allowing Peter out of his vicinity. Now, it’s obvious that he’s itching to do the same.

‘But I’m back. I got lucky. So why don’t I feel that way?’ Overcome with emotion, Peter deflates in the passenger seat, sobs tearing out his throat, and he’s so done with this. It’s all he seems to be able to do lately.

‘Kid, Peter stop,’ and it’s only then he notices he’s been pressing his fingers in his leg so deep it’s leaving red marks. The next things he knows he’s enveloped, completely wrapped up in Mr Starks arms, the heavy scent of motor oil and something faintly woody, something that also changed after the snap, a close companion.

Peter cries and cries so hard and for so long it feels like he’ll never stop, but Mr Stark never once urges him to stop. He doesn’t hurry the process, just ensures that Peter senses he’s not alone.

When he’s done, Peter sits up, and though his crying session has taken some of the edge away, but it hasn’t altered the way Peter suffers.

‘Peter,’ Tony eventually mumbles, not withdrawing from Peter’s grasp, not forcing him to hold eye contact with him while he speaking. Peter’s grateful, and winds his hands in Tony’s shirt.

‘No one excepts you to be the same person you were. Nobody but you’, while Tony speaks, he allows his lips to gloss over Peter’s head. Peter sniffles pathetically.

‘There’s not a person in this world who hasn’t felt the effect of the snap, the only is difference is that they allow themselves to feel that way. You don’t. I promise you kid, no is angry at you for acting a little different. But I need you to realize that you can’t keep this sort of thing to yourself any longer. May and me, we’re here to help. We’ve been itching for years to help you, and now that we finally have the opportunity to, we’ll do anything we can. And if that anything hasn’t yet been invented then I’ll invent it for you.’

Peter burrows closer to Tony, willing his mind to calm down and to simply relish in the moment. Of course that can’t happen. He can’t stop thinking of Morgan’s words.

‘But Morgan’, he starts then swallows. He refuses to say something that could get Morgan, or himself in trouble.

Tony cards his hand through Peter curls, squeezing him hard one last time then letting go so he can get a better look at the kid he calls his own.

‘What about her Pete?’

‘She said,’- Peter swallows once more,’ she said that it was easier when I was I wasn’t here sometimes. I-I can’t let you help me if it’s gonna hurt your daughter,’ Peter mutters brokenly. ‘I won’t stand in between you guys.’

Tony laughs, albeit sadly, and allows his hand to fall down from Peter’s hair to his cheek, caressing the skin with a softness Tony saves for his children.

‘What she meant was that she hates the fact she has to miss you sometimes. She wishes you would stay with us all the time. She even asked for that on Christmas. I promise you spiderling, Morguna wouldn’t allow you to come to her tea party if she didn’t deem you worthy enough.’

He thumbs a stray tear from Peter’s face. ‘And kid, don’t ever forgot that your as much my son as Morgan is my daughter.’

The two of them, Peter still shyly, smile at each other, and for the first time since coming back, Peter’s old self licks at the heels of his new form, and a resemblance of contentment settles over him.

‘So what do you say underoos? Ready to go back and start anew? I’ve been hearing none stop complaints from a certain little miss that you’ve missed an important event. I think she looking for you to make up for it.’

Peter inhales deeply, lungs expending, and looks to the future with renewed hope.

---

A few weeks later, Peter runs after Morgan, expertly dodging the endless amounts of ‘obstacles’, she decides to throw in his way. They’ve been at it for hours now, and Morgan’s not getting any more tired. It’s all fine for him though, as it’s not only a way to spend time with Morgan and expel the copious amounts of energy his body possess.

He sleeping over that night at the Stark residence, and for the first time in a long time, he has zero apprehension about it. He’s simply happy to be there, and even happier with the prospect of May and Happy arriving early tomorrow to join them for some family quality time.

‘Boo, I’m going to catch you’, he yells out to Morgan, delighted in her giggles.

‘Hold on Morguna, I’ll bring in the cavalry to save you’, Tony adds from inside the house, content to watch the two.’

‘Anthony Stark absolutely not.’ Pepper chastises him, then turns to Morgan and Peter. ‘Time for dinner guys.’

Morgan groans disappointed, her bottom lip sticking out in an obvious attempt to get her way. It doesn’t work on Pepper, like usual.  

‘oh don’t worry Mo, after dinner it’s my turn to pick the movie, and I’m going to show you the best movie ever made.’

‘Is it Star Wars? Daddy says you always pick star wars and that it’s lame.’

Peter gasps offended. ‘Well your dad is a lying liar, and I’ll prove it to you.’

Morgan giggles at his choice of words, then stretches her arms towards Peter expectingly. Peter swoops her up, immediately setting off towards the house in a jog. For the first time, the future looks promising.

#my writing #peter parker imagine #iron dad #spiderson #spiderman #irondad imagine #hurt peter parker #peter & Tony #iron man #post endgame #peter parker fanfic #protective tony stark #marvel imagines #marvel imagine

[marvelwritings]

Prompt List #2

Feel free to use these for whatever you may want! Credit is not necessary.

PROMPT LIST #1 - PROMPT LIST #2 - PROMPT LIST #3

Fluff

“I’ve learnt to love you.”

“They’re good for each-other.” 

“(She/he/they) don’t compare to you. No one does.”

“Shut up and hold me.”

“I’m not leaving. Ever.”

“I promised to love you forever.”

“You’ll find your way back to me, I know you will.”

“I’ll take care of you.”

“Can you sing that song for me again?”

“I don’t know if you know this but, I love you.”

“I know it’s 2 in the morning but do you want to…” 

“It looks good on you.” 

“You’re the reason I’m still here.”

“I love you and all but…” 

“You saved me.”

“Would you like to stay?” 

“I’ll take the couch.” 

“I’m quite comfortable here.”

“How did I manage to get you.” 

“Maybe I’m just lucky.”

“It’s us agaisnt the world.”

“Are you hurt? What happened?”

“You fainted, are you alright?”

“What do you remember?”

“I think (she/he/they/I) rubbed off on you.”

“Don’t let go.”

“I promise.”

“Am I dreaming?”

“I don’t want to wake up.”

“Find me again.”

“Don’t forget me.”

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t plan on doing that.”

“Please don’t say goodbye.”

“I wish we didn’t we have to say goodbye.”

“You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet did you?”

“Because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?” 

“I could never get tired of you.”

“Are you alright?” “I will be.”

“No you don’t understand, I have to get back!”

“I’m not your princess.” 

“You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.” 

“For (her/him/them), (I’ll do) anything.”

“(She’s/he’s/they’re) worth the wait.”

“I can be your reason why.” 

“This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me.” 

“I don’t know if I want to yell at you or kiss you.”

“Is it that hard to believe that I love you?”

“Stop flirting with me, I’m not going to fall for it.”

“Is somebody jealous?”

“Can you quit being sappy for five seconds?”

Angst

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” 

“It’s always a losing game with you.”

“If it means anything, I love you.”

“I must’ve loved (her/him/them) a lot.”

“You’re in-love with somebody else.”

“(She/he/they/I) lost (her/his/their/my) soulmate.”

“It wasn’t supposed to end this way.” 

“I’ve moved on.”

“This isn’t the person I fell in-love with.”

“It doesn’t matter unless I’m their last right?”

“Why are you still fighting?”

“You were the one who walked out, not me.”

“Please don’t make me choose.”

“You’re choosing (her/him/them) over me?”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“You lost the right when you walked out of my life.”

“What happened to forever?”

“Don’t you remember me?”

“Would you have said yes?”

“Please don’t make me choose.”

“You can’t just act like nothings wrong when it is!”

“You’re with me for a reason, right?”

“Why would (I/she/he) fall for someone else?”

“I haven’t seen you in months.”

“You’ll always be a friend.”

“Did you love me (me/her/him/them)?”

“I’m sorry.” “For what?” “Everything.”

“I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

“You have to let me go.”

“It’s all in my head. This isn’t actually happening, you’re not real!”

“Look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said.”

“Why are you letting (her/him/them/me) do this to you?” “Because I love (her/him/them/you).”

“Would you do the same for me?”

“What happened to all of our promises?”

“This was our forever.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“It’s been years, can’t you just give me a chance.”

“I’m not ready to get hurt again.” 

“Because I know when I open my eyes this will all turn out to be a dream and I’ll lose you again.”

“I’m not ready to lose you.”

“No, not again. Please!”

“You just had to go and ruin everything.”

“Why do we have to keep hiding? I’m tired of being kept a secret.” 

“You know this means nothing right?”

“It’s not my fault you believe(d) everything I (say/said).”

“You promised forever.”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe me?”

“Wake up! Please don’t do this to me.” 

“Why did you have to go and fall in love with me?” 

“I shouldn’t still be in love with you.” 

General

“I still find myself falling asleep with you on my mind.”

“Do you not remember me?”

“I thought you said wouldn’t fall in-love.” 

“(She’s/he’s/they’re) just a friend.” “We used to be friends to be ‘just friends’ too.”

“I’d never fall in-love.”

“I’ll wait for you.” 

“Just take my hand.”

“You’re weak.”

