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supersickies · 3 years

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Summary: “Surgery was something that Peter Parker was used to. With his job, he really had to be used to going under the knife, and truthfully the more he experienced it the easier it got.

What Peter was not used to, however, were post-surgery infections. Of course, he knew that it was always a risk when going into procedures, but with the overly careful and competent medical staff in the med bay of Stark Tower, it was rarely something he had to worry about.

But nobody was perfect, accidents can happen, and that’s how Peter found himself in his current situation. Feverish, achy in more ways than one, and utterly miserable.”

Peter can't sleep after a surgery gone bad. He needs his Lukey...if Tony can figure out what that is.

A/N: Here we go @sicktember day five! I was pretty excited for this prompt but for some reason had a tough time putting something together for it that I really loved. But hope this fic suffices and if you read it you enjoy it! This was pretty much that last prompt fill I have completely completed for Sicktember but I’m hoping to get some more finished so I may be back with those, we’ll just have to see! Either way, hope you enjoy this fic! You can read it below the cut or on Ao3!

Surgery was something that Peter Parker was used to. With his job, he really had to be used to going under the knife, and truthfully the more he experienced it the easier it got.

But nobody was perfect, accidents can happen, and that’s how Peter found himself in his current situation. Feverish, achy in more ways than one, and utterly miserable.

His left leg, the cause of all his anguish thanks to an unwelcome bullet wound, was currently being elevated and his body was being pumped with an IV cocktail of anti-nausea, anti-fever, anti-pain, and antibiotic medications. Suffice to say, Peter was not just exhausted but he was loopy as all hell.

And he just couldn’t fucking sleep.

For some reason, despite his delirious and debilitated state, sleep would not come to him. So instead, he laid in his med bay bed with tears streaming down his face, as he begged whatever god there was above to just give him at least a minute of rest. The med bay staff, alongside Bruce and Dr. Cho, had been doing their best to synthesize a sedative for the spider-kid but they had yet to be successful, much to Tony and Peter’s disappointment.

Tony, of course, was by his side the whole time, and seeing his kid in this state was similar to experiencing his own personal hell. But he’d be dammed if he left Peter even for a second.

“Shh, Petey. I know bud. Just take some deep breaths kid.” He soothes the teen, just as he had been doing all night. It was nearing two in the morning and he had no idea just how much more either of them could take. He had tried everything from reading to the kid to making fucking ocean sounds with his mouth. Yet still, no sleep.

Peter doesn’t respond, just continues to moan and wail as Tony sighs. “Gimme something kiddie, please. How can I help you, bambino?”

Peter looks to Tony, his eyes feverish and hazy. He takes a shaky breath before finally finding the energy to murmur, “M-May.”

“May? You want me to get May back down here?” Tony asks. May had been down in the med bay with the two for most of the day, only retiring to a guest room in the tower after Tony had begged her to get some rest before her early hospital shift.

But even after giving his answer, Peter still didn't seem appeased. “No!” He whines. “I-I need Lukey.” He says with a sob.

Tony’s brows can only furrow. “Lukey?” What/who the fuck was a Lukey?

“Please M’ster S’ark, I need him.” Peter begs.

“Okay! Alrighty kiddo I…I will do my best to get…Lukey.” Tony reassures the boy as he stands from the uncomfortable med bay chair, running a nervous hand through his hair. “Just hang tight kiddo, I’m gonna figure this out.” He grabs his phone, quickly but quietly leaving Peter’s room.

He was gonna get this kid to sleep if it was the last thing he did.

Tony doesn’t understand immediately, but using the context clues he was given, he figures that if anyone knew what a Lukey was it would be May.

He could only hope that she wouldn’t be too pissed at him for waking her up at this hour.

The dial tone only sounds twice before she picks up. “Tony? What’s wrong? What happened?” She asks in a panic, ever the protective aunt.

“May! Everything’s okay! Peter’s…well, he’s um, still awake. I can’t really get him to calm down and-and I think I need your help?”

He can hear May flip on the bedside lamp and sit up. “W-What is it Tony?”

“Peter is asking for someone named Lukey? Something named Lukey? I-I was hoping maybe you know Lukey or-or can get him here at this hour? I just…he still can’t sleep May and I don’t know what else to d-“

He’s cut off by a snort. An honest to god laugh.

“…May?”

“S-Sorry, I um…” She giggles a bit more before continuing. “Yes, I can get Lukey here at this hour. Just…give me thirty.” She sighs, but Tony can’t sense any annoyance in it. She almost sounds like she’s smiling?

“I- okay then? See you in thirty I guess?” And she hangs up.

Tony doesn’t know if it’s the lack of sleep or what, but he feels absolutely crazy. “Still don’t know what the fuck a Lukey is.” He mumbles to himself, before heading back into Peter’s room.

Sure enough, after thirty more minutes of doing his utmost to calm the distraught spiderling, Tony hears May coming down the hall. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding with the hopes that May and the elusive Lukey’s arrival will calm the kid enough to send him right to sleep.

May enters the med bay room quietly. And alone? Where was Lukey?

Peter turns his head to the sound of the door shutting, his bleary eyes able to make out his aunt standing next to him. “May.” He rasps, fresh tears spilling over his cheeks. There really wasn’t much that wouldn’t make Peter cry at this point.

“Oh, my poor baby.” She coos, her kind fingers pushing the hair off of his overheated forehead. “You’re having a real hard time, huh tough guy?”

Peter nods miserably. “I-I need Lukey, May.” He whines.

The woman smiles warmly. “I know honey. He’s right here, I got him.” She reaches into the tote bag on her arm and pulls out a small blue blanket with a silky trim. It looked old but ultimately well-loved.

Oh, Tony thinks. Lukey.

Peter takes the blanket eagerly and is quick to hold the fabric lovingly to his chest. His thumb rubs the trim soothingly. Almost like magic, the boy’s crying has basically stopped, replaced with soft hiccups and shaky breaths.

Tony looks up at May, puzzled yet…impressed. He holds his tongue, though, not daring to interrupt the moment or disturb the finally calm spider-kid.

After a few moments of hushed reassurances from May, and of course the comfort of Lukey, Peter is finally asleep. The room is now overwhelmingly quiet, and Tony takes a much-needed deep breath.

He glances at the blanket that is now wrapped tightly around Peter’s shoulders, before looking at May. “So, Lukey?”

“It was a gift from Ben’s mom— Peter’s grandmother. She gave it to him the day he was born. She passed not long after but…she loved him a whole lot, him being her only grandchild and whatnot.” She explains.

Tony’s heart clinches. He knew May was the only family Peter had left, and to hear about other Parkers just made Tony remember how much the kid had lost.

May continues. “He had a connection to the blanket pretty instantly, only ever really stopped crying when he was wrapped in it. It was the only thing that would put him right to sleep.”

They both look at the snoozing boy. “Still is apparently.” Tony jokes quietly.

May hums in confirmation. “We joked that this thing was magic when he was younger, but honestly I’m really starting to believe it.”

Tony nods, reaching up to touch the blanket softly. He had to admit was kinda nice. “And…Lukey?”

“Star Wars. Luke Skywalker.” May explains. “We all called it his blankey until he was old enough for Ben to show him A New Hope. It was Lukey from that point on.”

Tony feels a bit stupid for not realizing sooner, that goofy space movie was all the kid ever talked about.

“I should’ve known he would’ve needed it. Really wish I’d have brought it earlier.” May sighs tiredly.

“Hey you-you’re exhausted too May, please go back to sleep. I said I’d take Peter duty for the night and you have your shift in a few hours.” Tony offers.

May stands from her spot by her nephew. “I guess I should, huh? If you all need anything else though—“

“I’ll let you know immediately, May. Swear it.”

May smiles warmly. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Good night, May.”

She leaves the room, shutting the door softly behind her. Tony lets out a deep breath, giving Peter’s hair one last pet before deciding it was about time he retire to his cot in the corner of the med bay room.

As he drifts off, he thinks of his mother and the stuffed elephant she gave him when he was a young child.

He makes a mental note to look in the tower’s storage units, see if he can find it.

#sick peter parker #peter parker whump #iron dad #sicktember2021

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supersickies · 3 years

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Summary: "MJ wasn’t a STEM major, but if she were going for her Ph.D. she would bet he had a raging case of bronchitis. Not that the boy would ever admit to it.

“I can’t get sick MJ. It’s probably just some dust in the air.”

“Seriously Em, I just swallowed wrong that’s all.”

“My throat’s dry! I’m not sick!”

MJ had heard it all in the past few days, and she believed none of it."

Peter is basically on his death bed, but MJ has a plan.

A/N: Yay! @sicktember day two! I can't lie this is really the only other sicktember fic that I have complete. Everything else is simply a WIP or merely a figment of my imagination just hoping to be made into an actual work. But who knows! Maybe I'll muster up some motivation between now and when I go see Shang-Chi in a few hours! Either way here's my first (of many) PeterMj fics for Sicktember 2021! Read it here or click the link to read on AO3!

EDIT: LMAO I FORGOT TO POST IT BELOW THE CUT BUT ITS HERE NOW SORRY !!