“Was that part of the bet?”

“At least I kept my promises.”

“Take me back.”

“I need (her/him/them).” 

“Do you miss me?”

“What happened to us?”

“People say I’m heartless.”

“Another nightmare?”

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Is that a threat?”

“Hold onto me.”

“I have nothing.”

“It’s killing you.”

“Maybe you should give up.” 

“I’m tired of running.”

“(She/he/they) changed (her/his/their) world.”

“Just like we promised.”

“I can’t leave.”

“You’re a bad liar did you know?” 

“I could’ve helped.”

“I never wanted any of this.”

“Only you.” 

“Come home.”

“I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Just say the word.”

“Well, I can scratch that off my bucket list.”

“We really shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Do you trust me?” “No.”

“It was your idea!”

“What happened to your face?”

“All you had to do was ask.” 

“I don’t like you.” 

“I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Why is it always you?”

“Don’t let go.”

“Who said I ever stopped?”

“Get out of my head.”

“You flinched.”

“Is it worth it? Risking everything just for a chance.”

“I did it again, didn’t I?”

“I’m not going to fight you.”

“Every time I think I’m close to finally figuring you out you end up surprising me.”

A/N: While a majority of these are mine there are a few I have found online/was inspired by

[marvelwritings]

hellooo can i request a xu shang chi imagine where the reader (who worked for wong & strange) liked him secretly for quite a long time, never told him, but he knew. one day shang chi had a new gf (whom katy hates) and reader gives up on her love. but then shang chi realizes that reader is the one and chases her back 😩

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

‘The bitch needs to go.’ Katie hisses, appearing from inside a toilet cubical as if she was awaiting you. You scare, jumping forward and just in time bracing yourself on the wall so you don’t feel over.

‘Jesus Christ, we’re you waiting in there for me?’

‘Y/N focus, Shang-Chi’s new girl is hor-rib-Le, and we need to get rid of her, so game plan?’

You wave away Katie’s ridiculous idea, although you would be lying if you said the idea hadn’t crossed your mind.

‘Olivia is fine, maybe she’s not like us, but she’s not a bad person’, you lull Katie as best as you can.

‘Eum, were you not there when she said Karaoke is dumb? And when she said that being a valet driver is a job for people who are too dumb to do something else?

You wince, the things she was saying were indeed very harsh. Still, the only thing you can do is sigh as you turn towards the faucet and splash water in your face. For a moment, the silence in the bathroom stretches out, and you could pretend it was just a normal Friday night, and not the night that the man you’ve been in love with for years has introduced his new girlfriend. Maybe you should have seen it coming, but you hadn’t, and it caused the surprise to hurt even worse. It feels like betrayal, despite it being not. Karaoke nights were sacred and the arrival of a new girlfriend deviled that in your perspective. But perhaps that was just your jealousy talking.

‘Look’, you say to Katie, hoping that the cool down will help to keep a level head. ‘She’s not great’, Katie raises her eyebrows. ‘But Shang-Chi clearly likes her, or he wouldn’t have brought her here. We should give her a chance.’

Katie pretends to gag, and you lightly elbow her in the side.

‘Maybe try to find some common ground. Remember, we’re doing this to make Shang-Chi happy.’

‘Yeah, yeah, but you would have made him happier’, Katie adds lightheartedly, stopping instantly when cracks show in your facade. Your smile drops a bit, and your eyelid trembles, but you manage to prevent more of your emotions to show. That has to count for something.

‘He didn’t want me Katie’, you respond, your voice as detached as it can possibly be.

‘He does, he’s just being an idiot right now.’

‘No,’ you force out, your heart aching. You know Katie doesn’t mean bad, but every sprinkle of hopes just leads up to more disappointment, and now that Shang-Chi has a girlfriend, it is definitely clear he never showed an interest in you. Katie shuts her mouth, staring at you in surprise.

‘He knew I liked him’, you hold up your finger when it looks like Katie will interject. ‘Please Katie, you don’t have to lie to spare my feelings. I know he knows, and he never even mentioned it.’ You laugh humorlessly. ‘It’s fine, this could be what I need. He has a girlfriend now, maybe that will finally get me stop loving him.’ You swallow thickly, the end the conversation.

‘Now let’s get back to the booth and enjoy our night.’ You smile at her, but don’t wait for a reply as you rush out of the bathroom, straight into Shang-Chi himself.

You stumble when you collide with the man, and his arms circle around you to steady you.

‘Oh sorry’, he apologizes, looking you over to make sure you’re okay.

Deciding that staying in his arms is not doing wonders for your feeling, you step back immediately, grinning at him like a maniac. ‘Peachy’, you rush out, as if that’s something you would normally say. If he hadn’t realized something was up when both you and Katie rushed away, he definitely does now.

You don’t stop walking until your back in the booth, watching as Olivia downs her cocktail in one go. If you weren’t cautious that you would give her a piece of your mind when drunk, you’d do the same. Katie and Shang-chi follow behind you equally as fast.

‘Ready for another round,’ Shang- Chi inquires, sliding in the sofa next to Olivia, where she coziest up to him. She throws him a flirtatious smile, and nauseous chokes you up. It’s not that you hate seeing your best friend happy. Because before everything, Shang-Chi is your best friend, but you would have appreciated a warning, maybe then you could have found an excuse and canceled.

‘Maybe one more love,’ Olivia answers with a honey sweet voice. ‘Y/N why don’t you go,’ her eyes turn venomous when trained on you.

‘I think I saw jealousy on there.’ Her smirk says it all, she’s putting you on the spot not only in front of Katie, but also in front of Shang-Chi.

‘Okay’, Katie blows, jumping up from her position next to you and getting ready to lung at Olivia. Both you and Shang-Chi rush to do the same.

‘Or’, you say, patience disappearing like snow for the sun, ’you could sing ‘gives you hell’.

After that, you take your cocktail glass, drink it down and slam it on the table. ‘I’m going home’, you announce, leaving behind the voices of Katie and Shang-Chi telling you to wait.

In your hurry you forgot your coat, but you’re sure Katie will bring it for you, and if not Shang-Chi will, you may have just insulted his girlfriend, but he’s still a sweetheart. The outside air hits you dead one, and the cold is sobering. Goosebumps arise on your skin, making you shiver, but it’s not a bad kind. It certainly is better then inside the bar. God, you could never show your face their again.

‘Y/N’, Shang-Chi calls out after to you, indeed carrying your jacket in his hands. You turn around on instinct, but decide to hurry faster once you notice who is after you. The whole situation is like a giant joke, just two nights ago, you had been watching a movie on Shang-Chi’s couch and throwing popcorn at each to distract from the movie, and now you were running away from him.

‘Y/N wait up.’

Of course, it doesn’t matter that you walk faster, Shang-Chi is literally trained combat, he catches up with you in five seconds flat. You stop once he makes it in front of you, and hold out your hand.

‘What?’ he asks confused, staring at you with a puzzled look.

‘My jacket please,’ you say as you take it out of his hands. ‘Thank you very much, now you can go back to your girlfriend.’

‘Look Y/N I’m so sorry, Olivia should have never said those things.’

You roll your eyes, then feel guilty right away. Shang-Chi should not be blamed for something that he didn’t even do. It’s just hard to act normal when your love for him is so vibrant. At least before he had a girlfriend you didn’t need to act so culpable.

‘It’s fine Shang-Chi, seriously.’ You promise when you see his unbelieving eyes. ‘I think that I should just not come with the next few weeks, let things cool down for a while.’

‘No Y/N I don’t want that, please just stay, we could go somewhere and talk.’

‘Shang-Chi, please just go back in, it’s fine.’

‘No it’s not.’ Shang-chi attempts to stop you when you try to walk away, clenching your hand in his. The contact burns its way up your body, warming you up. When you still try to continue on, Shang-chi gets desperate.

‘She was just angry cause she my feeling about you.’

You stop dead in your tracks, heart plummeting down to your stomach. ‘What?’ You ask him hesitantly, your hand still intertwined with yours.

‘I-I’m in love with you Y/N, and I know how stupid I’ve been. I just didn’t realize it until today. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.’

You don’t know what you were expecting. You hadn’t been able to daydream of a moment like this, because you knew Shang-Chi knew about your feelings and chose not to mention them, but now that it’s here… you feel anger, mostly.

‘So what,’ you hiss, ‘you had to try another girl first. She isn’t working out so I’m second choice?’ You rip your hand away from his, sadness suddenly replacing the anger. Tears well up in your eyes and you can see it breaks Shang-Chi’s heart as much as yours. ‘Why wasn’t I good enough for you for these past months?’

‘Y/N’, he murmurs, reaching out to place a cold hand on your cheek.

‘Why?’ You ask him again, desperate for the answer. You’re conflicted. One part want to jump up in his arms and spend the rest of the night with him, the other part is urging to slap him.

‘I was scared’, he mutters, honesty laced in his words. It blinks you out of your revelry, and it’s your turn to be confused. Scared for what?

‘That day my father’s men came to get me, and Katie was with me, I was scared that they would hurt her. After meeting you, all I can think of is when a similar situation will happen. My mother died because of my father’s action, and I would never forgive myself if the same things would happen to you.’ His thumb begins to stroke your cheekbone, drawing you in as he presses your foreheads together.

‘I didn’t want to risk it, but I can’t hide how I feel anymore either.’

You chuckle. ‘You’re such an idiot. You think working with Wong and Strange has gotten me in trouble? I make my own decisions, I can vouch for myself. You never need to worry about that.’

Shang-Chi nods, still keeping your heads close. ‘Does that mean I’m forgiven?’

‘Just kiss me already.’

#my writing #requests #shangqi x reader #shang chi #shang-chi imagine #Shang-Chi x reader #marvel imagines #marvel request #marvel imagine #Shang-Chi imagines #xu shang chi x reader

[marvelwritings]

Hi could you write something hc/imagine for Xu Shang-chi where he falls in love with the reader (shield agent) at first sight? Thank you so much!!

A/N: thank you so much for the request, I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! 

‘Close you mouth Shang-Chi, you’ll catch flies’, you hear someone hiss as you listen to Wong’s explanation. It’s almost entirely reflective when you turn around to take a look, too curious sometimes for your own good.  

You notice immediately what the woman’s voice was referring too, as you see a man blinking in surprise at the eye contact, straightening and pretending to look somewhere else. He’s just a step away from cliche whistling, while the woman next to him rolls her eyes in exasperation.  It’s cute, he’s cute, but you’re here to do your job, and that does not include looking at handsome man. It would be fun if it did though.

‘We haven’t gotten any closer to figuring out what the rings are trying to communicate with us- Hey, Y/N, are you listening?’

Snapping out of your reverie, realizing that you were the one staring now, you turn back around to Wong, acting all innocent.

‘Yes Wong, I have been listening to your monologue for the past 20 minutes now. If you want to know what Shield knows, I’ll keep it short; Nothing, they know nothing.

Wong takes a step closer to you, urgency in every word he’s trying to convey. ‘But are you sure? If they do, and they go and investigate this could turn out badly for everyone. ‘

You laugh, once again taking a look at the artifact that Wong has shown you. ‘I only know what this is because you told me, if I didn’t, I would think it was an art piece gone wrong. Shield has no idea this is even happening. Trust me,’ You vehemently enjoin, relaxing your posture once you realize this isn’t going to be another life or dead situation.

Working at shield is stressful at the best of times, but having to relay information about mission to the avengers, under heavy secrecy, on top of the that, is a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s nice to be to relax for once.

‘Now, are you gonna tell me who the two other people in the room are or am I not allowed to know’, you tease, knowing that Wong would never purposefully forgo any introductions.

Oh, yes of course, Y/N, these are Shang-Chi, and Katie,’ he gestures to them, and almost on cue, the both of them wave at you at the exact same time. The man, Shang-Chi, who had been staring at you as soon as you walked in, goes a little jaw-slacked once more.

‘Hi’, Katie says, shuffling your way. ‘So cool of you to help us. I bet you’ve seen a lot of things on our mission too, crazy world right?’

Her infection personality and cheerful tone make it impossible for you not to smile and chuckle. ‘Yeah it sure is.’

‘So eum’, she asks, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that reveals she’s about to ask something brazen. ‘Where do you live, are you seeing anyone, how long have you been doing this job, also Shang-Chi over there is single.’

‘Katie’, it’s Shang-Shi’s turn to hiss at her, but you can’t help but feel enlivened. The question were a little personal, and as an agent, you would never reveal them, but

‘She doesn’t mean that, I mean she does, I am single but not into you- I mean I am- I totally -It-I.’ he sighs, shaking his head once, then twice in embarrassment. ‘I’m Shang-chi’, He tries again, trying to appear more collected then he really is. You can’t stop the laugh bursting out of you.

‘So I’ve been told’, You explain, referring to both Katie and Wong addressing him by his name.

‘Right,’ he flushes, rocking back and forth on his heels.

‘I’m Y/N,’ you mention out of sympathy, capture by his timid, but stunning smile. ‘You’re bus boy right?’ You inquire, recognizing him from the video. ‘You’re clearly a very good fighter.’ You don’t mention that you had seen the video, and had immediately been interested in the man and his story, and that you curious to find out just who Shang-Chi was.

‘Yeah, that was me. I learned from a young age.’ For a moment his eyes change, and the innocent look he had switches out for something more mature. Someone who has seen the horror’s this world has to offer. You urge to comfort him somehow, but you don’t know how to respond, or what to do.

‘I shot a dragon,’ Katie interjects, smile so wide her teeth or showing.

‘that’s cool,’ you agree, making eye contact with Shang-Chi, the both or you bursting out in laughter.

‘So what are the kind of thing you need to do at Shield, is it just another boring desk job?’

‘No, although sometimes I wish it was. I’m an active shield officer, which pretty much means I get to arrest people.’

‘Do you fight?’ Kate demands, eager to see it in person.

‘Sometimes yeah, want me to show you?’ You glance Shang-Chi’s way, asking him a silent question. ‘Are you up for it?’

‘Oh, well I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ he explains hesitantly, scratching the back of his head with one hand.

You smirk, challenged as you reach out and grab said hand, twisting it around until Shang-Chi has no choice but to bend the way you direct him. You don’t put enough pressure to actually hurt him, but to show him just how good you are, you do pull him forward and flip him, so he falls to the ground on his back. He stares up at you dazzled, eyes twinkling with something you can’t decipher.

Leaning down, you get up close to him and goat. ‘They usually surrender pretty quickly.’

‘He smiles, and again, you struck with an urge to get to know him, to understand the man better.

‘I bet,’ he whispers, seemingly unaware of his quiet his voice has gotten.

You lend him a hand and tug him up, the two of you now standing a mere distance away from each other. Despite your earlier assumption, that you were working and shouldn’t get too interested in Shang-Chi, you can’t come up with a good reason to step back.

‘Have they been doing this the entire time I was gone?’ Wong questions as he reenters the room, his voice merely in the background.

‘Yeah,’ Katie whisper-yells, ’They’re definitely into each other. Want to take bets on how long it’ll take?’  

‘Do you-‘, Shang-Chi starts, then huffs and laughs a bit shyly. ‘We always go to Karaoke nights, Are you up for joining us.’

With a smile, you agree. It’s the start of the best part of your life.

#Shang-chi x reader #shangqi x reader #Shang-chi imagines #my writing #marvel imagines #Shang-chi and the legend of the ten rings #Shang-Chi #mcu x reader #marvel #requests

[marvelwritings]

I kinda wanna write something but I don’t know what, So if anyone has any requests feel free to send them in! I’ll write for: any marvel character x reader (romantic and platonic) (I’v went to see Shang-chi yesterday so feel free to send those requests in as well), and anything relating to Peter and Tony stark (irondad, platonic) 

#Shang-chi x reader #peter parker x reader #irondad #spiderson #Tony stark x reader #Loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel request #requests #writing #marvel imagines #the avengers requests

[marvelwritings]

A piece of me has disappeared

Summary: By day three, the first doubts set in. He’s convinced Tony is still out looking for him, but putting in the effort doesn’t always guarantee results. These people that abducted him are clever, and they know about his spider abilities. 

or: Peter get's abducted and Tony goes to rescue his son 

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet. Morgan is in her bed and there’s no doubt that tomorrow at seven am she’ll be up and at ‘em to wake Peter up. Tony and Pepper are across the room of his, their frantic work attitudes finally put to the sleep they so desperately need. Peter is blinking up at his roof in his bedroom, feeling fine, good even, peaceful and sated and most importantly, safe.

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet. Morgan is in her bed and there’s no doubt that tomorrow at seven am she’ll be up and at ‘em to wake Peter up. Tony and Pepper are across the room of his, their frantic work attitudes finally put to the sleep they so desperately need. Peter is blinking up at his roof in his bedroom, feeling fine, good even, peaceful and sated and most importantly, safe.

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet and …. The repeats stops working once Peter’s stomach gnaws again, the hunger he’s so gravely experiencing has switched to a whole new level. No longer the petty grumbles of an empty stomach, instead it’s replaced by the need to eat anything, despite Peter’s rationality telling him he can’t. He’s been locked up for at least seven days, but he’s still to sceptic to eat anything his captors offer him. He’s very close to breaking.

He tries to hold on by imagining that he’s at home, but he’s so tired, yet so fitful he won’t close his eyes for more then 10 seconds, and the constant torture is so jarring it hurts worse to imagine home, then be woken up in reality, than to just to be present. Peter wonders if Tony is every going to find him.

The first day, he had no question about it. Tony is scarily determined and protective to anyone who dares come after the people he considers family, Peter got a first row demonstration when some journalist tried to bad mouth Spiderman and he got clocked in the jaw, so Peter knows it’s just a matter of time.

By day three, the first doubts set in. He’s convinced Tony is still out looking for him, but putting in the effort doesn’t always guarantee results. These people that abducted him are clever, and they know about his spider abilities. So much so that they keep him sedated at all times, just enough sedative to keep him conscious, but not too little that he can tap in his superstrength. Peter will never be able to escape on his own.