MJ wasn’t really sure what she was trying to prove when she decided to take a microbiology course. Yes, she graduated from a STEM school (as valedictorian with honors, thank you very much) but college science courses like this were a whole other ballpark. Especially as a journalism major. But hey, she needed the STEM credit. That and her adorable (insufferable) boyfriend practically begged her to take the class with him.

And who was she to say no to Peter?

So that’s how she found herself on the floor of his dorm, notecards of test questions scattered about, trying with all her might to study for their first midterm. But something was keeping her from concentrating.

That something being her boyfriend, hacking up a lung.

Again, MJ wasn’t a STEM major, but if she were going for her PHD she would bet he had a raging case of bronchitis. Not that the boy would ever admit to it.

“I can’t get sick MJ. It’s probably just some dust in the air.”

“Seriously Em, I just swallowed wrong that’s all.”

“My throat’s dry! I’m not sick!”

MJ had heard it all in the past few days, and she believed none of it.

She had seen Peter when he was ill, long before the spider bite. In fact she had seen him sick a bunch of times, because pre-bite Peter was quite the sickly kid. She noted that this current “mystery cough” he had now was eerily similar to the one he had during their 6th grade holiday choir concert, and he sounded a lot like he did in 8th grade when he could barley talk for their group presentation on The Outsiders.

Not that she took note of all the times he was sick. She wasn’t obsessed, just observant.

(She was a little obsessed).

But it doesn’t take an overly observant girlfriend to know that Peter should be in bed and resting right now. Especially when he could barley manage to catch a breath.

MJ tenses as she hears the deep chesty coughs come from where Peter sits studying at his desk. She holds her tongue, not wanting to poke the bear more than she already had. Peter would never and has never in his life gotten angry at Michelle, but the more she had pushed him to admit that he wasn’t feeling well, the more annoyed he was becoming. So she stayed quiet.

But Peter didn’t.

It seemed as time went on, Peter’s coughs became harsher, deeper, wetter even. MJ couldn’t help but grimace at the wheeze that was also now very evident in his breathing.

She glances up at him, his eyes glazed over with fever and his nose burred in micro-bio notes, seemingly unaware of the world around him and the virus raging in his lungs. MJ stifles a sigh, feeling fed up with her decision to keep quiet. She sets aside her flashcards and lays her head in her arms as she weighs her options.

She could continue to push and try to beg Peter to admit that he was unwell. But Michelle knew that would only lead to more defiance, so that was out of the question.

She could also simply force him to rest. She knew she had the capacity to get him into bed with just a look, but the idea of doing so made her feel uncomfortable. This was her boyfriend, not some animal she could just boss around.

Her feet kick in the air behind her as she continues to wrack her brain. She listens despairingly to Peter’s coughs as she thinks, and if she’s being honest, just the sound of his hacking was making her throat feel kinda scratchy too.

Wait. That could be something.

What if it wasn’t just Peter who wasn’t feeling their best.

MJ was known to be prone to migraines, but hadn’t had one in a while thanks to a medication she had started. But what if, hypothetically, maybe she’d accidentally missed a dose?

MJ takes another glance at Peter, who was still zoned in on his own study guide, before making the first move in her grand plan.

She groans.

It’s too loud or overly painful sounding, but hopefully enough to warrant some alarm from her boyfriend.

And it has the desired effect, as out of the corner of her eye she sees Peter stop his studying and glance at her. Now, with his attention, she takes it up a notch. She groans slightly again, this time adding a wince and an eye rub.

She hears Peter make a soft concerned noise. Bingo.

He’s sill looking at her, so she does her best to look just as rundown and sick as she can. It works.

“Em? You okay, babe?” Peter’s voice is gravely and nearly gone, but she can hear the worry in his tone. She’s got him right where she wants him.

She turns her head to answer him, her eyes squinting to make it seem as though the lights were making the headache worse.

“Hm? Oh, no yeah everything’s fine, Pete.” MJ’s voice is usually deeper and raspier than most, but she really cakes it on for this. Again, desired effect achieved.

“You really don’t sound great, Em. You sure?” His sentence is punctuated with a rough coughing fit, ironically enough. But even as the fit dies down his attention stays on MJ, who is now rubbing her temples like her life depended on it, both eyes squeezed together tightly.

When he sees her miserable demeanor he quickly (yet shakily) abandons his own work to sit on the floor beside her.

“Seriously, MJ.”

She looks up at him with pitiful eyes, time to really sell it Michelle. She sighs, “M-My head just kinda hurts…It’s nothing.” She caps her Oscar worthy performance with another wince before burying her head back in her folded arms.

She feels his way too warm hand on her back as he rubs it in an attempt to comfort her.

He’s still buying it.

Maybe she should get a minor in theater performance?

“You sure? This doesn’t look like nothing.” He questions hoarsely. Now that he’s closer to her she can almost hear the crackling in his chest when he breathes. She had to get him to rest now or else this shit was going to get way worse.

“I-I think I may have forgotten my pill this morning. I can’t remember. I think I was just so anxious about the exam that- I don’t know…e-everything’s so fuzzy, Peter.” She says quietly, letting out a shaky breath just like she would if her head were actually pounding.

“Oh, Emmy.” He coos. “Come on, you need to lay down.”

“But the midterm-“

“Hey, the midterm can wait. You’ve been working hard, okay? Take some time to take care of yourself.”

Practice what you preach, Parker.

“Will you lay with me?” She asks, her voice uncharacteristically small as she looks up at him, eyes still scrunched in “pain” but full of emotion. She’s laying it on thick. The things she does for this boy.

“‘Course I will, Em.”

And jackpot. He bought it. What a sucker. At least he’s pretty!

MJ does a victory dance in her head as she lets him help her stand and climb onto his unmade twin bed. She waits for him to climb in and join her, but frowns when he turns and begins to to walk away. She quickly grabs his wrist and once again dons her best pitiful sick person face.

“Stay. Please.” She “begs”, which works again (of course). Peter’s face breaks into a sad smile.

“Just turning off the lights, Emmy. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He leans over and kisses her on the forehand, and she does her best not to think of all the germs he may have actually just passed onto her. She had him in the palm of her hand, she couldn’t break the illusion now.

For the full effect, she lets out a few pained groans here and there as he turns off the ceiling and desk lights in his room, leaving them under the glow of the spidey string lights she’d bought him as a dorm-warming gift.

He’s rather sluggish as he makes his way back and up onto his bed. MJ figures he’ll be out as soon as his feverish head hits the pillow. And she’s basically right, as he lets out a huge yawn as soon as he curls up next to her.

“Get some rest, Em.” He murmurs, already taking his own advice. “‘M right here if you need me.” He snuggles closer to her with a sigh, his arm wrapping around her torso and face pressing into the side of her shoulder. Only moments later soft snores are coming from his mouth.

“You too, dork.” She responds.

Mission accomplished, MJ thinks triumphantly.

#sicktember #sicktember2021 #spideychelle #sick peter parker

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supersickies · 3 years

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Summary: "Steve absolutely wasn’t nervous. Compared to every intense and grueling Avengers mission he’s completed, taking care of a sick kid was a walk in the park right? Except when this sick kid was also one of the most precious things within Tony Stark’s life and if anything were to happen to this boy there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that Tony would dump him in an instant.

So no, Steve was not nervous at all."

Tony has meetings, Steve has anxiety, and poor Peter just has a fever.

A/N: It’s Sicktember 2021! Very excited for this month and to see all of the amazing works! Not to mention it gives me an excuse and the motivation to write as many sickfics as I can! And let's see if I do because writer's block is too real right now :) Anyway thank you @sicktember for coming up with this month of prompts and I hope you all like this little fic! Read it here or click the link to read on AO3!

Steve absolutely wasn’t nervous. Compared to every intense and grueling Avengers mission he’s completed, taking care of a sick kid was a walk in the park right? Except when this sick kid was also one of the most precious things within Tony Stark’s life and if anything were to happen to this boy there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that Tony would dump him in an instant.

So no, Steve was not nervous at all.

Tony, however, could see right through the false confidence.

“Relax, Stevie! Good lord, I can feel you panicking from over here.” Tony jokes as he enters the living room and gathers his briefcase and Stark gadgets for his day of meetings.

Steve jolts a bit as he looks up at Tony. “Huh? I-I’m not panicking.”

“You were just glaring daggers into Petey over there, hon.” Tony points out, to which Steve just shrugs with a blush. “There’s really no need to worry Cap, the kid is probably just gonna sleep and cough a bit until I’m back, alright? And if he wakes up and gets antsy or something just heat up some of the soup I made and throw on Adventure Time. Pete’s an easy kid, I swear.”

Steve stands from his chair with a deep breath and nods in understanding. Tony strides over to the super-soldier and takes his face in his hands. “There’s no one I trust more with Peter than you. Except maybe Pepper, but she can literally do everything.”

Steve laughs at that and bends down to give Tony a quick peck on the lips. They break apart so Tony can give Peter’s hair a quick ruffle. His hand pauses on the boy’s forehead as he gauges his fever. His lips quirk downward, he does not love the temperature the kids running at the moment.

With a sigh, he stands up and walks hand in hand with Steve to the elevator. “I think his fever went up, so just keep an eye on that. Friday is down for maintenance so you’ll probably want to wake him up in a bit to take his temperature manually.” The elevator doors open and the super couple shares one last peck before Tony steps in. “I’m just thirty floors down! You’re gonna do great! I love you both!” Tony calls as the doors close and suddenly Steve is alone. Well, save for the snoring spider-teen on the couch.

Steve wanders back to the living room, nervously glancing at Peter as he does. The poor kid is basically in the exact opposite of his regular state. On a normal day, Peter was a bright ball of action, seemingly unable to stop talking or moving at all. But that wasn’t the Peter he saw now.

Instead, this Peter was silent. Sick. There’s an eerie ambiance in the air and Steve hates it.

So, to quell the weird vibe, he turns the tv to TCM, (un-ironically his favorite channel as the rest of the team loved to tease him about) and sets it at a low volume so he doesn’t wake the kid.

He’s just about to the end of an old western film when he hears Peter groan and shuffle around on the couch. The sick teen sits up wearily, his hair a mess and his eyes unfocused. Not to mention his cheeks are deeply flushed with fever, which has clearly gotten worse in the last forty-five minutes.

“S’eve?” Peter slurs as he spots the super solider.

Steve’s focus quickly turns to the kid, who looks undoubtedly sicker. “Hey, Pete. How you feeling, pal?” Stupid question, Rogers. He thinks to himself.

Peter sniffs and shivers with sudden chills. “Mm, n-not v’ry good.” His voice cracks as tears fill to his eyes. His sleep-addled brain catching up to and feeling the full effect of his feverish achy body. He can’t stop his breath as it hitches and the tears spill over. It just hurts so much.

Steve’s up and at the boy’s side almost inhumanly fast, doing his best to comfort him. Unfortunately, he’s no expert on Peter care (i.e, he’s not Tony). If there’s one thing he does know, however, is that you can never go wrong playing with the kid’s hair, which Steve had quickly learned by watching his boyfriend. And while Tony was the “Peter scalp massage pro”, Peter definitely wasn’t picky about who or how. The kid simply just wanted his hair touched.

So Steve did just that. The larger man was relieved to find that the action had the desired effect—Peter had calmed almost instantly, curling up against Steve’s side— but the super soldier was quickly fulled with nerves again as he felt the nearly scalding heat coming from the kid.

When Peter had relaxed enough, Steve grabbed the thermometer Tony had left on the coffee table. Peter spots the machine in Steve’s hand and opens his mouth, accustomed to the routine after being sick all day yesterday as well.

With the thermometer under his tongue, Peter lets his eyes close as they wait for the reading to be done. When it is, Peter lightly jumps at the beep before burrowing back into Steve’s side as the blonde takes the thermometer back and reads its results.

And while Peter looks peaceful once again, Steve is panicking. 103.5. Steve’s not a scientist but he knows that’s not a good temperature for the body to be.

“Friday can you- ah.” Oh, right. Steve remembers that the AI was down for maintenance. Instead, he looks around for his phone, ready to research exactly what he should do for a kid with a near brain-melting fever.

Steve bites the inside of his cheek as he, again, remembers. He doesn’t have a phone right now, as he sat with his last one in his back pocket and it cracked in half. He and Tony had laughed themselves to tears when it happened.

Steve wasn’t laughing now.

He’s thrown back into the moment as Peter groans again, another intense chill running through the kid’s frame. Poor kid must be freezing, Steve thinks.

Freezing.

With that realization, Steve is taken back to his teen years. The years he spent consistently sick and feverish like Peter is now. The years his Ma used to keep him in bed for days, wrapped in every blanket they had in their house.

Blankets!

Steve suddenly remembers how to treat a high fever. You sweat it out, duh. With a tiny smile at the memory of his Ma, he stands from the couch carefully and heads to Tony’s linen closet. He spots a soft looking quilt beside a thick fluffy throw and grabs the two, knowing that when paired with the blanket the kid was already wrapped in they would make the perfect fever banishing covers.

Peter is almost back to sleep when Steve returns, but he hears the man's footsteps and his eyes open again. Steve makes quick work of unfolding the blankets and laying them over Peter. The kid hums, content with the warmth of the added blanked combating his chills, and falls swiftly to sleep. It makes Steve smile, pleased with his ability to care for the sick spidering.

Steve was feeling pretty confident that Tony was going to be just as pleased.

______

Tony Stark was far from pleased.

He had excused himself from his meeting after an hour, intent on checking Peter’s vitals on his phone through the watch the boy wore on his wrist.

What he saw was less than ideal. In fact, it was terrifying. 104.3 should be Peter’s physics grade after perfectly completing extra credit for fun, not his kid’s body temperature. The mechanic bolts to the nearest elevator, paying no mind to the white-collar assholes who awaited his return. They didn’t matter, not when his kid’s brain was melting thirty floors up.

“Steve!” He shouts when the elevator doors finally open to the penthouse. The blonde jumps when he hears his name and his eyes widen as he sees his panicked boyfriend sprinting towards him.

“Tony wha-?”

“Where’s Peter, Steve? Where is he— is he okay?”

Still a bit flustered, Steve just points to the sleeping boy on the couch, still wrapped in the thick blankets. When Tony sees him, his eyes only go wider.

“What, are you trying to fucking roast him?” Tony asks, exasperated. Before Steve can answer, Tony begins removing the blankets from his kid. Cringing at the heat that wafts out from them as they go.

“I-I- his fever got higher! I was trying to help him sweat it out!” Steve stumbles through his explanation.

“Sweat it out? Jesus fuck what are you from the thir- oh my god you’re from the thirties.” Tony halts with the realization. Steve Rogers was borderline a complete stranger to modern medicine and comes from an era of absolute batshit home remedies. The man smoked cigarettes for his asthma for fucks sake.

“Okay, alrighty then. Steve do me a favor and go start a lukewarm bath for me please.” Tony orders in about the most anxiously calm voice Steve had ever heard.

“Okay but Tony-“

“Now please, Steven.” Tony demands once more. Steve gets the memo, fast, and quickly heads to Tony’s bathroom.

Shit.

_____

After a quick dip in the tub and a quick anxiety attack from Tony, Peter’s temperature is back down to a less dangerous level. He’s sat back on the couch in the lightest t-shirt and boxers he owns, sipping ice water through a straw with a fever patch stuck to his forehead. Maybe it was overkill, but you couldn’t tell Tony that.

When the boy's eyes begin to droop Tony takes the water from his hands and helps him lay back down.

“Comfy, bubba?” He asked in a hushed tone. Peter just nods and yawns as he closes his eyes and quickly drifts back to sleep. “Get some more sleep bud.” He hums softly, laying a thin—thin—blanket over his kid.

Steve watches the pair from afar, afraid to step in or offer any more “help”. He doubts Tony will even want to look at him after what he’s done. Which is why when Tony stands and turns to him, he immediately tenses. He’s ready to be yelled at, cursed at, probably dumped.

“C’mere.” Tony says, opening his arms to Steve, inviting him into a hug. The blonde is shocked, sure, but he accepts the hug quickly, silently thinking it could be his last with the man he’s come to love so much.

“Again, Stevie, I can hear you overthinking.” Tony mumbles against his boyfriend's shoulder. He pulls away from the hug and takes the man's hands, looking up at him. “All things considered, you did nothing wrong, hon.”

“Tony I just-“

“You just did what you thought was right. You didn’t know any better Steve.” Tony rebuts before Steve can even finish.

“I’m just…I’m really sorry Tony. You trusted me with your most important person and— I fucked up bad.” Steve apologizes.

“Woah there big guy!” Tony’s brows shoot up at the apology. “First off, language mister.” Tony teases, it makes Steve blush and a hint of a smile ghosts his lips. Tony sees that as a win. “Second, yes, you’re correct. Peter is incredibly important to me. He’s my kid, but you are my Steve!” Tony emphasizes, shaking Steve’s shoulders a bit as if it will help get the point across. “You are incredibly important to me too! You made a mistake, and guess what Steve, that’s human— you’re human!”

Steve smiles sadly and nods before looking back at Peter’s sleeping form on the couch, just double-checking that the kid was truly fine.

Tony huffs lightly, using his fingers to softly move Steve’s head so he’s looking at him again. “Look at me, love. Peter’s fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, and we are fine. Okay?”

Steve takes a deep breath, closing his eyes with a smile. “Okay.” He confirms quietly. He can feel Tony’s hands move to cup the sides of his cheeks as he’s brought into a deep kiss. It quells all of his anxieties. Tony is here, with him, and he’s not going anywher-

“Eeugh, y-you guys ‘re cute and stuff, but the PDA ’s kinda makin’ me nauseous.” Peter’s voice breaks their kiss. Both Avengers turn to the kid, their faces about as red as his feverish cheeks after getting caught.

Tony snorts. “Oh come on kiddie!” Tony pulls Steve’s face closer to his again, this time just peppering kisses across his face. “A man can’t show his boyfriend some love?”