Maybe if the avengers got called in they were close, but Peter’s not sure Tony would call in people he hasn’t spoken to in a few months, purely to find him. He can hold out hope though.

The third day is also the day his captures, he hasn’t seen any faces so far and the sedative contorts their voices too much to match them to somebody he knows, start with the emotional manipulation. So far, they had stuck to electrocution by tazers and punches applied to any sensitive area of his body, but Peter must not have been broken fast enough for them.

‘You know, you remind me of the stereotypical bad guys in movies, like in kids movies? Do you like kid movies? My favorite is Frozen’, Peter had once babbled in between punches through bitten teeth, trying to keep up his high spirits.

They didn’t like that one bit.

They claim all sort of ridiculous things, like that the Starks paid money for them to have kidnapped him, that Tony never started searching for him, that he might as well give up because no one was coming to fetch him. Peter laughs in their face, witty even in the face of extreme danger. It was still funny to him then. Now, on the evening of the seventh day, he stares unblinking at a wall, only moving when the physical pain becomes too much and he needs an outlet to scream.

‘Please’, he pleads sobbing. If he wasn’t so starved as he was, so mentally vulnerable, he would have been embarrassed. As it stands, Peter’s just so incapable of resisting, he simply gives in.

‘Please stop,’ Peter whimpers. If he had anything to give he’d bargain, but money is tight for May and him, and he has no knowledge of anything avengers related that could be of interest to these people. Mister Stark told him it was for his own safety, so it wouldn’t be used as leverage against him, but in Peter’s warped mind it further adds proof Tony never trusted him.

‘Ahn’, a captor coos, ‘he’s begging already, how cute.’ The voice is distinctly that of a woman’s, but it hold nothing of the warm timbre both aunt May and Pepper possess. He misses them.

The woman slides a hand up in Peter’s hair, and for one confusing moment Peter thinks she’s going to start stroking it, like Tony does, but then she balls her hands into fists and pulls his head aside. The next tazer gets placed in his neck.

‘This wouldn’t be happening if your so beloved mentor would just give up the plans for the new shield initiative, but alas, as long as he doesn’t you’ll be stuck here. The tazzer buzzes to life and Peter seizes up. It’s the so many’th time today, that Peter gives up on holding back, his scream ricochets in the room.

‘Then again, maybe we went after the wrong kid. Maybe we should have taken Tony Starks real kid? The one he actually cares about?’

Tears stumbles down his cheeks and he wishes he could fall back into unconsciousness, but of course life is not that kind. No, he begs inside his head, to warm out to speak. Not Morgan, never Morgan. He’d die before he’d let anything happen to her.

‘What do you think soldier,’ she addresses the second captor in the room, ‘perhaps a phone call would speed Stark along? A sign of life and how close to it being snuffed out the child is? What do you want Peter?’ She asks sickly sweet, as if it’s a regular question and not a taunt.

Still, Peter can’t help but reach out. He longs for one phone call so wholeheartedly. Maybe, maybe he can convince Mister Stark to get him out of this mess. He could promise to do every task Mister Stark ask of him, he could even offer to work for Stark industries until he could pay back the money he’d pay Peter’s kidnappers, anything to get out of here. Peter will do anything.

‘I think he’s agreeing.’ The woman grins, pulling out a burner phone out of her back pocket. She types for several excruciating moments, in which Peter begs to every god listening that Mister Stark will pick up. That he’ll hear Peter out.

‘Hello,’ the woman greets the phone, her smirk so evil Peter’s spider senses warm him to run, fighting through the drugs. ‘I think I have something that belongs to you Stark.’

She lowers the phone to a few inches from Peter’s ear, because Peter is too tied up to hold it on his own. ‘Speak loudly kid.’

The use of the nickname causes shudders to run down Peter’s back. Why can’t he go home?

‘Mister Stark, please help me, I don’t know where I am, but- I want to go home, please mister Stark I-. I’ll do anything you want, just please.’ Peter’s whines gain pitch, until he is nothing but a sobbing mess, barely worth the name Peter Parker, let alone Spiderman.

The phone clicks shut.

‘Whoops, looks like he hung up’, The woman snickers, patting Peter’s cheek with fake compassion. Peter bellows, heaving so severely the nonexistent food he ate threatens to come back up.

He’d never find out the phone was never connected in the first place.

---

By the grace of Peter doesn’t know what, he drops unconscious after the failed phone call to Mister Stark. The sleep is fitful at best, but at least it helps restock his powers. When Peter comes too, there are loud sounds just outside of the room he’s captivated in. He thinks there’s screaming and pleading, but he’s so exhausted he can’t bring himself to care. His hands drop uselessly by his side, his head turned away from the door as he squeezes his eyes shuts.

Why can’t this be over yet?

The door busts of his hinges, the door falls inwards. Immediately, the yellow and red armor, belonging to the iron man suit, rushes in, with the faceplate down. Now that the door is open, or gone more like, It’s clear that all the sounds Peter had been hearing where the scream of his captures. There are many of them, but they’re being taken down one by one.

Peeking aside the Iron man armor, Peter sees a flash of red and blue, and captain America’s shield knocking someone out cold.

‘Kid, kid’, Mister Stark draws his attention in a panic. The faceplate is still down, which means that Mister Stark is either not here, like he wasn’t when the vulture first dropped him into a lake, or he’s assessed the situation and deemed it too dangerous to lower his defenses.

‘You’re okay underoos, we’re getting you out of here.’ With very little effort, Mister Stark snaps restraints on Peter’s wrist and ancles, all the while murmuring under his breath. He’s trying to reassure Peter, but it’s not having any type of effect.

Instead, the comfort causes Peter to burst into tears once more, his body begging for food and pain medication that will make everything stop hurting. He doesn’t care that Mister Stark is doing this out of rightfulness, or maybe out of debt out of some kind that he’s trying to even out, Peter just wants to go home.

Once the restraints are all loose, and Peter is free of them, Mister Stark waits for a tense second, maybe expecting Peter to hob off the table and join the fight or something. That doesn’t happen. Peter lays motionless on the table, looking intensely at the glowing eyes of the iron man suit, maybe trying to convey a message that Mister Stark can’t decipher.

‘Come on Pete, we have to get out of here before they bring backup. I can only hold them off for so long.’

‘Back up?’ Peter ask nonsensical, his spider senses blaring danger at him.

‘Yeah, they’re big fans of the avengers, they’ll all be swarming in here for autographs soon, but we’re kinda busy so we really have to go now.’ Mister Stark turns frantic, his hands carefully, oh so cautiously, gripping at his shoulders.

Peter allows his muscles to turn limp, pliant under strange hands. They belong to his mentor, to one of the only touches he has ever felt that don’t originate from people who are trying to hurt him, but he’s so very terrified, it doesn’t register. Peter holds still, submissive to whatever is about to happen because the pain always seems to end faster when he doesn’t struggle.

‘Peter’, Mister Stark anguished voice insists, his faceplates lifts up, and the dull eyes of who Peter has come to think of as a father gaze upon him with despair. Mister Starks hair is greasy, his mouth is pulled down in a grimace, and his eyes are, for a lack of better word grief stricken. He’s so much older then he was before Peter was taken. ‘Please buddy, we have to go.’

Mister Stark’s calloused finger strokes Peter cheek with the utmost care, barely even pressing firm enough for Peter to feel it. He does though, and traps the touch between his check and his shoulder.  The dam breaks, and the barrier of terror that clouded Peter’s judgment lifts with it. He gasps, coming up for a breath of fresh air, and the moment between mentor and son brings at least a sliver of clarity, before he sinks back under the enormity of his panic.  

‘I can’t walk’, Peter rasps, his throat torn from all the screams. He refuses to let that stop him, he’s so close to safety, he needs to push on further just a tad longer. ‘Please Mister Stark, I can’t walk.’

‘It’s okay Pete’, Tony soothes, pressing an unyielding kiss to his forehead, and if at all possible, Peter see the rage harden his face even more. ‘I’m going to get you out of here, but it’s gonna hurt, I’m sorry.’

Before Peter can begin to process that statement, Mister Stark puts the weight on his knees, the iron man suit helping to lift Peter as if it’s no trouble at all.  Tony is no liar, Peter finds, as his body begs to be placed back on the uncomfortable bed. Even places that had been relatively unharmed ache, and Peter feels like a broken doll.

‘It’s okay Kiddo we’re almost there, just a minute longer.’ Peter clings to Mister Stark, using every ounce of strength to hang on, despite the fact that Tony has a tight grip on him as well. Iron man isn’t fighting alone, as the avengers are here to back him, them, up. In any other situation, Peter would be gushing. Not only is he seeing his heroes in action, but they’re in action for him, to help him, but now, Peter only turns his head to burrow it into Mister Starks chest plate.

‘Please, please’, Peter whispers the entire way to the jet, not even realizing he’s begging for something.

‘I got you Pete’, Tony assures, one hand briefly leaving Peter’s back to shoot at a capture that’s standing in the way of the jet. Other than that, he doesn’t interfere with the fight one time, but he must itch too. Peter hears him bark orders at captain America, telling him to take some of them alive.