The older men laugh until they hear a legitimate gag from Peter. “N-no I’m serious Mr. Stark—“ Gag. “I’m really nauseous.”

“Steven grab a trash can.” Tony prompts, the same anxiously calm demeanor back in his voice as before.

Steve wastes no time, sprinting to the closest receptacle. “On it!”

#sicktember #sicktember 2021 #sick peter parker #stevetony #iron dad #sickfic

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supersickies · 4 years

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Summary: “It went without saying that getting bitten by a radioactive spider had its perks.

But apparently a cure for the common cold wasn’t one of them.”

College final exam season leaves Peter sick with a nasty cold, and on his wonderful girlfriend Michelle's first day of her summer internship too. Now it's up to mama Pepper and little sis Morgan to nurse their favorite spiderling back to health.

A/N: This was intended to be a little drabble based on a post I saw (I can’t find it for the life of me but once I do I’ll reblog it asap) but it ended up being a 5k+ fic of sweet sick Peter and his mess of a family. I couldn’t help it I love them all too much. You can read it on Ao3 or under the cut! Whatever what works for you!

Spider-Man can, in fact, catch a cold. This was something that Peter was surprised, yet annoyed to discover. Before the bite, Peter was a sickly, asthmatic, all around fragile kid, and while it wasn’t something that he was exactly confident about he never let it crush his spirit. However, that didn’t mean that as soon as the spider bite rid his body of all his past ailments Peter wasn’t overjoyed. He could finally run a mile without having to stop a quarter of the way through or eat a PB&J without having to instantly call an ambulance. It went without saying that getting bitten by a radioactive spider had its perks.

But apparently a cure for the common cold wasn’t one of them.

He and Mr. Stark discovered this about a year after he was bitten when he had come down with a nasty case of bronchitis that had him hacking all over the compound for four days. Since then Peter was bound to catch a bug here and there, much like he used to before the bite just less severe. It was harder for him to catch things as well, his immune system was usually a force to be reckoned with, unless for any reason Peter was not at “peak Spidey performance” as Mr. Stark would say.

Which leads us to now, a mere 24 hours after the last final exam of his junior year at Columbia, Peter was laid in bed suffering through what he would consider the nastiest cold he’d ever had.

It was barely after sunrise, the clock reading a taunting 5:30, and Peter doing everything he could not to sneeze. With deep, even, wheezy, breaths, the spider-boy was using all his strength to keep the sneeze at bay for one reason. MJ. His lovely, wonderful, amazing Michelle who was starting her first day of her summer internship at nine and would massacre Peter if he woke her up before her alarm. The girl loved her sleep, and Peter would be damned if he deprived her of it.

Think of anything else Peter, literally anything. Remember that big biker guy you helped on patrol the other week? He was pretty nice…oh god it iiihhtches…no, enough Peter, biker guy. Right he had that cool jacket with the patches, I bet I could pull off a leather jacket. Maybe put a spidey patch on the back? Fun…cool…really gotta sneeze. Ugh, FUCK! Okay, okay maybe if you just do that pinch-y sneeze, like Ned and Natasha do…heh imagine Ned knowing he had the same sneeze as Black Widow, he’d flip. Ehh..fuhhhhuck okay thats it, pinch-y sneeze please don’t fail me.

With a shaky hand Peter pinches his nose between his thumb and his forefinger, the motion instantly making his nose tickle more and within seconds Peter was attempting, and failing, to stifle his sneeze.

And it failed hard.

The sneeze was stronger than it seemed and instead of being held back and becoming a noiseless stifle, it came out louder than it should have as it scraped the back of his throat, causing barking coughs to escape as well.

Well everyone, bid him farewell, this will be the day that Peter Parker meets his untimely demise. He instantly feels MJ stir against him with a groan. She was up, oh god sound the alarm she was awake.

“P’ter? That you?” She slurs, sleep lacing her voice.

“Umb, yeah. Sorry embjay I didn’d mbean to sndeeze.” God how he wished his could blow his nose, but he was not going to poke the bear any further.

It was quiet for a moment, Peter knew that he was in danger. MJ was plotting how she was going to murder him and it was only a matter of time before she-

“You feeling okay, baby?” Her angelic voice rings as she turns to face him on the bed. “You sound terrible.”

It was like music to Peter’s ears. He would live to see another day! He was almost shocked, she didn’t even pepper in the classic “loser” nickname. She was concerned. Wait, did he really sound that bad? Should he be concerned?

Peter clears his throat before responding. “I-I thingk I’mb combing down with sombthing. I’mb sorry I’ll try to be quieter.” A wet sniffle concludes his sentence. Damn it he really wants a tissue.

Almost as if MJ could read minds, she places a soft white Kleenex into his hand. “Blow your nose, Pete. I’m gonna go get the humidifier, you’re way too congested.”

“O-Oh, okay. Thangk you Emmby.” He uses her absence to sit up a little and expel the nasty gunk from his sinuses. He still can’t completely breathe, but it’s better than it was before. MJ comes back into the room moments later, carrying the chunky machine. The water inside of it sloshes a bit as she set’s it on Peter’s bedside table but as soon as she plugs it into the wall, a warm soft mist starts flowing from its lid. Peter can’t tell a difference now, but he knows it’ll make a difference the longer it runs.

Satisfied with how the humidifier is working, Michelle sits beside Peter on the bed and looks at him quizzically. “How’d you get so sick?” She questions, her fingertips reaching to brush Peter’s bed head away from his eyes. His forehead moderately warm, but it doesn’t feel like anything that provokes worry.

He hums at her soft touch but shrugs his shoulders at her question. “Don’t kdnow,” He presses the tissue to his nose as it starts running, the humidifier must be working. “I felt fidne yesterday. Mbaybe kinda tired but ndot sick.”

“You know what it probably is?” Michelle says. “All those nights up late studying, not to mention all that trash food you ate-“

“What is this, mbake fun of your poor sick boyfriend day?” He gives a wet coughs for emphasis, and because he really needed to cough.

“Sorry sicky,” She giggled. “what I’m saying is that you had a long hard week and you weren’t exactly taking the best care of yourself. No shame in it, I mean, it happens to everyone but I think your body is so used to you eating well and exercising often that as soon as you stopped your immune system freaked out.

Clearing his throat, Peter nods. “I guess that mbakes sense.” He looks down with a sigh, thinking of all the things he was scheduled to do today. “I better call Todny and tell him I can’t combe in to the lab.” He sighs and reaches for his phone but MJ intercepts.

“First you’re going to go back to sleep until a reasonable hour. It’s almost 6 a.m. Parker, and my alarm goes off at 8, so I’d like a few more hours of rest.” She jabs, pulling the covers up to his chin and kissing him softly on the cheek. “And you definitely need the beauty sleep.”

Peter chuckles at that, which only lead to more hacking coughs. MJ softly pats his back until the coughs subside. With a tsk she tucks him into bed once more before rounding the bed to lay back down on her side. “Rest, I’ll let you know when I’m about to head to work.”

With his eyes closed and his breathing only slightly less congested, thank you humidifier, he smiles contently. “Thank you Emmby, love you.”

“Love you too, snotty.”

Peter wakes again to a kiss on the forehead and the scent of strong perfume making his nose tickle. Before he even opens his eyes, he curls in on himself and muffles three sneezes into his pillow. Ugh, gross. He opens his bleary eyes to see MJ smoothing out her work outfit in their full length mirror. She looks amazing as usual, Peter notes, but her perfume is strong. Or maybe he’s just way too sensitive, a super cold and super senses probably don’t mix well. Without warning, two more sneezes barrel out and he barely has time to cover them. With a groan he sniffles thickly and reaches for the tissue box conveniently placed on his bedside table. He get a warm and fuzzy feeling as he realizes MJ had put them there for him, as they weren't there when he had woken up earlier. It’s the little things. He blows his nose, which get’s MJ’s attention.

She glances over to him with a smile. “Good morning, again.”

“Good mbornding, you look ambazindg.” He rasps, a goofy smile painting his face.

MJ breathes out a laugh at her dopey boyfriend. “Thank you, dork. How’re you feeling?”

He snuggles deeper into the bed, closing his eyes again and coughing weakly. “Call a physiciand,” Peter jokes in a congested and bad British accent. He throws a hand over his forehead for good measure. “I believe it mbay be the plague.”

MJ snorts a laugh at her boy’s dramatics. “Okay, you sickly child king.”

Her heels clack against the hardwood floor of the bedroom as she steps over to where he lies in their bed. As she sits on the bed, her soft hand cups his forehead and then his cheek. “You’re soft.” He mumbles, leaning into her touch.

“And you are running a bit of a fever.” She rubs her thumb sweetly over his cheek before standing back up. She tells him to sit tight and goes to the bathroom to grab a digital thermometer. She returns to find him dozing so she gently brushes his hair back to get his attention. He lifts his eyes to see the thermometer in her hand and opens his mouth just wide enough that she can slip the device under his tongue. “Give that a minute.”

MJ walks out of the room a moment later and Peter hears running water from the kitchen. The thermometer beeps right before she reenters, ice water with a straw in hand. Peter didn’t realize until he saw it just how thirsty he was. He stares at her lovingly as she takes the thermometer from between his lips. “Are you a mbind reader?” He asks, only semi-joking as he sits up slightly to sip the water.

Michelle scoffs lightly. “You bet your ass I am.” She jokes looking down at the medical tool. “Hm, 100.8. Not horrendous but I don’t love it.” Once again she’s gone, this time to the bathroom where Peter hears more water running, making him want to take another sip of his water. He sighs as the cool drink soothes his dry throat. MJ strides back to the bed with a damp face towel folded in half. When she starts to dab Peter’s forehead with the cool cloth he can’t help the shuddering sigh that escapes him. She stops. “You alright?”

Her boyfriend just nods, opening his eyes to look up at her with a small smile. “Feels good. Cold.” He explains. She smiles back at him, taking the cup of water from his hands so he can lay back down. She continues to wipe his brow with the towel and doesn’t stop until a snore leaves his mouth. MJ can’t help the giggle that bubbles up, but to be fair she’s never heard Peter snore before and right now he was quite a sight to see. His hair was sticking up at all angles, even in his reclined position, his nose nearing a shade of bright red, and his mouth open just wide enough that the tiny snores were heard.

She couldn’t help but snap a quick picture to send to Tony.

MJ:

your favorite little mentee won’t be in today…Spidey caught the sniffles : /

Old Man Stark:

Wow he looks rough, you have your internship today?

MJ:

yep first day

dont wanna leave him like this tho

Old Man Stark:

Don’t stress, this is a big day for you. I have meetings all day but Pep would be more than happy to stop by and make sure all is well.

Morgan too

She’s in her “wanting to be a doctor” phase

MJ:

you trying to say she cant be a doctor, stark?

Old Man Stark:

Good lord of course not

The kid is smarter than me and she’s barely 11

I’m just saying wasn’t there a point in your life when you wanted to be a doctor too?

MJ:

yeah of course

Old Man Stark:

And you’re now getting a degree in…?

MJ:

journalism

Old Man Stark:

so…

MJ:

i could be a doctor if i wanted to

Old Man Stark:

I know

And thats why you terrify me

MJ:

>:-)

Old Man Stark:

Go to work!

Let us take care of Peter and we’ll keep you updated as you break into the great big world of being a working adult.

MJ:

:P thanks T-Star

Old Man Stark:

Don’t call me T-Star.

Michelle pockets her phone and grabs her computer bag that’s packed and ready in the living room. Quickly she takes out a stray piece of paper and jots down a quick note for her boy just incase he wakes up alone.

Petey,

Had to get to the office (wish me luck lol) but Pepper and Morgan should be by soon. Please don’t die while I’m gone. I’ll be pissed if you do that. Wash your hands, blow your nose, and don’t leave used tissues on the bed that’s gross. Love you. Feel better.

-M

Satisfied, she leaves the note under the tissue box, gives him one last kiss on the forehead, and makes her way out the door. But not before sending Morgan that goofy picture of Peter.

MJ:

here

use this as blackmail

tell him you’ll post it on insta next time he says he won’t take you to mcdonalds

Mo Mo Stark:

HAHAHAHAHAHA

Peter wakes to his front door closing and whispering coming from the living room. He panics for a moment before realizing that the voices belonged to Pepper and Morgan. As the fan blows above him, he hears a piece of paper flutter next to him. With a shaky hand he grabs it and reads over the note that MJ had left for him. He cant help but blush, just at the thought of his girlfriend. He wonders how her first day is going. He misses her a lot. Then he realizes his fever must of gone up, as he definitely wasn’t this emotionally fragile when he had gone to sleep.

With a yawn, he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed and grabs the quilt at the end and wraps it around his around his shoulders. With a huff he slides off the bed and makes his way to the living room. He finds Pepper setting grocery bags down on the kitchen island and Morgan already situated in front of the TV, some YouTube vlog video playing over the speakers.

“Morgan Hope, turn that down before you wake your broth-“ Pepper stops when she notices Peter standing in the doorway. “Oh, afternoon sweetheart! Did Morgan wake you? I’m so sorry I told her to quiet down-“

“Pep, it’s okay, I actually woke up whend you guys walked ind.” He rasps, congestion still heavy in his horse voice.

“Oh honey you sound awful, come on now, on the couch. You shouldn’t be up.” Pepper says, guiding him with a hand on his back to the couch. Morgan scoots a bit to make room for her big brother.

“Hi, Dr. Mborgand, you brindg any of the good drugs today?” Peter jokes, making the girl roll her eyes.

“Mom, Peter says he on drugs. He needs to detox stat. Get me an IV with glutathione, vitamin C, and vitamin B.” The youngest Stark states.

Her mother sighs as she returns to the kitchen. “Alright, that’s enough Discovery Life for you. Why can’t you just watch Disney Channel like a normal eleven year old.” Pepper mumbles as she starts taking items out of the grocery bags.

Peter and Morgan just giggle, which leads to a coughing fit from Peter. Morgan’s tiny hand pats his back as he hacks into his elbow, he murmurs an apology as the coughs taper off.

“You need to lay down Petey, and you need tissues.” Morgan articulates as she stands and looks around the apartment.

Clearing his throat, Peter points to the bedroom. “There should be sombe tissues by mby bed…if you could grab those that’d be ndice.”

Morgan nods confidently and makes her way to the bedroom. Seconds later she reemerges with the tissue box in hand and places them in the crook of Peter’s arm.

“Thangk you doctor.” Peter smiles, causing Morgan to smile in return.

“You’re welcome!” The girl returns to her spot on the couch and presses play on the video she was watching. It was vlog about makeup, Peter assumed, as the YouTuber was covered in a very impressive, glossy, look and was showing off makeup pallettes. Peter watches as the video cuts and suddenly the makeup artist is bare faced and begins to work on the look they had previewed in the intro.

Pepper chuckles as she approaches the couch, mug of hot tea with lemon and honey in hand. She hands the cup to Peter, who is drowsily watching the makeup being applied. “You don’t have to watch this you know.” Pepper whispers to him. “This is your apartment and you’re sick, turn on whatever you want.”

Taking a sip of the tea, humming as it soothes his sore-ish throat, Peter shakes his head. “Ndo, this is awesombe, look at how precise he is with the brush. Oh, thangks for the tea…also.” Pepper chuckles more, kissing the boy on the top of the head, and leaving him with Morgan to watch some internet celebrity do a perfect line with their liquid eyeliner.

Pepper had called May in the morning after hearing from Tony that Peter wasn't feeling well, knowing the boys aunt would have all the inside knowledge on how to care for a sick Peter. It wasn’t as if Pepper had never seen Peter sick, though. Since Tony had introduced them to each other way back before Morgan was even a thought, Peter had spent some sick days in the tower, the compound, and even one or two in the lake house. Yes, Pepper had seen a sick Peter Parker in her lifetime, however this was the first time she was his sole caretaker. However, after the quick call to the boy’s aunt, Pepper had a pretty good idea of how to care for the sick Spiderling.

“Oh for a cold?” May had responded. “Simple, grilled cheese and tomato soup for every meal, he’ll probably want to watch Parks and Rec all day, oh and he has Tony’s old MIT hoodie in his closet and he always wears it when he’s not feeling well.”

Pepper smiled at that. When Peter decided to stay in New York for college, for family and spider-y reasons, it was no secret that Tony had been a little disappointed. No, Tony hadn’t done anything special to get Peter into MIT, honestly because he didn’t have too. Peter’s grades and test scores were good enough on their own, but he still would have loved to have seen the kid at his alma mater. When Peter had told him of his college decision, scared out of his mind might he add, Tony just hugged and told him he was proud of him. Tony reassured the kid that where ever he went to school was fine by him and that he’d support him the whole way through. “I am going to need that MIT sweatshirt back” Tony had joked, waiting to be met by a “shut up Tony” or an eye roll, but instead he was met with tears— big fat ones that welled up in Peter’s eyes. Tony was quick to see he had messed up and it took about twenty minutes to reassure the boy that he didn't want the sweatshirt back and that “of course I still love you Peter”. Since then Peter has kept the garment close to him at all times, just incase Tony ever thought about taking it.

Pepper goes to Peter’s closet, instantly spotting the faded maroon hoodie and taking it off of the hanger. Both he and Morgan are still mesmerized by the YouTube video, but they glance up when Pepper walks over again. Peter’s eyes light up at the sight of the hoodie in her hands. He’s close to making grabby hands for it but she hands it to him first. He puts it on and settles back down onto the couch. “Thangk you Pep.”

“Keep it safe, can’t have Tony snatching it.” She jabs as she walks back to the kitchen to start the grilled cheese.

Peter, though thoroughly invested in the new makeup video Morgan put on, can’t help but doze off as the ambient sounds of his apartment lull him to sleep. He hears a shuffling on the couch next to him and opens one of his eyes, seeing Morgan giggling at him. “Can I braid your hair Petey?” She whispers. In true college kid fashion, Peter had let his hair grow out a little bit, and while it wasn’t long enough to braid it all together, Morgan liked to do tiny braids with tufts of his hair for fun.