‘Please don’t leave me here, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.’

The Jet is nice and warm, something Peter relishes in, but when Tony tries to lower Peter on a medbed, that’s objectively much more comfortable then the bed he was on before, Peter screams. No words are spoken, but the scream startles Mister Stark just the same.

‘Stark, the base is cleared, get him strapped in, Banner is coming’, Natasha ushers, ignoring Peter’s cries and running to the cockpit. Stark has him, she argues, and it does the kid no good to have more prying eyes on him.

‘What is it, are you in pain?’ Tony asks franticly, without responding to Nat, hands hovering over Peter’s body to check for injuries, the light dims when he spots just how badly he was treated in captivity.

Peter screams again when Mister Stark pulls away too far for his liking, latching onto the suit so rigorous it creaks in protests.

‘Please, I’ll be good, don’t leave me, please. I- I know… I’m sorry, Morgan- I’, Peter can’t talk with how much he’s weeping, there are so many things to say and all of them are fighting one another to be said first. Eventually, after everyone has already touched base, the jet leaves and Doctor Banner urgers Tony to place him on the bed, Peter settles for; ‘Don’t leave me here.’

‘Peter’, Tony spits, so harsh that Peter snaps to attention, letting go of the armor and limply following where mister Stark wants him. He gently grips Peter’s chin, mindful of the bruises, and with glistening eyes, he conveys; ‘I’m never leaving you here, do you understand. I don’t care what else you have in your head, but right now, all I need you to know is that I’m not leaving you. Ever.’

He waits for the conforming nod, which Peter only gives when Mister Stark clasps his hand into his. ‘Beside, May would kill me if I came back without her nephew, and I don’t want to be the one to receive her wrath.’ Tony laughs faintly.

He wants to cry at that, good or bad he’s not sure, but instead he allows himself to be lowered, giving in only because Tony is crouching down with him, shielding Peter’s body with his own. It’s unsensical, there in the jet and there’s no danger, but if Peter feels protected Tony will do it, no questions asked.

As soon as he’s in a horizontal positions, Doctor Banner injects him with pain medication, and within seconds, Peter has floated away, dreaming of the lake house with Morgan, Pepper and tony and May at the end of the hallway.

---

Peter knows he’s in the medbay before his body has even fully awoken. He’s been here before, perhaps one to many times for it too be so familiar, and he can recognize the atmosphere from anywhere. The smell of disinfectant lingers around the room heavily, but so does the smell of motor oil, coming from Mister Stark’s lab the floor below the medbay. Usually he’s not alone when he wakes up either, accompanied by Mister Stark or May, maybe even both, and so despite the room having a different connotation, it holds security for Peter.

When all his senses click into place, with an almost audible snap after being out of commission for a week, the burning anguish joins it. It’s almost worse than during the torture itself, because it’s hitting him all at once now, and after stewing for a day his body is one big bruise, but it’s also better, because no more hurt can be added.

Blinking his eyes open, Peter glances around the room and notices that he’s by himself. He hasn’t made up his mind yet whether that’s a good or bad thing. Despite being alone, Peter very nearly cries out for the pain medication he’s sure Tony has at hand. His metabolism runs through painkillers faster than a normal body, but Mister Stark has experience in that department thanks to captain America, which is why Peter never wakes up in the medbay feeling sore.

He’s hoping to snatch some of the good stuff before he can sink away in sleep again, until a dark thought pops up in his head. What if Mister Stark purposefully didn’t give him enough medication so he wouldn’t stay asleep? What if Peter is expected to pay of his debt starting this very moment? It would make sense. Mister Stark is a man that likes to get a move on things, and this is probably no exception.

He bites back a loud whine. He’s so tired and sore, and if he could be anywhere in the world right now he’d choose the lakehouse and rest on the back porch, while looking over Morgan and ensuring she’s safe.

Still, it’s heaps better then what was waiting for him before, so Peter sucks in a deep breath and lifts himself up. He’s dresses in a hospital gown with socks on his feet, the only reprieve of the cold of the tiles that he has. His body fights in protest against the jolting movements, and Peter sinks back into bed three times before finally managing to stay upright. He swallows back bile, and blinks away the disorientation woozing its way through his head.

‘Friday’? He whispers, voice cracking on every syllable.

‘Yes, mister Parker, the AI replies easily, as chipper as a computer can possibly be. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ she adds, when Peter takes too long to reply. It’s not out of rudeness, but the words take a while to be processed in Peter’s hazy mind.

‘Can you tell me what Mister Stark wants me to do?’ Peter finally asks after coughing to clear his throat. Pride flows through his bloodstream when he manages to sound fine.

‘Mister Stark has not given me any directions, but by the distress and elevated heartbeat he experienced whilst at your bedside last, I hypothesize that he would like you to rest Peter.’  

Confusion laces Peter’s next move. Rest? But if that was the case why wasn’t the man here, ensuring that he does like all the other times he’s been in this position?  Deciding not to ask the AI anymore questions, while simultaneously ignoring her advice, Peter focuses on setting one foot in front of the other. If he can’t get a direct answer out of Friday, he’ll just get started on cleaning up in the lab.

The last few times Tony and Peter worked in there, Mister Stark had jokingly grumbled that the lace was getting to disorganized even for his taste, which definitely means something. Peter limps his way to the door, already breathing more heavily and deciding to take a rest against the still closed door. His foot throbs, so Peter switches to put the most weight on the side of his foot, instead of on the balm.

The small trek has left him bone tried, and the lab still seems so far away. Peter tries to calculate how far the lab still is, and agrees with himself to divide the length into smaller stretches. His next stop is at the elevator, so Peter shuffled along the floor, ignoring the black spots that dance before his eyes and threaten to have him collapse.

The extortion reminds him of the time that Toomes dropped a building on him, which is just plain ridiculous, this shouldn’t be half as tough. Peter scolds himself to man up when about halfway to the elevator he bumps into a cart and whimpers.

After finally finding support on the elevator beams, Peter allows himself a twenty second break to cry. At this point, the exact reason for crying is unbeknownst to him. All that he does know is that he feels like a mess, like someone took all the spiderman away from him and left him as a pile of uselessness. He shouldn’t have the right to complain however. Mister Stark rescued him from a fate much worse, the least he could do is help him out.

‘Friday’, Peter pauses to gulp in more air, and to force his tears back. ‘Open the elevator.’

‘Mister Parker I would advise-‘

‘Please’, he begs, voice barely louder then a whisper. The AI complies without further disagreement. The elevator begins to move the floor bellow it, soundlessly passing Peter along. The theme song, a little joke that Tony had installed after they made a song about spiderman, which plays during every elevator ride when Peter is present, stays off. The doors open, and Peter stumbles out, cheering up a dash when the mess doesn’t look as bad as he had imagined it. The clean up should be doable within two hours, even in Peter’s injured state. Most of the mess comes from scattered papers and documents that Tony tosses aside and never bothered to do anything with, and of mechanical parts that are ready to be thrown out.

All in all, not a lot of weight that Peter has to pick up. He has barely started on five pages when the elevator behind him opens again. Peter hadn’t noticed it going to a different floor in the first place.

Lister Stark burst out of the room like the devil himself is after him. He pauses for one second to observe what Peter’s doing -he’s in the middle of bending down at a very lateral pace- and then he’s off again, cursing under his breath.

‘Jesus Christ Peter what are you doing?’

He pulls out a rolling chair from behind his work bench and rushes it to Peter side. ‘Come on, sit.’ He says already clenching a hand around Peter’s bicep to guide him down. In his confusion, Peter follows his instruction.

‘Mister Stark?’ He questions, eyes tracking his mentors movement as if he’s afraid he’s done something wrong and punishment will follow.

There is none, all that Tony does, is fall down on his knees in front of Peter, so they’re making direct eye contact. Peter gulps at the sight. He’s sure those jeans cost more than half of what May ears a month, and if Peter is expected to repay those too, he’ll never be able to pay of his debt.

‘Kiddo, what are you doing?’ Mister Stark asks incredulous, his hand never leaving Peter’s arm. His eyes sweep over Peter’s form, noticing the ailments that he aggravated by walking all the way down here. ‘Why aren’t you in bed?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get started already.’ Peter admits shyly. He can’t understand why he’s being treated with such kindness all of a sudden.

‘Started on what Pete? I don’t understand.’ Mister Stark shuffles closer, one hand coming up to cup Peter’s chin, sweeping gentle circles that are meant to calm himself down as much as Peter.

‘Paying of my debt.’ Peter replies confused, wrapping his arms around his stomach area and bending downwards in an order to self sooth. He needs to get up soon, are Peter’ not sure he will be able to. Now that he’s granting his body some rest, the pain he forced to the back of his mind is rushing back in.

‘What debt kid, you need rest and you need it right now. Stay here, I’m going to go get you a gurney so you don’t require any more walking.’

Right as Mister Stark gets of his knees, Peter’s hand shoots out, gripping the older man’s wrist.  The action was pure habitual, but now that he’s initiated contact he doesn’t know what to do.