Turning onto his side away from Morgan, giving her better access to his hair, Peter chuckles at his little sister. “Go for it Mborgie, mbake mbe beautiful.”

With a squeal of delight, the eleven year old Stark pulls tiny hair-ties out of her pocket and gets to work. Peter, who had always loved having his hair played with, lets the braiding put him right to sleep after only a few tiny braids were done.

If Morgan laughed at the snores that came from Peter moments later, she didn't tell him. He did let her braid half his head, anyway.

The rest of the day passes in a sleepy haze for Peter. He remembers waking up a few moments after falling asleep on the couch. Pepper helping him sit up and setting a tray of his favorite sick day meal in his lap. He had to hand it to Pepper, she made a mean grilled cheese soup combo. He finishes the sandwich and about half of the soup before he feels his eyes grow heavy again and the tray is taken from his lap.

“Go back to sleep, hon. Morgan and I are here if you need us.” Pepper reassures the boy, so Peter does.

The next time he wakes was when Morgan and Pepper we’re on their way out. He vaguely remembers sluggishly thanking them for staying with him and Pepper saying something about MJ being home in just a few minutes, but as soon as the apartment door closes Peter was out once more.

The final time he wakes up is to Michelle gently shaking his shoulder, attempting to wake him from his short slumber. His eyes open, but quickly close again as he stretches his whole body, somehow exhausted and sore from his long day of sleeping.

“Emmby, you back?” He asks, not yet opening his eyes again.

He hears her adorable laugh and his heart soars. “Yes, dork, it’s me. Wanna open those pretty eyes for me, Tiger?”

Obviously wanting to see his beautiful girlfriend, he opens his eyes again. MJ looks tired from her first day but extremely happy.

“Was it ambazing? Everythindg you could have hoped for?” He asks, nuzzling closer to her thigh, much like a cat.

She hums an affirmation, bringing her hand up to trace random shapes along his arm. “It was everything and more. Honestly I can see myself working there forever. It was…it was perfect.”

Peter smiles at that. MJ deserved the perfect job and more. “Babe, that fandtastic. I’m so happy for you.” He says horsely but sincerely. He moves closer to her, raising his head a bit to lay it on her lap. With the motion, one of Morgan’s many little braids in his hair make themselves apparent and Michelle can help but burst with laughter.

It causes Peter to jolt up in a sleepy state of panic. “What, what happended?” He asks sitting up slightly, eyes half closed but alert.

She reaches up to ruffle the tiny braids that cover the right side of his head. “What is this? Did Morgan just learn how to fishtail braid because these are honestly kinda good.” She inspects the braids as Peter’s cheeks blush.

He smiles, coughing slightly and gently shaking his head so the braids flop around. That gets another laugh from MJ. “Mby sisters pretty talendted, huh?”

MJ nods, very amused. “An interesting look…but I’ll give it points for creativity.”

As the couple laughs again, Peter brings two fingers up to massage his temple as he feels a dull ache in his head.

“Headache?” Michelle frowns.

“Mhmm,” Peter confirms. “I thingk Mborgan made the braids a little too tight.”

“That’s no good.” MJ sympathizes, lowering her boy’s head back down onto her lap, braid side up so she can work on undoing the little knots. She makes quick work of it and within minutes, Peter’s hair is braid-less and the throbbing in head head dies down. In thanks, Peter snuggles his face closer Michelle’s middle, wrapping his arms around it as well.

“You thingk you can use a vacationd day tomborrow? I mbissed you today.” Peter whines, partly joking but sorta kinda being serious.

“From what I heard, your eyes were open for about thirty minutes today. Too busy sleeping to miss me that much.” MJ giggles at the sniffly boy with his head in her lap. He just shrugs in response, and she can feel his body relaxing and congested breaths evening out. “You going back to sleep on me already, Parker? Not even gonna let me tell you about my day?” She jokes again.

Peter snorts involuntarily as he turns his head to look up at her, eyes glossed with fever and sleepy but apologetic. “I’mb up I’mb up, tell mbe everything.”

She grabs the sides of his face sweetly, slightly squishing his cheeks while she kisses his forehead and then his nose. “I’m kidding, Peter. God your brain must be frying, come on let's go to bed.” She pats his cheek lightly and helps him sit up.

He yawns with his whole body, his hands stretching into the air and his back arching. “But it’s only like six, arend’t you hungry for dinnder?” He coughs into his fists while Michelle takes his other hand, helping him lift off the couch.

“Let me rephrase. You’re going to shower, put new pajamas on, and get in bed while I make us grilled cheeses, your second one today I'm assuming. How does that sound?” MJ asks, leading him to their bathroom.

Peter clears his throat as he sits on the closed toilet. “And…umb…and the tombato soup?”

The shower roars to life as MJ turns the handle. “You think I’d forget the most important part?” She scoffs, feigning hurt. Peter just smiled, the dopey smile he gets when he thinks about how in love he is with this girl. With two more quick forehead kisses she leaves him to shower.

Peter exits the shower feeling refreshed, less stuffy, and hungry once more. Thanks to the shower stream he can faintly smell the toasty cheesy smell from the kitchen and it gives him a nostalgic feeling.

As he grabs pajama pants and the MIT hoodie, Peter thinks of the first time he got sick after going to live with Ben and May. It was the first day of what was considered flu season and the sickly kid had contracted the virus at the drop of a hat. He was miserable the whole day, crying and wallowing in the aches and pains of the illness. The biggest issue, however, was that he refused to eat anything, that is until Ben decided to make himself a grilled cheese for dinner.

The older Parker noticed Peter looking the sandwich with feverish eyes. “Look tasty, bud?” Ben questioned, raising an eyebrow. Little Peter just nodded and Ben smiled, extremely relieved that his nephew was finally going to eat.

Sticking his pointer and middle finger in his mouth, Peter watches as his uncle stands from the couch and starts on another sandwich. “Uncle Ben?” Peter asks in a small voice. Ben looks back over to the kid and nods. “Do you have any of the-the red soup? Mommy always made grilled cheese with red soup.” Peter nearly whispered.

Ben thinks for a minute, not completely sure what the boy meant by red soup, but then it clicks. “Oh! Tomato soup?” He smiles as Peter nods. Ben open the cupboard to him and pulls out a can of tomato soup, flipping it in the air once to see Peter smile. “Tomato soup and grilled cheese coming right up monsieur Parker.” Ben says in a horrible French accent which makes the six year old giggle, as sound that was music to Ben’s ears after all tears. From then on, Peter would only insist on eating that particular meal anytime he had so much as a headache.

The door creaking open as MJ pushes it with her hip brings Peter out of his thoughts. She has the tray of grilled cheeses and soups in her hands and an amused look on her face. “You okay? Need help with something?”

Peter blinks and remembers that he’s sitting in the edge of their bed, in a towel, pajamas in hand. “Oh…no I’mb okay. Just thinking ‘bout stuff.”

MJ sets the tray down on her bedside table. “You already sound less stuffy. Maybe you should sleep in the shower.” She quips, not missing Peter's sweet tiny giggle as she grabs the water tank from the humidifier and takes it to the bathroom with her.

Peter gets dressed and settles into bed. He notices that Pepper has changed the sheets and his heart clinches, nearly overwhelmed by the love he feels from his family. He takes out his phone to text her a thank you but is intercepted by a string of texts from Tony.

Tony Stank:

Morgs is showing me pictures of the wonderful makeover she gave you

Honestly thought you pulled it off really well

…but you need a haircut

Please kiddo let me get you in with my hair guy

You’ll love him

Spider-Tot:

sorry pops but I am fully committing to this college hair thing

mj says she wants me in a man bun by graduation so

cant let my girl down

Tony Stank:

I swear you two are conspiring against me

Oh well

How you feeling bud?

Spider-Tot:

still kinda gross

snotty

but i think my fevers kinda lower

so thats something

tell pep thank you so so much for today

i was barely awake when they left

i feel bad I didn't get to say anything

Tony Stank:

I gotcha Pete don’t worry

If you need more company tomorrow let me know I’m free all day

Spider-Tot:

wdym ill just come in to the lab tomorrow

Tony Stank:

That’s a negative Petey Pie

As your gracious boss i’m giving you the next three days off

I want all this crap out of your system before you’re back in the lab

Spider-Tot:

three days ??

boooo

u stink old man

Tony Stank:

Good lord

You’re the only person I know that complains about getting days off from work

Get a good nights sleep and maybe ill bring you a circuit board to mess with tomorrow

Good enough?

Spider-Tot:

hmmm

fine

Tony Stank:

Good

Now go rest

Don’t bother your girlfriend too much

She complains to me when you do

Spider-Tot:

now I think its you two conspiring against me

night tony

love u

Tony Stank:

Love you too bambino

Michelle returns from the bathroom, makeup off, hair down, and humidifier tank full of water. She sets the tank back in and turns the machine on, steam filling the air. After quickly putting on her own set of pajamas, MJ takes her and Peter’s dinner from the side table and places it on the bed between them. Peter wastes no time digging in, groaning in admiration for the food. He mumbles a thanks with his mouth full and MJ laughs, wiping a bit of soup off of his lip with her thumb.

“You’re welcome, loser.” She teases, beginning to eat her own meal. After a few bites she take the TV remote by her side and flips on Peter’s favorite sick day show.

As the Parks and Recreation theme song begins to play, Peter looks up at his girlfriend with appreciative eyes. “You’re too good to mbe.”

“You remember that next time I make you vacuum and you get pissy about it.” Michelle deadpans, but Peter knew she was messing around.

“I’m not messing around.” She clarifies, turning to look at his with one eyebrow raised.

“You really are a mbind reader.” Peter whispers with feverish wonder.

Throwing a paper towel at him playfully, MJ laughs and Peter joins her. They finish their food as the TV continues to play in the background, Peter yawning and coughing quietly as soon as he swallows his last bite. Without a word, MJ takes the empty plates and tray back to the kitchen. She turns off the bedroom lights as she reenters and tucks herself back under the covers. It's barely after 7 p.m. and the sun it only just starting to set, making the room glow a with dark blues and purples.

Peter is cuddled into her side as soon as she's back in bed, head resting on her chest and arm around her waist. “What am I gonna do with you Peter Parker?” She sighs, twirling her fingers through his already messy hair.

“Love mbe, no matter what? Even if I’mb yucky like this?” He pulls out the puppy dog eyes for this one. MJ may be stoic on the outside but not even she can resist the sweet sparkling glare.

“If I must.” She agrees, holding him tighter and resting her head on top of his.

But she’s happy to do it. Loving Peter Parker is an extremely easy thing, MJ thinks.

#sick peter parker #spideychelle #petermj #irondad #spideychelle fic #pepper and morgan are the best #little sister morgan #domestic fluff #college au #peter and mj are like 22 #and morgan is 11 #and already a genius of course

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supersickies · 4 years

Note

3 for the whump prompts: "you're gonna make yourself sick" Tony or Happy to Peter please!

Swinging in the Rain

Thank you @whumphoarder for beta reading ❤️

Link to read on Ao3

Raindrops tap against the windows as Happy sits in the living room of the Parkers’ apartment, watching an episode of Downton Abbey on his tablet with the volume down low. May is sound asleep down the hall in their room, having gone to bed a few hours ago, and Peter still hasn’t come home from patrol yet.

It’s a silent agreement Happy and May have developed in the two months since they’ve been married—one of them will stay up and wait while the other gets some rest, just until they know Peter’s safely made it home.

Happy doesn’t know how May ever managed to do this part on her own, waiting up with the nagging anxiety, fearing the worst, unsure if he was hurt, or bleeding out in some ally, or worse.

Happy breathes out a sigh. Peter is tough and he’s seen the kid in action many times before as Spider-Man. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself. Happy brings his cup of now-lukewarm tea up to his lips to take a sip, only for his phone to ring, interrupting the peaceful silence of the apartment.

He answers it, pushing away his fearful thoughts. The kid is probably just calling to let him know he’s on his way back. “Hey, Pete,” he quietly says into the phone. “You on your way home?”

“Uh, not really…” Peter replies. “I...I kinda need some help.”

“Define help,” Happy says, feeling his heart rate pick up in his chest.

“Uh… I sort of, maybe… fell?”

“How? Are you hurt?” Happy asks as he quickly puts his mug down on the end table and shoots up from the couch, ignoring the way his knees click in protest.

“N-No but I’m a little dizzy and…. I don’t think I can make it back with all of the rain right now…”

Happy races over to the kitchen and swipes his wallet and keys off the counter on his way to the door. “I’m on my way. Do you know where you are?” he asks as he shoves his feet into his shoes.

“Uh… an ally on 70th Avenue off of 147th I think.”

Happy nods as he slips his jacket on, grabbing one of Peter’s for him. “Alright. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Just stay put, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter answers.

Happy’s already out the door before the call is disconnected.

….

It takes Happy less than ten minutes until he’s rolling up to a dark alleyway and angling his car’s headlights down it, only to be met with the sight of Peter standing there, shivering and leaning against the brick building.

Happy throws open his door, squinting against the heavy downpour as he rushes over to him. His suit is soaked through and dripping wet. “Jesus, kid,” he mutters. “You’re gonna make yourself sick. Come on.” He wraps an arm around Peter’s trembling shoulders and leads him back to the car.

Only once he has Peter situated in the passenger seat, wrapped up in the jacket and a spare blanket with the heat blasting out of the vents and seat warmer set to high, does Happy finally allow himself to relax. The kid seems alright for the most part, soaking wet and possibly concussed, but thankfully looking to be otherwise in one piece.

“What happened?” Happy asks as he pulls the car back onto the street.

Peter runs a hand through his wet hair to push it back from his forehead. “I was just swinging and my shooter jammed up on me. Tony and I have been working on a new web solution and I really wanted to try it out… but I guess it doesn’t react that great with water. I fell and was trying to grab onto something… I think I slammed my head on a fire escape though,” he says, rubbing the side of his head.

Happy frowns and spares a worried glance at him. “And you didn’t think to test it out beforehand?”

“We did. I just didn’t think this would happen.” Peter sighs, snaking his hand back in the blanket he’s wrapped up in.

Happy focuses back on the road, which is thankfully almost empty at two-thirty in the morning. “How’s your head now?”

“Hurts… not as bad as before,” Peter says, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “You didn’t call Tony did you?”

“Not yet, but I will if I have to,” Happy answers, earning a small groan from the teen.

….

Arriving back at the apartment, Happy sends Peter to his room to change into some dry clothes while he makes him some tea to warm him up. When the teen emerges from his room in a pair of sweats and a long sleeve t-shirt a few minutes later, Happy makes him sit on the couch and checks him over for a concussion. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem too bad, aside from the good-sized lump on the side of his head.

“So, am I going to live?” Peter asks sarcastically.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Happy’s mouth. “Yeah, unfortunately for my cardiograms, you'll swing another day,” he says as he fusses over the teen, tucking all three of the blankets he found around him. “Let’s just not go out experimenting on untested web formulas in the rain again, deal?”

Peter smiles with a small nod. “Deal.”

Happy takes a seat next to him on the couch and lets out a breath he didn’t know he’s been holding, feeling all the stress and anxiety dissipate a bit. Tonight could have been a lot worse, but thankfully it wasn’t.

He picks up the remote and turns on HGTV, pulling up House Hunters International. Just like May, Peter is obsessed with the show and they’ve somehow gotten Happy hooked on it as well. It’s become their go-to show to marathon on family nights over boxes of take-out. . It’s a strange thing, being a family man now—but not an unwelcome one.

For five years it’d been just him and the Starks. When Morgan came along, she somehow warmed up Happy’s heart, which had become cold when he found out that Peter had died along with half the universe. But now, five years later, Peter and May were back, thank God. If they weren’t, Happy wouldn’t be here, living this wonderful life with them. They wouldn’t be a family like they are today.

The sudden weight of Peter’s head on his shoulder shakes Happy out of his thoughts, and he looks down, smiling as he sees that Peter is now watching the screen with half-lidded eyes. He’ll probably be out in a couple of minutes. The old Happy Hogan would have awkwardly shrugged the kid off, but now, this is one of his favorite things to do with Peter.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Pete,” Happy says softly, reaching a hand up to brush a stray curl from the kid’s forehead.

“S’rry,” Peter murmurs, a tired grin tugging at his mouth as he snuggles up further against the man.

#omg the FLAVOR!!!#ngl i love happy and may together #AND i love peter and happy being buds ESPICALLY after ffh #this is so good #and tonys still alive in this which is like major bonus points lol #spidey

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supersickies · 4 years

Text

Chills are such and underappreciated symptom tbh.

Characters shaking so bad that they end up spilling their drink all over themselves and needing somebody to hold their glass for them.

Or involuntarily waking up their sleeping partner because their teeth are chattering so much and no amount of blankets can ease their suffering.

Or snuggling up to their s/o in an attempt to steal their warmth despite being burning hot themselves.

Just. Chills.

#tbh one of my fave fever symptoms...#THE CUDDLING THO #we love it #blankets? love it

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supersickies · 4 years

Text

imagine usually quiet, polite, patient, calm and composed whumpees undergoing drastic (temporary) personality changes when they’re sick

A notices B’s been irritated and annoyed the whole day, only giving them sparing, snappy answers. finally, they can’t stand it. ‘hey, B, what’s bothering you?’

‘nothing,’ B says frustratedly. ‘what’s wrong with you? you’ve been asking me questions nonstop. i’m just tired, okay?’

that’s when A notices it - the faint flush on B’s face, the way they fold their arms around themselves, the little tinge of hoarseness in their voice, a small sneeze here and there

A reaches out and gently touches B’s forehead, causing B to flinch a little, and maybe bat away the hand in annoyance. ‘what?’

‘you have a fever.’

‘oh,’ B says, in a very small voice.