‘When will I have to start working then? I’d rather get started as soon as possible, to thank you for everything Mister Stark.’ Peter’s voice pitches even lower, letting his head hang down in shame. He really doesn’t want to offer his suit back, Spiderman is what gives him purpose, but the sooner he no longer has a debt, the sooner he can start working to provide May with an extra income as well. He has no choice.

‘I can give you the suit back if you’ll accept it.’

Tony regards him with perturbation for several long lasting moment. Then, he gasps, finally clicking in his head what Peter is going on about.

‘Oh kiddo, that’s the concussion speaking. Listen to me,’ he sinks back down in front Peter, taking his hand in his. ‘You have done so much for me. If anything it’s me that should be in debt to you.’ Peter pens his mouth to argue, but Tony hushes him softly.

‘You’re not thinking straight buddy, that why spider baby’s need their rest. But truly Peter, you don’t owe me anything. Well except maybe you owe it to  be safe, I think I’ve earned that much.’

‘Really?’ Peter asks optimistically, his whole body filling up with a feeling he can’t name, but it chokes him up until he’s bursting with the urge to give a hug to his mentor.

‘Yeah Peter of course. All I want is my kids to be safe.’

Kids. Tony sees Peter as his kid, as equal to Morgan. A person to love unconditionally without needing any favors, without having any debt. Of course Mister Stark won’t ask that of him, despite his front, the man has a heart that’s made of gold. Mister Stark, his mentor, and his father figure.

‘Dad,’ Peter sobs, almost falling out of the chair in his rush to get to Tony. The man immediately returns the hug, holding Peter up in a way that he hopes will be the least painful for him.

‘You’re okay Peter you’re okay.’

‘I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking’, Peter confesses, deeply ashamed of how low he thought of his dad.

‘It’s okay Kiddo, like I said it’s the concussion. Of course you were scared, I can’t blame you. I promise that I tried so hard to find you bud. I’m sorry it took me so long.’

Peter says nothing, he’s had enough encounters with Tony now to sense that the man wouldn’t believe him if Peter told him it’s okay. Instead he just nuzzles closer, accepting all the love and affection radiating from Tony, and giving back what he hopes is just as much.

‘Can we go back to the lakehouse?’ Peter asks softly, burring his head in Tony’s neck. It might be a weird question coming from him. He liked the beach house enough, but he has never actively asked to go there when they could stay at the tower as well. But now, Peter won’t feel safe unless his down there, in the cabin hidden behind threes, where the environment is quiet that he can hear everyone’s heartbeat, and can confirm that everyone is safe.

‘Sure kid.’ Tony responds, a tad bewildered, but happy to provide anyway. ‘We’ll leave as soon as you get check out okay. I want to make sure you didn’t rip anything.’

‘Okay’, Peter mumbles, a bone deep tiredness washing over him, and letting him sink down into Tony. ‘Thanks dad.’

If Peter were more awake, he would have noticed the silent tears of happiness streaming down Mister Starks cheek at the name. As it stands, Peter just hums contently when a kiss is pressed at the top of his head, and Tony strikes a hand through his hair.

‘Anything for my son.’

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #hurt peter parker #hurt/comfort #tony stark imagine #tony stark #protective tony stark #fluff #angst #Peter gets kidnapped #and tortured #but not in detail #Tony is affectionate #Peter's apprehensive #marvel imagine #spiderman imagine #spider son #irondad #irondad imagine

[marvelwritings]

Can't tell me there's no point in trying

Summary:  Peter travels back in time, get's a concussion and Tony takes care of him, even though in his mind, Peter has been blipped for three years.

In hindsight, the exact memory of when they started researching how to travel back to the past is lost on him. It’s just that he had been so devastated, after Tony’s death, that his emotions had reached through to the only person that somewhat knew what he was going through. Peter didn’t want to compare Wanda’s situation with his, after all, Wanda was the one that was forced to choose between the love of her life and saving the universe, but the weight of their grief was the same none the less.

Wanda had approached him while he was out on patrol, and though there was not set plan, Peter was willing to try anything to get Tony back. They started of their plan by seeking help from Doctor Strange, and when that hadn’t worked,  Peter had snuck in and stole -borrowed as he preferred to call it- a few books that might have been helpful for their goal. Between going to school, patrolling, putting up a front for his friends and aunt -and as of late Happy-, and searching endlessly for a scrape of hope, Peter had worked himself to the bone. It would all be worth it though, if their plan came to fruition.

It hadn’t worked the first time, nor the second time, and neither did the third. Failed enough times that Peter’s heart sunk into his stomach, and that he carefully tried to convince Wanda to try something else. The spell was eerily straightforward with very little need for ingredients, nothing more then saying two sentences and having a personal item of the person they strived to reach, and if they hadn’t managed to work it out in three attempts, Peter assumed, though the idea rendered him dejected, it would never work.

Until he went out on patrol again that night. One moment he was excitedly talking to Karen, animatedly retelling the story of how he managed to stop a bank robbery, as it the AI hadn’t witnessed it, and the next he tried to shoot out a spiderweb to building so he could swing over, only for the web to hit nothing but air.

‘Ow, wow’, Peter floundered, trying his best to reach something and prevent himself from slamming on the ground -again-, but he failed. He banged into a tree at full speed, colliding head first and tumbling down while hitting every branch possible. That was the first sign that should have tipped Peter off. There were no trees in the middle of Queens. Under normal circumstances, he would have considered that, but the heavy impact is not working well in his favor.

Landing on the ground on his stomach with a hard thud, his body, and specifically his ribs, screamed in agony, and he rips the mask off without considering his predicament. Anyone could walk by and see the face beneath the mask. Still, Peter can’t breath with the way his ribs object, but at least without the mask it’s fresh air he inhales.  

He turns around and struggles to get on his back. His hand instinctively slide over his stomach, protecting the hurting area. Come to think of it, every area on his body hurts. Peter knows the logistics of cracked ribs, and savvies that even with the aid of super healing, it’s not going to repair in a few minutes times.

He inhales as a small as he possibly can, despite knowing he shouldn’t, and braces himself for running back to May’s and his appartement. He can’t stay here, where anyone could walk up to him and attack him while he’s down. He laughs incredible, at least aunt May, and Tony of he was still here, would be proud of him for calling it a day.

When he blinks his eyes open though, he’s met with nothing but grass and green for miles, and a blurry vision that tells him he has a concussion. While trying to sit up, his visions spins like  he’s a part of a rollercoaster, and his stomach turns uncomfortably.

‘Oh no,’ Peter moans, ‘aunt May is gonna kill me.’ It’s the only thing he can say before he has to swallow back bile and decides it’s best to be quiet from now on. He struggles to his feet, stumbling a few times before successfully finding his footing in the grass.

His vision does not clear, but he forces himself to take a few steps in any direction anyway. Wondering if seeing all these trees are because of his concussion, Peter freezes when he hears tiny footsteps approaching the opening his still currently residing in. It’s accompanied by children’s crying, the hairs on his arm standing up at the sound. Perhaps it’s a trap, but Peter has never done well ignoring a child ever since meeting his baby sister.

‘Hello?’ he calls out tentatively, squeezing his eyes shut firmly to clear it, but it doesn’t help.

‘Hi’, an adorable voice answers back to him, a head peeks out from behind a bunch, as if the child is equally as curious about Peter as Peter is about her. He can only notice she does this because blurring colors that inch closer little by little. The girl sniffles, ‘I hurt my foot.’

Peter is out of his depth here. He’s only ever impressed children by swinging them around in the sky, but his body will not allow that right now. Instead he tries to focus on what he would do if Morgan was the one that was hurt. Adopting a tone only Morgan has ever heard from him, Peter crouches down on his knees. His ribs creak in dismay, but he ignores it firmly. Someone needs him right now.

‘Oh that’s not good. Does it hurt a lot?’ Peter himself cannot assess the damage.

‘No I guess not’, the girls splutters, pulling up her foot to show Peter.

‘Okay, that’s great. Do you live for away from here? I bet that if I take you back home, your parents will give you a lollipop because you were so brave.’

‘Oh’, the child cries out in wonder, pain in her foot forgotten completely at the mentions of dessert. Peter can’t help but smirk a little, bribery works on Morgan every time too. ‘I’ll show you, but you have to carry me okay?’

Peter can’t think of a worse activity for his injured body to sustain right now, but he’s not about to let a kid down.

‘It’s a deal, lead the way and hop on up.’ His tone is cheerful, even though he has to bite back pained groans by biting his lip.

The girl shows no hesitation and follows his lead immediately, giggling in delight.

‘So, do you want to play a game on the way over?’

They end up playing I spy with my little eye, which Peter loses every time, and not only because he can’t see straight at the moment. The girl, being clearly very young, is a spitfire, which is good because it means Peter doesn’t have to talk during the trip.

It gets increasingly harder to carry her the longer he has to endure the pain, but he knows that salvation is near when the girl, points to a brown blob in the distance. ‘That’s it, there it is. Put me down, I want to get my lollie now.’

Peter obligates, and watches as she runs without any regard for her painful foot, smiling to himself. He hears the door of the house open, and a male cadence calling out and sounding so joyful he must not have noticed Peter yet. He can only imagine the weird sight that must be, to see a stranger bringing home your daughter, but Peter can’t move away yet. His body has stopped listening to his commands.

‘Daddy, daddy, can I have a lollipop, Peter said I could if I was brave, and I was! He said so himself.’

Peter assumes she points to him, and his smiles weakly, although he’s having trouble even finding the strength to do that. Once he walks a little further, he should rest for a bit, close his eyes for the briefest amount of time. Before it get’s to that point though, Peter hears a glass mug being dropped on the ground. The sounds is piercing in contrast between the quiet forest and the intrusion, but that’s not the weirdest thing.

‘Peter?’ That same cadence exclaims, the voice breaking of the syllable. It’s strange, because for the briefest moment Peter’s mind flashing the name Tony at him, but the man is long gone.

Peter just about handles frowning at the direction, a weird knowingness to the exclamation, like the man somehow knows who Peter is.

‘How do you-?’ The sentence is cut short when a wave of nausea slams into Peter again, and he can’t keep himself upright this time. His knees buckle, his eyes roll into the back of his head, and the ground nearly welcomes him with open arm. Before he can collide with it again however, in such speed Peter can’t phantom the man being fast enough, he instead lands between the mans arms. All the strength has left his body, and Peter can do nothing but let his head roll onto the man’s shoulder.

‘Pepper’, he screams, so shut up it comes across as hoars, pulling Peter even closer to him than thought possible. ‘You’re okay kid, you’re okay. I promise you’ll be okay.’

---

Peter comes too slowly, groggily, as if moving through solaces. The logical part of his brain, of which there is much, screams at him to panic. He doesn’t know where he is, he can only vaguely remember the events leading up to his current situation, and he can’t ensure his safety or anyone else’s furthermore, but the smaller part of his brain soothes him.

Tells him everything is fine and he’s safe. It’s rare that Peter feels that way. Even at home with May in their appartement, there’s a constant need to be alert. Peter snaps awake from every little sound, his body turning rigid from the forceful transition between sleeping and waking up, even if the cause was only a door creaking.

It doesn’t make any sense for Peter to be this tranquillized right now, or any other time for that matter. He groans, pained, fluttering his eyes open to find himself in a dark room with the windows drawn. His eyesight is still blurry, his head is still pounding beneath his skin, and because there’s no acute danger to be detected- his spider senses tell him so, though he hasn’t learned to trust them completely yet- he allows his eyelids to droop closed again.

A warm, calloused hand strikes through his hair softly, while a thumb strikes out the frowning lines that pain flashes put on Peter’s forehead. Peter realizes with a startle that his not alone, and that must mean his Peter tingle has failed him, but can’t force himself to push the hand away. It’s nice to experience a loving touch after so many rough handlings, and the memories of lab days with Tony, car rides with Happy, building Lego with Ned and cuddling with MJ render him immobile. He longs so fiercely to feel safe, to be safe, that he leans into the touch like a cat being petted.

‘It’s okay Pete, just go back to sleep.’ A rough voice rumbles from besides Peter. All the rest he previously had, flies out of the window, as his entire body fill up with adrenaline. That voice belongs to a man that’s long gone, a man that sacrificed himself to save Peter and paid the ultimate price for it. That voice can only originate from a ghost.

Peter practically jumps up, opening his eyes and looking in the direction where the voice came from, but he miscalculated how fast his concussion would go away. He stumbles, faceplanting into the body that held Tony’s voice, and was only held up by the grace of the other man. Again, there were bouts of pain, but not only from his physical ailments.

The fire that Peter imagines to be inside of him, the one that destroys everyone else around him but leaves him, unfortunately intact, burns up from the remnants of his heart. He’s tried very hard to move on from Tony’s death in the past few months, and he had almost convinced himself that he was over it. That would be a flat out lie though, and Peter Parker doesn’t lie. The agony of the situation had just been shoved to the back of his mind, while Peter took on so much so he wouldn’t have to touch upon it, to prod in it. It peeked out every once in a while, when Happy would tell May about his life and an anecdote with Tony would be told, or when a poster with Iron man on it drew his attention, but it’s easier to pretend to be okay then to deal with the truth.

‘Hey Peter, I’m glad to see you too, but don’t get too excited now bud.’ Tony laughs, but the tone with which he says it sounds grief stricken, with the barest hint of hope coating the edges. He lowers Peter back down into the bed, and Peter has to bite back a sob at how comfortable the sheet caresses his skin, and how gentle it is on his wounds.

He shakes his head vehemently, trying to clear it and be able to think logically. He wants so badly that Tony is actually here, but there isn’t any way for that to be true, unless.. Peter gasps, memories piercing through the fog in his head. Unless Wanda managed to do what they set out to do. And that would mean that It’s no weird fever dream. Peter’s hand clench up in Tony’s shirt, pulling him down so Peter can meet him in the middle and hug him. He still can’t see the expression on Tony’s face, but he prepares to be rejected, and can’t find it in himself to care. Even if Tony pushes him away after barely a brief second, at least Peter still did something he had set out to do for months now.

That doesn’t happen. Instead, Tony grabs him even tighter, a gentle hand cupping the back of Peter’s head as he curves his body around him.

‘Tony’, Peter whispers, the first tears starting to track a path on his cheeks. ‘Tony.’ Sobs are building up in the back of his throat, unable to be contained for much longer, and as they escape, Tony doesn’t scold him, or tells Peter to stop, but he starts to rock the both of them.

Peter can’t be sure, but he thinks he feels splatters of Tony’s tears on his shoulders as well.

‘Morgan’, Peter says nonsensical after a while, sobs are still heaving his body, but he’s had experience pulling himself together in need before, and right now he needs to know Morgan is safe.

‘Is she okay?’ he asks Tony, with a clumsy tongue. The crying has made his weak and aching body even more exhausted, the rocks reminding him of babies being cradled and normally he wouldn’t want to be seen as a baby, but he doesn’t care right now. He just want to enjoy being around Tony again.

‘Morgan?’ Tony laughs, sniffling quietly like he’s refusing to let Peter knows his been crying too. ‘She fine, she’s probably playing in the barn again even though Pepper tells her she’s not allowed. She’s a bit of a menace, just like you Pete.’

At that, Peter sobs turn into heaves, his entire body shaking with the force of them. All the grief of the past few months, the guilt that Peter has carried knowing it’s all his fault, is all coming to a head now. It’s his fault that Tony’s dead, it’s his fault Morgan has to grow up without a father, and it’s his fault the world doesn’t have Iron man to protect them anymore. He’s tried to so hard to make it right, but how can he? How can he ever be the person Tony was, when he’s just Peter Parker.

‘Kiddo, please calm down, you’re gonna make yourself sick’, Tony soothes despairingly. He lowers peter again but stays close, his hand going back to striking Peter’s hair. ‘You’re okay, I promise you, I won’t let anything else happen to you.’ Tony is getting chocked up again, but this time he doesn’t try to hide it. ‘Not again.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’, Peter whispers, his voice wrecked by the amount of crying he has done. He wants to talk to Tony, explain what happened, spend time with him and beg for his forgiveness, but Tony shushes him, and he’s asleep before he can argue.

----

The next time Peter struggles to consciousness, he senses their presence; Morgan, Pepper and Tony, and he knows without a sliver of doubt that its them. He shakes with the knowledge. The room he’s in, his room as Pepper had told him upon visiting for the first time, is scattered with spiderman toys, and even a few posters on to wall to complete the image. The sight is ridiculous, but Peter laughs at it all the same. He tries to keep the smile on his face, but melancholy isn’t easily beat.

At the very least his concussion seems to have gone away since waking up a first time, and all that’s left to remind him he took a fall is a vague pounding in his head, and the nausea. It’s not as bad as before, and Peter takes the reprieve with greedy hands.

The hustling and bustling of the family, alive and well, downstairs is crustal clear to Peter’s advanced hearing. It’s strange, being back in the lake house without it seeming so bleak. After they defeated Thanos, and Mister Stark died, Peter’s mind helpfully supplies, he had only been here twice. Pepper tried her best to come back, to give Morgan a home away from the home they owned in the city, but too much had reminded of the husband she was forced to burry, so they moved fairly quickly.

So it unusually to see it the way it was supposed to be. Lived in, with Morgan’s giggling and Pepper’s pretend scolding voice, with mister Stark chuckling quietly to himself, a perfect little family. It’s supposed to emit a warm, honey affection bleeding through every crack, and it’s a shame it isn’t anymore.  

‘Morguna, go play with your toys for a second, I need to talk to your mom about something very important.’ Spying on Tony leaves a bad taste in Peter’s mouth, but he can’t help it. He’s been so devoid of any scraps connecting him to Mister Stark, that he’s willing to forgo manners.

‘Is it a surprise?’ Morgan asks, mirth in her voice. She’s so much younger than Peter ever remembers her being, because he’d never got to witness her at that age. His heart clenches, the hurt still so fresh.

‘You know what little miss, as a matter of fact it is, so you better scoot, or we might not be able to get in time.’