‘come on, let’s get you home.’

later at home, with A reading in bed and B snuggling up to them, drowsy from both the sickness and the medicine: ‘hey… A…’

‘what is it? is your headache still bothering you?’

‘just a little, but… i’m sorry for being so rude to you just now.’

‘it’s okay, don’t worry, okay? just focus on resting.’

‘i- i’m sorry for causing all this and ruining your day…’ small apologies won’t stop slipping out of B’s mouth and A keeps reassuring them constantly - it’s okay, you’re fine, don’t worry.

eventually, B drifts off to sleep, and A can’t help but wonder how they fell in love with this dork who acts so differently when they’re sick. they’re glad that they’re here though, so that B doesn’t have to be alone.

#ok i have plans for this omg #its not like i dont gave 3 wips rn #hmm love it here #i know it says calm and polite buuuut #.....ok but peter and mj i think we know whos who

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supersickies · 4 years

Text

falling asleep

- in the clamor and echoing noise of a crowded room, leaning on someone’s shoulder or stretched out to rest their head on someone’s lap, eyes shut against the lights, a coat pulled over them for a blanket

- quick and merciful at the end of a long daze of pain, the downward weight of medication taking effect at last, while a hand clutches theirs and a familiar voice whispers that it’s okay now

- weary from travel, warm at last and wrapped in blankets on a hard wooden floor, the fire softly crackling behind the grate, while wind rattles the shutters and their friends’ slow breathing nearby lulls them

- over and over again into a thin drowse, feverish, sweating and shivering, achy arms and legs too heavy to lift, the cycle broken now and again by the touch of cool damp cloth against their face and a spoon pressed to their cracked lips

- worn out after a long day, head forward onto folded arms laid on the table or desk, hair slipped down to hide their pallid cheeks, as someone lays a sweater over their shoulders with a light touch so as not to wake them

- to the sound of someone singing a song they barely remember from their past, but listening to it makes them smile, long years later - they’ll ask for the rest when they wake up…

#sleepy babies 🥺

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supersickies · 4 years

Link

Summary: “Mini-Boss, I’ve detected that your vitals are irregular and you seem to be suffering from a food induced illness. Would you like me to inform Mr. Stark?” FRIDAY’s voice came softly from above him. Of course it was food poisoning, and on the night that Peter picked the take-out too.”

Peter thought his dinner selection was pretty quality, but it comes back to prove him wrong just a few hours later, literally.”

A/N: Me? Posting on Ao3? Me Posting on this account? Unheard of, but stranger things have happened! Anyways the quarantine boredom is taking over so I’m gonna be writing random drabbles for fun so idk enjoy I guess! (you can read it here below the cut or on Ao3 doesn’t matter to me do what you want lol)

“Oh, kid. I’m really so so sorry.” Tony says for maybe the tenth time that night. The mechanic is sitting on the floor of Peter’s bathroom at the compound while the youngest Avenger expels his stomach contents, again. It was nearing 1 a.m. and the poor kid had been feeling a bit ill since 8. At first, he didn’t think it was anything to worry about, so Peter just opted to call it a night earlier than usual and hoped that sleep would calm the queasiness in his stomach.

Wrong. He was very wrong.

After about a half an hour of uneasy sleep, the boy was pulled from his slumber as his stomach flipped uncomfortably. Knowing what was to come, Peter shakily left his bed, seated himself on his bathroom floor, and waited for the inevitable. The inevitable happened less than a minute later. After his first bout of puking Peter still felt uneasy, so instead of making the trek back to his nice warm bed he laid himself down on a plush bath mat and let himself doze and wait for the next round of retching.

“Mini-Boss, I’ve detected that your vitals are irregular and you seem to be suffering from a food induced illness. Would you like me to inform Mr. Stark?” FRIDAY’s voice came softly from above him. Of course it was food poisoning, and on the night that Peter picked the take-out too.

“I-Is anyone else sick?” Peter asks the AI, his voice raspy. He thinks back to dinner with Tony, Pepper and Rhodey. He doesn’t remember any of them eating the same meal as him but still, he had to make sure everyone else was alright.

“Negative, Peter. The rest of the towers inhabitant’s vitals are regular and within safe levels. Once again, would you like me to inform Mr. Stark?”

Peter sniffs, thinking on it. “Is he asleep, Fri?”

“No, he and Mrs. Stark are in the living area watching a film.”

With a sigh, Peter okays FRIDAY contacting Mr. Stark for him. He feels bad that he’s interrupting Tony’s time with his wife, but he knows that he is in no shape to take care of himself. Not when he could barely life his head off the toilet seat to puke.

It’s not long before Peter hears the tell-tale sound of Tony nearly sprinting down the hall to Peter’s room. It’s a sound he’s fairly used to at this point.

“Petey? Bud, Fri says you’re not feeling too- oh my lord.” Tony stops, eyes wide when he finds Peter on the floor of the bathroom. Face ashen and eyes dull. Tony was ready to call for an ambulance when FRIDAY interjected.

“Sir, I believe Mr. Parker is experiencing symptoms of food poisoning, most likely from the gyro he ingested at dinner tonight.”

Tony coos sympathetically as he lowers himself to sit beside the boy on the bathroom floor. “Did you throw up, bubba?” The man’s hand automatically going to Peter’s hair, knowing it was an action that instantly calmed the boy. With a relieved sigh, the hair petting obviously already working, Peter nodded slightly. Tony nodded as well, taking note of the heat radiating off of the kid. “You think you’re gonna throw up again?”

“Dunno,” Peter mumbles. “‘m achey, ’n cold, tummy still feels gross.” On another given day, Peter would have been mortified to have said “tummy” in front of literally anyone, but now he just feels too awful to care.

“Okay, bug. You just rest, I’m gonna go get some stuff to help you out, alright?” Peter nods again and closes his eyes as Tony stands from his spot.

He quickly heads to the kitchen where he finds Pepper again. She’s obviously concerned, but more or less used to Peter being the cause of Tony hastily having to leave to run to the boy’s rescue. “Everything okay?” She inquires.

Tony opens with fridge with a sigh. “I mean, could be worse. It’s food poisoning, but the kid just seems downright miserable.” He grabs ginger ale and a water bottle before making his way to the pantry for saltine crackers.

“Oh no, poor thing.” Pepper says, biting her thumb nail as she thinks back to dinner.

“Don’t worry,” Tony assures her. “Fri said it was from his gyro, and we all had the salmon salad so…” He trails off, looking at the items he’s gathered but knowing he’s missing something.

“Heating pad is in our bathroom under the sink.” Pepper reminds him, knowing exactly what her husband is thinking. Tony in return smirks back at her, always amazed at just how much she knew. With a quick thank you and a kiss on the cheek, Tony grabs all of his supplies and brings them back to his kid. He drops the crackers, soda, water, and the heating pad off in the bathroom before going back into Peter’s bedroom and taking a blanket and pillow from his bed.

“Okay Peter Pan, let’s get you settled in. This is gonna be a long night.” Tony says, softly so to not aggravate the headache the kid probably has.

Peter groans in response, and Tony just shushes him lightly as he starts to maneuver the boy. Peter is almost completely pliant at this point, so Tony careful raises the spiderling’s head, much like you would an infants, and slips the pillow beneath it. He then plugs the heating pad into the wall and places it over Peter’s stomach, before lightly throwing the blanket over his curled up form. He debated tucking the blanket around the kid, but when the next round of puking comes along, Peter probably won’t have the energy to unravel himself from that. “How we doing now, bud?”

With his new setup on the bathroom floor, Peter feels much more comfortable, and it’s apparent in his eyes which are now relaxed rather than tensed. The boy hums. “S’okay, s’like a fort in the bathroom.” He slurs already feeling himself drift off again.

Tony smiles at his success. He wasn’t a bad caretaker, but was was never really his strong suit. He takes Peter’s contentedness with the makeshift pallet as the highest form of praise. “Think you wanna try some ginger ale to settle that tummy?”

If Peter heard Tony’s jab at him for saying tummy, he didn’t say anything. Most likely because just the mention of sustenance had Peter back over the toilet, gagging.

“Woah okay, never mind that then.” Tony quips as he kneels back beside Peter to keep the boy’s head up right. “That’s okay, bubba. Deep breaths. Fuck I- sorry kiddo, no more food talk from now on.” The older man cant help but cringe at the boy’s retches, a particularly hard one making the boy’s eyes water. After a little bit the gagging tapers off, and Peter spits the nasty taste from his mouth. Tony lowers the kid back down to his pillow and settles him back under the blanket before standing to grab a hand towel to wet in the sink. He dabs the sweat off of the boys brow and then cleans some of the mess on the side of Peter’s mouth and chin. “Oh, Petey I’m so sorry bud. You really feel miserable, huh?”

Peter just hums in response, finding his mentors hand and moving it to rest in his hair again. Tony cant help the small laugh that escapes at the motion. “Okay buddy, hand in the hair at all times. Noted.”

“Don’t leave Tony.” Peter murmurs half way back to dreamland.

“Wouldn’t even think of it Pete.”

#irondad #spiderson #spiderman #sick peter parker #peter parker whump #my fic #drabble #irondad fic

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