Morgan squeals in delight, and Peter hears her little footsteps sprinting outside. Peter smiles, he knew Tony would be a good dad someday. The downstairs is quiet for longer than normal, and Peter suddenly turns worried that Pepper and Tony caught him.

Then, Pepper speaks up again. ‘You can’t keep spoiling her you know. She’ll turn into a monester by the time she hits fourteen.’

‘She’s fine,’ Tony placates. Peter visualizes Tony pressing a kiss to the top of Pepper’s head, the only weakness the woman has, which he takes great advantages of. The issue seems to be settled, the playful disagreement put to rest.

Peter ponders over what to do next. He’s so extremely awkward, and despite hoping for an opportunity like this one, he has no idea what to say to Tony.

‘Oh Tony, is it really him?’ Peter freezes, so caught of guard by the heartache in Pepper’s words. She sounds both optimistic and demoralized, as though she has had her hopes up for so long she can’t risk it again.

‘It is Pep. I know it is, I saw it in his eyes.’

‘But how?’ Pepper questions extensively. ‘He was blipped, just like so many people. None of the others have come back.’

‘I don’t have all the answers Pepper, God knows I wish I had. All I know is that my kids back, do I need to question why?’

Hearing, outright hearing mister Stark say Peter is his kid, has Peter tearing up, something sharp sticking at his ribs and feeble heart. It hurts just as much as he longs to overhear it again.

‘He might be able to bring the others back. Tony, I get why you don’t want to hear this, but he could be the key to helping millions.’

‘He has to be nothing but healthy alright? Maybe he can help, maybe he can’t, but all I’m sure of is that I’m never,’ Tony’s voice sinks lower and even more venomous then before,’ putting him in the line of fire again.’

I’m okay, Peter thinks, needing to scream it to Mister Stark’s face that he didn’t do anything. It wasn’t up to anyone, just like it wasn’t up to anyone to save Tony either.

‘I’m sorry’, Tony utters, sounding defeated and, honestly, old. ‘I’m sorry, but I just got him back, and I can’t, I can’t lose him again.’

‘It seems like the first step in ensuring it never does it to go up and talk to him. Go to him Tony, say what you couldn’t say three years ago. And’, Pepper swallows thickly. ‘Tell him we all love him.’

Peter’s grateful he won’t be forced to initiate the first move by walking downstairs.

‘Underroos, I’m coming up so you better not be sleeping anymore.’ The flawless transition between vulnerable and slipping into his role a cool role model is staggering, but it doesn’t surprise Peter in the slightest anymore. He’s spend too much time with Tony for that to be the case.

He doesn’t know what to do with his body, how he’s supposed to respond to seeing Tony in person again? Part of him wants to lung at his mentor, while the other part hisses at him to act like a normal human being. Peter ends up sitting down on the bed, standing in front of  the door, hiding behind the closet and finally back to bed in the span of however long it takes Tony to reach the room.

By that point, Peter is too distracted by the glimmer of his past to overthink the encounter. He remembers the lego set as if it just happened. It was the first bout of Peter’s interests that Tony listened to wholeheartedly. After the battle with Thanos, it had slipped Peter’s mind completely. He had no idea Mister Stark had this thing in his home.

‘I asked May if I could take it with me, when I moved out here’, Tony says with melancholy, taking a seat by Peter on the bed, but leaving a considerable distance. He’s not looking at the lego set at all, instead dividing his full attention on Peter. Swiftly his eyes roam Peters face and posture, sucking in all the little details Tony hadn’t been able to discern about him after a while.

‘There’s so many of that stuff in her apartment, but this one was the most fun to put together, because it’s the death star you know? It has all this detail and it took forever to make but that’s all good, cause there’s so much detail and-’

‘Pete’, Tony sounds chocked up, like the façade he was forcing himself to wear is already slipping. Peter hasn’t even said anything yet. ‘God kid, where the hell di you come from? I’ve tried everything but I-‘, he takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. Peter has only witnessed mister Stark crying once, so it’s a shock that it occurs again. ‘I didn’t know how.’

‘Mister Stark-’, Peter stops, cutting his own sentence off. Is he even supposed to say anything? Is he supposed to blab the secrets of the future. His Spidey scenes are distinctively ordering him not too, but Peter itches to all the same. ‘I don’t think I’m supposed to say,’ he settles on, ‘with the butterfly effect and all.’

‘The butterfly effect? Kid what in the world are you talking about?’

‘You know, like in the movie, where he can travel back in the past but it always alters things for the worst?’

‘Yeah, I’ve seen the movie’, Tony asserts, almost deadpans. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘Just- just please trust me Mister Stark’, Peter pleads, hands beginning to tremble with the need to reach out for reassurance. The memories of the one complete hug Tony had ever given him sparking a longing in him.  ‘Do you trust me?’

‘Of course’, Mister Stark firmly agrees.

‘Then don’t ask me how,’ even to his own ears the desperation is tangible, ‘please.’

Tony clasps his hand on Peters shoulder, a ground weight to which Peters never endings zing in relief. Before he can stop himself, he’s crumpled in, his head on Tony’s shoulder while his hands twist in the back of mister Stark’s shirt. The reciprocation is immediate.

‘I’ve missed you’, He chokes out, feeling rather annoyed at himself that all he seems to be doing is crying. His time here is limited, he can sense it, the hunch that time is of the essence and he doesn’t posses much of it, and he refuses to waste it on more tears.

‘Me too, Pete, more than you know.’

‘I think I have a pretty good clue’, Peter laughs bitterly, it’s not the same really. He’s only been missing mister Stark for a few months, the man in front of him has been missing him for three and will need to miss him for two more years. The buzzing in the back of his head grows louder. Another stroke of Parker luck, he spend most of the time he had with mister Stark unconscious.

Whatever, he can’t change it now, but he has a few more things to say before he needs to leave.

‘Tony’, he begins, using Mister Starks first name to ensure he understands how important this is. He pulls away, just enough to be able to look Tony directly in the eyes, but what he sees there is nothing short of panic. His hand tighten, softly guiding him back but Peter resists.

‘Please don’t tell me you have to go again.’ It seems that despite Peter intent, Tony savvies more than he’d like. Peter smiles bitter.

‘It’s not your fault.’

‘What?’

‘What happened on Titan, when he blipped all of us, me, that’s not on you mister Stark.’ Peter repeats patiently, watching as Tony’s face hardens.

‘Peter-‘

‘It’s not. You couldn’t have protected me any more then you did. I’m sorry it turns out the way it did, but I need you to know it’s not on you.’

‘I should have done more.’ Tony insist, raising his voice a few octaves. Downstairs, Morgan asks Pepper why her dad is so close to yelling. ‘I should’ve, you were my kid Peter, are my kid, and I failed.’

‘You didn’t fail’, Peter yells back just as loudly, he stands up from the bed, subconsciously trying to appear taller so he has more say in the situation. ‘Because if you already failed then what did I do? I’m still here and you-‘, he cuts himself off once again, almost spilling all the secrets.

Tony approach him like he’s an animal that needs to be handled with care. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about, but I’m a grown man Pete, I can take care of myself.’

‘But I-‘

‘Ah, ah, ah, not talking back, I’m the adult here. Zip it kid. How about this, we’re both not to blame alright?’

Peter isn’t convinced Tony believes that, but it’s still a weight of his shoulders to have said it to Mister Stark, maybe, in the future, when he pins the blame on himself once more, he’ll think about this moment. He nods.

‘I have to go now Mister Stark’, The words tumble out of his mouth before he realizes that it’s the truth. Whatever is going to happen next won’t wait much longer.

Peter walks over to the window and opens it, ready to swing out after saying goodbye. He can’t go and see Pepper and Morgan, it’ll upset them as much as it’ll upset him. He’ll see them back in his time.

‘Wait,’ Tony screams, as I Peter was going to leave without a goodbye. The embrace he pulls Peter in is heavier this time, loaded with the upcoming goodbye’s. It’s still nice though, and Peter enjoys every second of it. Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s temple then holds it there when he asks; ‘How long do I have to wait before I see you again.’

Peter swallows painfully and considers lying to make Tony feel better but, ‘two years’, he eventually confesses, figuring that he can at least give that little piece of information.

Mister Stark simply hums, but Peter notices his tears nonetheless. With one last, solid squeeze, Peter wiggles out of the embrace and tries to stall his own tears. It would hurts less if he could go back to find Mister Stark there, if only he had a way to warm Tony.

He’s pretty sure he can’t go into too much detail but; ‘Mister Stark, when it happens, please hold on. I can’t lose you either.’

‘Okay Pete,’ Tony assures, his hands shaking with the urge to drag his kid back, safe in his arms. ‘After this is all over, we’re going to hold a movie night okay? With pizza.’

‘And Star Wars?’ Peter asks hopefully. Mister Stark laughs, his eyes wet. The smile is all Peter demands before he jumps out the window, not waiting for an answer. He prays that he’s done enough without messing anything up. He hopes.

---

When Peter makes it back to his own time, his phone pings with a message.

It reads; ‘Hey kid, still up for a movie night?’ send by Tony Stark.

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